Chapter 2

The tea was fragrant, swirling in delicate porcelain cups, yet it did little to mask the air of quiet scheming between the two men seated in the lavish hall.

Master Ren Hu of the Azure Sky Sect—a man draped in deep indigo robes embroidered with silver clouds—sipped slowly, eyes half-lidded as he listened. His features were sharp, refined, but there was a certain dullness to them, a weariness that came from years of performing the same mundane duties for the sect.

Across from him, Lord Zhao Qiyan, the Count of Qinghe Village, leaned forward with a practiced smile, his rich silk robes slightly creased from the stiff posture he held. He was a man of high station in a place of little importance, and that made him desperate—desperate to climb higher, desperate to seize an opportunity, desperate enough to do what many before him had done.

"I assure you, Master Ren, you will not be disappointed with our village," Lord Zhao said smoothly, reaching for the teapot to refill the immortal's cup himself, a show of humility meant to flatter. "Though remote, Qinghe has produced fine youths with great potential. Your esteemed sect would be most fortunate to take in one of our own."

Ren Hu made a vague noise of acknowledgment, stirring the tea with slow, idle movements. He had heard this all before. Every village thought itself special, every nobleman believed his offspring to be a hidden dragon. It was tiresome.

Still, he did not interrupt. This sort of groveling had its perks.

As expected, Lord Zhao's tone dropped, becoming softer, more intimate. "And, of course, I must humbly mention my own son, Zhao Lihuan—a bright, diligent boy with great promise."

Ren Hu lifted a brow, feigning interest. "Oh?"

Lord Zhao smiled, but there was a flicker of unease beneath it. He reached into his sleeve, producing a heavy silk pouch, the faint sound of coins clinking within. He placed it carefully onto the table, his fingers lingering just long enough to make his intent clear.

"A small token of gratitude, for your discerning eye," Lord Zhao murmured. "I trust that such generosity will not be forgotten."

Ren Hu said nothing for a moment, watching the count with unreadable eyes. Then, without ceremony, he reached forward and plucked the pouch from the table, weighing it in his palm before slipping it into his robes.

"It is always admirable when a father seeks the best for his son," Ren Hu said finally, his voice smooth as the tea he had just swallowed.

Lord Zhao relaxed, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

Ren Hu set his cup down, signaling the end of the discussion. "Let us begin, then. The Blood Resonance Test will determine those worthy of entry. The chosen will be escorted to the sect's outer discipleship immediately after."

Lord Zhao nodded quickly. "Of course, of course. My son will not disappoint."

Ren Hu's lips curled in something resembling a smile, but it was devoid of warmth.

Disappointment was irrelevant. The boy's place was already secured.

---

The village square had never been so lively.

A large platform had been erected in the center, covered in banners bearing the Azure Sky Sect's emblem—silver clouds on deep indigo, their signature colors. The villagers gathered eagerly, children craning their necks, merchants pausing their sales, housewives whispering excitedly about how this day would change their fates.

For most, this was the first time they had ever seen an immortal.

At the heart of the platform stood a single object: a crystal orb, flawless and smooth, resting on a carved pedestal.

The Blood Resonance Test was simple—prick a finger, let a drop of blood fall onto the crystal, and wait. If the orb remained dull, you were ordinary. If it glowed, you had the potential to cultivate.

If it shone brilliantly, you were destined for greatness.

Ren Hu stepped forward, his robes billowing slightly as he surveyed the eager faces before him. His expression remained impassive, uninterested. He had seen too many of these tests to feel any excitement.

"Step forward," he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. "We will begin."

The first boy climbed the platform, hands trembling slightly as he pricked his finger with the provided knife. A single drop of blood hit the crystal.

The orb remained dark.

A murmur swept through the crowd. The boy stepped back, shoulders slumping, and another took his place.

One by one, the hopefuls approached. Some orbs flickered faintly—barely enough to qualify for outer discipleship. Most remained dark.

And then, Zhao Lihuan stepped forward.

Lord Zhao watched from the side, fingers clenched behind his back. Ren Hu remained outwardly indifferent, but his fingers tapped against his sleeve, where the weight of the bribe still rested.

