The following days were filled with an unsettling calm in a city usually so full of life. The day of departure arrived.
The inn was asleep. In the room, Mu Liang was still curled up, his forehead resting on his thin arm. He had stopped trembling, but his breathing remained troubled, as if his dreams knew no rest.
Hei Tian sat on the ground, his back against the cold wall. He let his thoughts settle. A strange sensation lingered in him. Not a sharp premonition, but a slight pull, a vague discomfort—like a stone in a shoe. A nameless unease.
He could still see the sign:
> "Those who have nothing to lose are welcome."
A simple phrase, almost trivial. But here, in this dusty city weighed down by silence, it echoed strangely. Maybe it was just the atmosphere. Maybe not.
Chen Mu had joined them for one last meal, his eyes dark-rimmed but his voice still gruff.
— "If you ask me, go in with your eyes open. The Purple Lightning Sect isn't the kind you leave once you're in."
He didn't ask them to stay. He knew it would be pointless.
Mu Liang was holding Yun Lue's hand without saying a word. He had been silent all morning. But now and then, his eyes would rise to Hei Tian, as if to check whether he was still there.
They left the inn shortly after dawn.
The city's main square had changed.
Where the sign had once been pinned, there were now several. All identical. But one detail had changed: a violet seal, embossed and embedded into the very material.
A man suddenly appeared in the sky, floating effortlessly. He wore a purple robe adorned with lightning, his vivid silver hair tied back. His face was calm, almost gentle. But his eyes were disturbingly clear. Too empty.
He descended slowly, without theatrics, and landed soundlessly before the gathering crowd.
— "Three days," he said. "That's what you had. The selection begins now."
He reached toward the nearest poster. The seal glowed with a deep purple light.
— "Step forward. Take a poster. Touch the seal. If you're recognized, it will shine, and you will be taken to the sect. If not… forget about ever entering. You won't even be able to cultivate."
"The seal will test your resonance with the world's Qi. It's a spiritual pre-selection, not a final judgment."
A boy stepped forward. Fifteen, perhaps. His clothes were patched and worn. He grabbed a poster and pressed his hand against the seal.
Nothing happened.
Then he stepped back. A deep despair filled his eyes. Without a word, he turned away.
Yun Lue shivered.
— "He didn't pass?"
Hei Tian was watching. He said nothing. But something was bothering him. Not a certainty, nor a sudden vision. Just a vague unease. Something out of place.
Before him, several children passed.
A girl with braided hair triggered a faint glow. A boy with cold eyes made the light stabilize. And another one—a dark-skinned girl with sharp eyes—made the seal shine brightly.
But for every success, many more failed.
Then came Hei Tian's turn.
He stepped toward the seal and reached out. He felt a slight vibration, a strange current coursing through him.
— "That's… odd," he murmured.
The moment he finished speaking, the poster lit up.
The cultivator watching the scene was visibly surprised. He hadn't expected to find any notable talent in this remote city, let alone someone with such strong resonance with Qi. Usually, these tests only produced a dim, barely visible glow.
> "To think I'd find someone like that in a place like this…" he thought. Then he said:
— "Very well. You've been selected."
Yun Lue stepped forward, her fingers trembling. She had always been bold, courageous, sometimes even insolent. But here, in this vibrating silence, she felt small. Fragile.
She pressed her palm to the seal.
A weak light flickered. Just a soft pulse, hesitant, as if the seal itself was unsure about acknowledging her.
But it was enough.
The cultivator frowned slightly.
— "Marginal resonance. Accepted."
She nodded, lips tight, but her eyes shone with quiet pride.
Mu Liang remained in the back. He hadn't moved. His gaze shifted from Hei Tian to Yun Lue, then to the seal. He was pale. Too pale. His lips trembled, but he said nothing.
— "Mu Liang," Hei Tian called softly.
He flinched, as if waking from a dream.
— "You don't have to. You can go back to the inn, join old Chen. You have nothing to prove."
The boy lowered his eyes. Then slowly raised them, meeting Hei Tian's gaze. There was something broken in his eyes—but also… something new.
— "If I never try, I'll always be nothing."
And he stepped forward.
Each step echoed like a heavy drumbeat in Hei Tian's chest. A silent, inexplicable tension tightened.
Mu Liang touched the seal.
Silence fell. Even the wind seemed to stop.
The seal didn't light up.
But it didn't remain inert, either.
It vibrated. Deeply. A painful, prolonged vibration, as if something was trying to rise but kept failing.
Then… nothing.
No light.
The cultivator shook his head.
— "Failure."
Mu Liang said nothing. He remained there, his hand still on the seal, eyes blank. Then he took one step back. Then another. He didn't cry. He didn't scream. He stayed silent—and that silence hurt more than anything else.
Hei Tian wanted to say something. But there was nothing to say.
> This world does not forgive weakness.
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