The courtyard was silent.
Bamboo groves surrounded a simple table. Spiritual lanterns floated lazily in the air.Four cups. A teapot releasing thin streams of steam.
Sai sat down first. He poured the tea with slow, precise movements and took a sip.
Only then did he speak.
"You passed the first test."
Wang Tao did not relax.Yan Li held her breath.Wei Lian felt his stomach tighten.
"I know you are exhausted—mentally and physically," Sai continued, taking another sip."That is why we will conduct the second test now."
The three exchanged looks.
Now?
"It is simple."The boy placed his cup down."Answer one question."
Silence.
Wei Lian leaned forward, hesitant.
"Immortal—"
"Master Sai," he corrected without looking up.
"M-Master Sai… just one question?"
"Yes. A different one for each of you. Each reflects what you faced on the mountain."
Sai looked at them one by one.
"I initially intended to do this in private. But since you wish to become my disciples, you will answer openly."
The nervousness shifted.
It was no longer fear of failure, but fear of being seen.
Wang Tao maintained his posture. Years of discipline allowed no other response, yet something inside him creaked under pressure.
Yan Li couldn't stop thinking: I need to paint this—before the moment slips away.
Wei Lian froze completely.
Sai set his cup down.
"We will begin."
The silence stretched.
None of them knew whether to speak first or wait.
Then they understood—
Preparing an answer was useless.
After the mountain, one truth was clear: this boy did not listen to words.He listened to intent.
Any lie, any embellishment, would be seen through instantly.
And that made everything worse.
Because the truth hurts.
---
Sai turned his gaze to Wang Tao.
"Wang Tao. Fate binds its threads around those who do not understand the Dao. What we call choice is often nothing more than obedience to a script already written. We are puppets dancing in the palms of the Heavens."
He paused briefly.
"If that is true… why insist?"
Wang Tao felt his heart tighten.
Images surged back—his parents, the Invisible Hand, the poison, the chain.
Always the damned chain.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Fate. The Invisible Hand. Puppets.If everything is decided, what is the point of struggling?
The thought appeared.
And with it, pain—sharp, crushing, in chest and soul alike.
He clenched his hands.
Giving up was tempting.
But he held on.
The pain. The despair. The urge to surrender. The tears threatening to fall—not from drama, but from the terror of meaninglessness.
Because giving up meant saying that none of it mattered.
Finally, he spoke—slowly.
"If I give up," he said, "I would still be following fate."
He opened his eyes.
"If I accept everything in silence, I am still playing the role written by the Heavens. So if I will be led regardless…"
He took a deep breath.
"…then I choose to insist. Because maybe—just maybe—if I keep walking, one day I can grasp the reins of that fate with my own hands."
He lifted his chin.
"Even if destiny is written, I still choose how I obey it."
A brief silence followed.
Sai did not react.No approval. No rejection.
---
He simply turned to Yan Li.
"Yan Li. If beauty exists only in the mind, then the world is empty."
He tilted his head slightly.
"If it exists only in things, then the heart is useless.So tell me—where does beauty truly arise?"
Yan Li clenched her fist.
Damn it. Any answer betrays something I believe in.
She closed her eyes.
Ripped canvases. Broken brushes. The endless frustration of never capturing what she saw.
But also him—the immortal boy, the perfection of the Heavens, the image burned into her soul.
The beauty of things warms me… but why do my works feel so hollow? Is the flaw in me, or in them?
"When I paint," she began softly, "it is never enough."
She opened her eyes.
"Even when everyone says it is beautiful, I don't feel that I captured what I saw."
She inhaled deeply.
"Maybe beauty isn't only in things… and not only in me.Maybe it's born in the moment when the two meet."
Her voice trembled at the end—but she did not retreat.
Again, no reaction.
Sai simply waited.
The silence was almost tangible.
---
Then he turned to Wei Lian.
"Wei Lian. Who are you when no one is watching?"
Wei Lian's stomach twisted.
The masks. The roles. The expectations.
His mouth opened… closed… opened again.
Pure panic.
Because the question wasn't what do you do.
It was who are you.
And he didn't know.
"I…" His voice came out weak."I've spent so long being what others expected that I don't know who I am when no one is around."
He swallowed.
"But on the mountain…"
His voice gained a thin thread of strength.
"When everything fell away, I just wanted to keep climbing. Even without knowing who I was, I wanted to move forward."
He raised his head.
The tea had gone cold.
The wind passed through the courtyard, rustling the bamboo.
No answers were given.No judgments spoken.
Only the weight of their own words.
Then Sai smiled.
Brief. Almost imperceptible.
"With that," he said,"the three of you have passed the test."