Wenhao wiped the blood from his nose, smearing a thick red streak across it.
"Now you look exactly like the joker you are," Ziyang said, voice calm, almost bored.
Wenhao scanned the circle of onlookers. Wide eyes, hushed whispers, heads turning away to avoid being seen watching. The fury in his chest boiled over, but he said nothing. His fists clenched, but he held them at his sides.
Ziyang strolled back to Liangyu, who was still frozen.
"That was both deeply satisfying and profoundly stupid," Liangyu muttered.
Ziyang gave a one-eyed wink. "Chill."
Liangyu coughed, straightened his robe, and cleared his throat. "Thank you."
Ziyang cupped his ear. "Huh? What was that?"
"I said thank you!" Liangyu snapped, louder this time.
A deep bell rang through the air, low, sonorous, and final. Conversation stopped. Everyone turned.
At the far end of the courtyard stood a man draped in black, long coat rustling in the breeze. His beard was thick and precise, his posture rooted and unshakable. Even with his youthful face, his presence pressed on the crowd like stone.
Liangyu's jaw slackened. "MasterYan Juechen..."
Ziyang tilted his head.
[Attention: S-Rank master detected.]
"The hell? You're so random you know that? Are you here to guide me or just drop random exposition in my head?" he whispered.
[Patience is advised for guidance instructions.]
Ziyang rolled his eyes. "Of course."
Yan Juechen's voice rang across the courtyard. Clear, clipped, and deliberate. "Welcome to the Annual Selection Exams of Tianlan Academy. You stand at the threshold of one of the most sacred institutions in the world. Few will pass. Fewer will endure."
Liangyu stood tall, hands behind his back, expression proud.
Ziyang leaned toward him. "That beard's really working for him."
"Shut up," Liangyu hissed.
"For your first task," Juechen continued, "you will each receive a piece of paper and a pen."
Volunteers in gray robes moved through the crowd, placing a slip of paper and an ink pen into each student's hands. The paper was coarse and thick, fibers visible under the light.
"You are to write one word," Juechen said. "Your purpose for being here. Not your ambitions. Not your dreams. Not your future which hasn't yet been realised. Your purpose."
The students lowered their heads. Brushes scratched softly against parchment. Some faces tightened in concentration. Others wrote without hesitation.
Ziyang tapped his pen against the page, then leaned sideways, eyes drifting toward Liangyu's sheet.
"You're really going to cheat on this?" Liangyu whispered.
"What? I'm curious," Ziyang replied.
"'Order,'" Liangyu said. "I want to use my intellect to bring structure to this world. Not the unfair hierarchy the world is now living under. But fair and true order, instead of discriminatory chaos."
Ziyang nodded. "Respect."
"What did you write?" Liangyu asked.
Before Ziyang could answer, Master Juechen raised his arm. A gust of spiritual energy swept through the courtyard. Dozens of papers lifted into the air like leaves caught in a sudden storm, swirling into a spiral around him.
He extended his hand. The papers halted mid-air, hovering in a circle. His eyes moved from one to the next, scanning and reading.
Many papers read Knowledge. Others said Strength. Some wrote Refinement.
But among them, a single word caught his attention. He stopped. The paper hovered in front of his gaze.
He then extended his hand and plucked the paper from the air. The rest drifted down in slow spirals, settling across the courtyard like feathers.
He read the word in silence, then spoke. "Ego. Who among you wrote this?"
A wave of whispers moved through the students. Eyes darted around, searching for the culprit.
Liangyu glanced sideways. Somehow, he already knew.
Ziyang raised his hand with no hesitation. "That'd be me," he said, stepping forward.
The students instinctively parted to make way. Mei Lian turned toward the voice, her gaze lingering.
Juechen studied Ziyang. "Your name."
"Ling Ziyang."
"Very well. Ziyang, would you care to elaborate on your... purpose?"
Ziyang tilted his head. "Is elaboration really necessary? You asked for one word. If that word truly defines someone's purpose, then shouldn't it speak for itself?"
Juechen's eyes narrowed. "True enough. But ego, child, is no foundation for purpose. It's fleeting. Inflated self-worth. A shadow that flickers and vanishes. It doesn't carry any weight."
"It's heavy enough to grab your attention. And who says it's fleeting?" Ziyang replied. "If that's what this academy's understanding of ego is, then I'd say it's very narrow minded and your definition is the thing that's shallow. Isn't it ego that pushes minds to compete? That drives us to sharpen our skills? To build, to rise, to surpass?"
"What you're describing is noble pride."
"And you believe ego can't be noble?"
"Obviously not. It is base. It is immoral."
Ziyang smirked. "Morality doesn't dictate effectiveness. Does a man live again just because murder is immoral? Immorality doesn't strip away power. And ego is power."
"You cling to youth's bravado. Power without discipline leads only to collapse."
"Maybe. But power doesn't come from silence and humility alone. It's ego that tells you you're better than yesterday. That you must be better than others. Ego builds empires. Why must everyone have only a 'noble' reason to do what they're doing? Or a tragic past? Or a happy one which they're choosing to protect? Why shouldn't ego be enough of a purpose?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. This was no common student. To speak like this, here, to him.
Juechen's voice dropped an octave. "You confuse arrogance with conviction. You're all talk."
"Then let my actions follow," Ziyang said. "Doubt me. I'll prove every word."
"You're deluded," Juechen replied. "Ego may spark ambition, but it burns out the soul. You will find only ruin at the end of its path."
"Then I'll walk that path with eyes wide open," Ziyang said. "Ego isn't temporary, Master. It lasts. Whether you approve or not, it stays."
Juechen paused, weighing something in his mind. Then he raised an arm and pointed toward the main gate. "Leave. Reflect. Return only when you have found a true purpose. One worthy of Tianlan."
Ziyang blinked. "Really? That's your verdict?"
Juechen said nothing more.
Ziyang turned, shrugging. "Alright then. I'm sure you're patient. I'll prove you wrong soon enough, old man."
He walked back toward the crowd. Mei Lian watched him with a faint trace of disapproval, but said nothing.
Liangyu met him halfway, expression unreadable.
"Don't worry," Ziyang said lightly. "I'll be waiting right outside. Won't be long."
Liangyu didn't respond.
With that, Ziyang stepped past the academy gates. The towering entrance closed behind him.
Juechen turned to the remaining students. "Selections will now begin. Then your written examinations shall commence."
Outside, Ziyang walked a short distance until he found a flat stone under the shade of a crooked tree. He sat with a thud, crossed his arms, and exhaled sharply.
"Pfft. 'Master exiles rebellious student. Student waits outside to show integrity. Master is impressed by said integrity. Student is welcomed back.' Seen it a million times."
He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky, the academy walls rising behind him like a fortress.
"That's exactly what'll happen… right?"