The boy pricked his finger. Blood met crystal.

The orb pulsed with soft light—not blinding, not extraordinary, but enough. Enough to qualify. Enough to be deemed 'worthy.'

A cheer erupted from Lord Zhao's side of the crowd. His wife covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tears of relief. Servants clapped. The villagers whispered among themselves.

Ren Hu nodded, as if impressed. "Zhao Lihuan," he called, his voice loud and clear. "You have passed."

Lord Zhao exhaled slowly, triumph shining in his gaze.

The test continued.

But Ren Hu had already made his decision.

And it had nothing to do with destiny.

______

The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows across the square, yet the crowd remained thick with anticipation. Parents clutched their children's hands, whispering prayers, while others stood on the tips of their toes, straining to see.

By now, the pile of failures had grown taller than the few flickering successes. Some had walked away quietly, shoulders hunched in disappointment. Others sobbed into their parents' arms. But those whose blood had caused even the faintest glow stood straighter, their entire futures rewritten in the span of a heartbeat.

Jiang Kun barely contained his excitement as he grabbed Bei Zui's wrist, dragging him toward the front. "Come on! I've been waiting for this moment my entire life!"

Bei Zui let himself be pulled forward, though his stomach twisted with unease. Not for himself—he had never thought about becoming an immortal. His mind had always been occupied with more pressing matters: his mother's bruises, his father's aching back, the hunger that never fully faded. But Kun… Kun had dreamed of this.

He had no family to return to. No land, no obligations, no future. This test was everything to him.

When they reached the platform, Kun grinned wide, rocking on his heels like a child before a feast. "Watch this," he whispered to Bei Zui, brimming with confidence.

He stepped up.

Took the blade.

Pricked his finger.

A drop of blood hit the crystal.

Nothing.

The orb remained lifeless.

The square was silent for only a breath before whispers broke out like rustling leaves in the wind. The weight of it pressed against them like a thousand unseen hands.

Kun stared at the crystal, his face frozen in shock, waiting—praying—for something to happen.

But the orb remained still.

Ren Hu made a sound, something between a sigh and a scoff. "Step down," he said, already turning away. "You've wasted enough time."

The words cut sharper than any blade. Kun stood there for a moment longer, fists clenched at his sides, before stepping back, his usual bright expression wiped away.

Bei Zui moved to him immediately. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured, placing a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's just a stupid rock. What does it know?"

Kun forced a chuckle, but it was hollow. "Guess I wasn't meant for the heavens, huh?"

"You belong wherever you decide to belong," Bei Zui said, voice quiet but firm. "One stupid test doesn't change that."

Before Kun could reply, Ren Hu cleared his throat loudly, irritation flashing across his face. "Must we drag this out? Life is full of ups and downs," he said, sweeping his gaze across the gathering, voice laced with practiced wisdom. "Those who cannot rise simply prove they were never meant to. A failure will always remain a failure. No matter how hard a worm struggles, it will never become a dragon."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, agreement bubbling up like rot.

Ren Hu's eyes flicked back to Kun and Bei Zui, his lips curling in distaste. "The heavens are already merciful. To think that even trash like you two were lucky enough not to be washed away when you were conceived… A shame."

Laughter erupted.

"He's right," someone snickered.

"These beggars don't belong here!" another sneered.

"How dare they waste Master Ren's time!"

The words pelted down like stones, bruising Kun far deeper than the failed test had. His jaw tightened, hands curling into fists.

But he didn't argue.

He didn't fight.

He only turned to Bei Zui with a small, tired smile. "You should try."

Bei Zui stiffened. "I don't—"

"It's okay," Kun interrupted gently. "The immortal's not wrong." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I was stupid to get my hopes up. But you might have a chance."

Something inside Bei Zui twisted.

Kun had always been the one who lifted others, who refused to wallow in self-pity. But now, that brightness was dimmed. Snuffed out.

Bei Zui hated it.

He hated them.

And yet, as he felt the countless eyes drilling into him—some mocking, some expectant, others indifferent—he realized there was no way out of this.

