Two days had passed.
The city had resumed its usual rhythm, as if nothing had happened. But for Hei Tian, Yun Lue, and Mu Liang, something had cracked.
They were still staying at the inn owned by Old Chen Mu's friend — a modest room that smelled of clay and dried herbs. Outside, merchants' voices drifted through the shutters, mingling with the cries of gulls and the rumble of carts.
Hei Tian sat near the window. His gaze swept over the passersby, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
Two nights had gone by, and yet the smell of blood still lingered.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Saw the arena again. The shadows. The masked boy. He didn't understand everything yet, but one thing was clear: this hadn't been just a tournament. It was a showcase. A test.
But orchestrated by whom? And for what purpose?
Behind him, Yun Lue entered, cheeks flushed, strands of hair sticking to her forehead.
— "I've been training," she said, leaning her staff against the wall. "My arm doesn't feel as heavy now."
Hei Tian nodded without a word.
She sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the palm of her hand.
— "When I hit Xiàoshī, I think I got scared. I didn't want to win… not like that. But if I hadn't done it… I would've been the one to fall."
She wasn't really expecting a response. Hei Tian understood that. She just needed to say the words, even if they still came out a little crooked.
— "You didn't fight. Why not?" she asked after a silence. "You were just watching."
Hei Tian tilted his head slightly.
— "I didn't need to fight. I needed to know."
She frowned.
— "Know what?"
He took a moment before answering.
— "Who's watching."
Yun Lue blinked.
— "You mean... the organizers?"
Hei Tian shrugged.
— "Maybe. Or the ones above them. We weren't there to win. We were there to be seen."
A soft rustling broke the silence. In a corner of the room, Mu Liang stirred at last. He was curled up on the bed, still clutching the piece of cloth. He was only eight, but for two days he had hardly spoken.
Yun Lue moved toward him gently.
— "Mu Liang? Want some water?"
He shook his head, then after a moment, whispered:
— "There was someone... in the crowd… He wasn't moving. He stared at me for a long time. I think he knew I was watching him too."
His voice was small, uncertain — like a child describing a nightmare.
Hei Tian walked over and crouched beside him.
— "When did you see him?"
— "At the end. He had a weird mask… and his eyes… very calm. Like he already knew what was going to happen."
Hei Tian didn't reply. He simply placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
Mu Liang trembled slightly.
— "He didn't scare me," he whispered. "But… I didn't like his eyes."
Yun Lue said nothing. She looked at Hei Tian with a mix of unease and silence.
They all felt it — something was unfolding around them, far bigger than they were.
---
The next morning, strange posters appeared on the city walls:
> Call to Young Talents
The gates of the sect will open in three days.
Sect of the Purple Lightning
"Those with nothing to lose are welcome."
Hei Tian read the poster without touching it.
Behind him, Yun Lue crossed her arms.
— "Strange, isn't it? Right after the tournament…"
— "It's connected," Hei Tian replied. "I'm almost sure we were being watched for this."
Mu Liang stayed behind, gripping the edge of Yun Lue's tunic. He hadn't understood everything, but he knew one thing: wherever Yun Lue and Hei Tian went, he would go too.
Hei Tian, meanwhile, kept his eyes on the poster. He read between the lines. In the tone. In the invitation to those with "nothing to lose."
He understood they might not be looking for disciples…
…but for weapons.
---
That night, he stayed awake for a long time. The city sounds had died down, and even the wind seemed afraid to blow.
On the rooftop of the inn, Hei Tian stared at the sky.
He wasn't in a hurry to enter that sect. Not without knowing what they wanted. Not without knowing where he was stepping.
But if he had to walk into the shadows to protect Yun Lue and Mu Liang…
Then he would.
For now, he would just observe.
---