CHAPTER 3: THE ROAD TO FATE
The farewell to Mistvale was as bittersweet as it was inevitable.
Meixiu smiled gently as she waved to the villagers, the warmth of the morning sun catching in her silken twilight robes. She gave each person a soft goodbye or kind word—her presence like an anchor in the whirlpool of uncertain emotions swirling around the small village. Mr. Bunbun was nestled securely in her arms, its worn blue fabric a strange comfort in her hold.
She leaned down to whisper conspiratorially to one little girl, "Take care of the smoke dog. If he starts breathing rainbows again, just feed him two turnips and tell him to calm down, okay?"
The girl nodded solemnly. Meixiu winked.
Lin Feng's ink-black eyes were sharp, scanning the villagers one last time. His body was taut with readiness, his protective instincts always on edge. His mother's gentle farewell was punctuated with soft gestures, while his own was defined by silence and vigilance. He lingered with a frown on his lips, mind already preoccupied with the unknowns ahead.
As they stepped into the path beyond the village, their guide—a lean, sharp-eyed disciple from the Celestial Sword Pavilion—bowed politely. His name was Yun Chen, and his role was clear: to escort them through the mountains and into the trial grounds. His eyes briefly flickered to Meixiu before darting away, and Lin Feng noticed.
"Please, follow me," Yun Chen said, leading them into the dense woods, where the trees whispered with ancient energies. A crisp wind rattled through the branches, smelling of pine and something far older. "The path is treacherous, but it's the quickest way."
"Treacherous paths and vague warnings," Meixiu murmured with a grin, glancing sideways at Lin Feng. "It's like one of those RPG side quests, A-Li."
He didn't respond. Just kept walking, shoulders stiff.
"I'll take that as excitement," she added, humming softly as Mr. Bunbun bobbed in her arms.
---
The deeper they traveled into the wilderness, the louder the silence became.
The familiar softness of Mistvale vanished behind them, replaced by jagged cliffs and thickets of brush pulsing faintly with residual qi. Even the birds kept their distance here. Strange vines curled from blackened tree trunks, and ghostlight moths blinked like fading stars above the canopy.
Lin Feng felt it in his bones—the land ahead was testing them already.
At one point, they crossed a crystal-clear river, the water cold enough to sting their feet. Meixiu dipped her toes in, giggling. "It's like iced tea for your toes."
Yun Chen blinked at her. "...That's not how most describe it."
She smiled warmly. "That's why most people are boring."
Lin Feng walked behind them, silent—but the corners of his mouth tugged, just faintly.
---
That evening, twilight swept in like a slow tide, painting the skies a bruised indigo. They stopped to make camp in a stone hollow carved naturally into the cliffs.
Yun Chen busied himself building a fire, while Lin Feng remained apart, seated with his blade across his knees. Sparks danced in his eyes as he sharpened the edge—not out of need, but ritual. Focus. Preparation.
Meixiu snuggled into a blanket beside the fire, Mr. Bunbun tucked beneath her chin. "If this sect stuff doesn't work out," she mused, "we could always open a noodle shop. You guard the door. I charm customers. Bunbun handles security."
Lin Feng snorted. "I don't think he blinks."
"Exactly. Intimidating."
---
Later, Yun Chen approached him under the flickering shadows of the firelight.
"This time's trial… it isn't ordinary," he said quietly. "Many from prestigious clans are participating. The competition will be brutal."
Lin Feng nodded, his jaw tightening. "I understand."
Behind them, Meixiu leaned back and called over with mock innocence, "Did you tell him about the secret trials too? The ones where they make you write poetry while upside down?"
Yun Chen blinked. "...No."
Lin Feng muttered, "Ignore her."
"Can't. She's louder than the wind," Yun Chen sighed.
---
Morning came too soon.
As the sun crested the mountain peaks, the world below seemed to shrink into shadow. The path narrowed, forcing them single file along stone steps carved with ancient, eroded symbols. Lin Feng could feel them buzzing beneath his soles—residual qi from the generations that had walked here before.
The wind was sharper now, slicing between the cliffs with a whistle like breath held too long.
They weren't alone.
Dozens of other cultivators trickled in from various trails—some proud and dressed in silk, others cloaked and worn from travel. Some looked wary. Others... hungry.
---
The trial grounds appeared as the mist parted—revealing a walled valley etched into the mountain itself.
Jade-green gates loomed at its edge, inlaid with ancient formations and guardian runes that pulsed faintly beneath the surface. Within, stone courtyards gleamed under the cold light of early morning. Polished platforms and quiet gardens stretched out in symmetrical beauty—but the stillness felt unnatural.
Like a beast holding its breath.
Meixiu stepped past the gates with a cheerful hum, drawing nearly every gaze in the clearing.
Silence spread through the crowd.
"Who is she?" came a murmur.
"She doesn't even have a weapon…"
"That rabbit—is it enchanted?"
Lin Feng instinctively moved to stand closer beside her, his black eyes cold, his posture warning.
Meixiu didn't seem to notice the stares. She smiled, adjusted Mr. Bunbun in her arms, and whispered, "Don't be nervous, sweetie. They're just scared because you're prettier than them."
Lin Feng's brow twitched.
Mr. Bunbun, nestled in her arms, stirred faintly. The button eyes glinted like polished onyx, catching the light.
A few younger disciples recoiled.
"That rabbit's eyes… they gleam like a spirit beast's!"
Meixiu gently hugged the plush tighter and leaned closer to Lin Feng. "You think I should get him a little sword? Then he can enter the trials too."
"You're the only one here insane enough to think that," Lin Feng replied dryly.
"I'll take that as encouragement."
---
The trial grounds filled with cultivators—rogue swordsmen with heavy blades, heirs with proud gazes, and silent prodigies cloaked in mystery. Among them, the three most notable presences stood apart.
The princess from the Vermilion Phoenix Clan wore robes that shimmered with heat and pride. Her hair was a waterfall of ember-gold, and her eyes smoldered with challenge. She glided, not walked, across the field, casting a sly glance at Lin Feng.
Meixiu squinted at her, then whispered, "She looks like a firebird that joined a fashion show."
The heiress of the Black Tortoise Clan stood silent at the back, swathed in deep jade robes. Her eyes gleamed with dangerous calm, her every breath slow, calculated. There was no warmth to her. Only the stillness before venom strikes.
The silent swordsman of the Rustless Blade Clan carried a blade on his back without a sheath. His steps were quiet as snowfall. His posture perfect. His expression unreadable.
"They look like a love triangle waiting to happen," Meixiu whispered.
"A what?" Lin Feng asked, deadpan.
"Never mind, baby. Mommy reads different genres than you."
---
The administrator stepped forward—a tall elder with cloud-white brows and robes woven with starlight patterns.
He raised one hand.
The entire field fell quiet.
"Step forth," he intoned, "those who would grasp a sword and shape fate. Begin."
The trial had begun.
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