Even Lord Zhao Qiyan, the count himself, had turned his gaze on him, his lip curling in mild recognition. One of my servant's sons, his expression said. What a joke.

Ren Hu sighed, rubbing his temples. "Hurry up, boy. I don't have all day."

Bei Zui swallowed down the bitterness rising in his throat. Then, under the weight of their scorn, he stepped forward.

The world felt unbearably quiet as Bei Zui stepped forward.

He could feel every single pair of eyes on him—watching, waiting. Some bored, some expectant, but most filled with mockery. The weight of it sat heavy on his shoulders, but he ignored it, walking past the crowd like they were nothing more than ghosts.

Ren Hu sat lazily in his chair, swirling his tea as he observed him. His lips pulled into a thin line, but his gaze snagged on Bei Zui's face.

His eyes.

Gold.

For a fleeting moment, something in Ren Hu's mind stirred. That wasn't normal. But before he could think too much on it, he scoffed and waved a dismissive hand.

It was probably just an anomaly.

Nothing worth considering.

Bei Zui stopped before the testing pedestal, reaching for the small knife laid out beside the crystal orb. The metal was cold against his fingers. He didn't hesitate, didn't flinch as he pressed the blade to his fingertip, watching the blood well up.

As he lifted his hand over the orb, the whispers started.

"He won't be anything special."

"Of course not. What can you expect from the son of a prostitute and a cursed laborer?"

"His family lost their land. His father's just a dog for the count now, and his mother scrubs floors. It's pathetic."

"He should've just stayed home. Save himself the embarrassment."

The laughter followed. Quiet, but cruel.

Bei Zui didn't react. Didn't spare them a glance.

He let the blood drop.

The moment it touched the orb, a sharp crack split the air.

Then light.

A brilliant, blinding gold burst from the crystal, swallowing the entire testing platform in its glow. The orb shook violently, the energy inside twisting, expanding—before shattering into a thousand glittering shards.

The small explosion sent a rush of air through the square, whipping through the stunned silence.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

Ren Hu was frozen, his tea forgotten, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

Count Zhao's lips parted. The villagers stared, wide-eyed, as if they couldn't believe what they had just seen.

Even Jiang Kun looked like he had been struck by lightning.

Bei Zui, on the other hand, barely reacted.

He stared at the ruined pedestal, expression unreadable, before slowly shifting his gaze back to Ren Hu.

And then, with the same cold, disdainful look, he echoed the immortal's words from earlier.

"A failure will always remain a failure."

The words dropped like a stone into the silence.

Only this time, they weren't aimed at some poor village boy.

They were an insult. A mockery. A challenge.

Ren Hu's face darkened instantly, but before he could snap, Jiang Kun exploded.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Kun shot up, his hands gripping his hair like he might actually rip it out. "BEI ZUI?? BEI ZUI OF ALL PEOPLE???"

The shock wore off, and then he howled with laughter.

"YOU GUYS—YOU ALL HEARD THEM, RIGHT?! ALL THAT TALK ABOUT HIM BEING A NOBODY?? LOOK AT YOU NOW! MOUTH OPEN, LOOKING DUMB AS HELL!!"

He spun in a circle, pointing wildly at the crowd. "WHAT WAS THAT AGAIN?? TRASH?? CURSED BLOODLINE?? HA! JOKES ON YOU, BECAUSE MY BEST FRIEND IS A FUCKING PRODIGY!!"

The villagers were still too stunned to say anything. Some looked horrified. Others furious.

Jiang Kun didn't care. He grabbed Bei Zui by the shoulders, shaking him hard.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A MONSTER?! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD I PRAYED LAST NIGHT? I BEGGED THE HEAVENS FOR A CHANCE, AND YOU JUST WALK UP AND BREAK THE DAMN ORB?!"

Bei Zui blinked at him. "I didn't know."

Kun groaned, dropping his head onto Bei Zui's shoulder. "I wanna die. I actually wanna die."

Bei Zui patted his back awkwardly. "Don't."

Kun pulled back, grinning so wide it almost split his face. "Too late. My spirit has already left my body."

The crowd was still silent, still struggling to process what had just happened.

But one thing was clear.

Bei Zui wasn't just a village boy anymore.