As Xuan Jing took deliberate bites of his Tanghulu, his nose crinkled slightly as he sniffed the treat. His fingers lingered on the delicate syrup coating the hawthorn, meticulously ensuring not a single trace of Zhi Rui's taint remained. To him, even the slightest impurity from Zhi Rui's hands was intolerable. Xuan Jing's cool indifference was interrupted only by a flicker of satisfaction as he found no residue from his brief purification.
Meanwhile, from the seating area, Xuan Rong watched his son with a raised brow. The sight of Xuan Jing eating sweets was as rare as it was unsettling. It was a habit he hadn't indulged in since the tragic loss of his mother, Yě Shèng. "Strange," Xuan Rong muttered, frowning in curiosity as he observed this unusual display.
Beside him, Feng Hao's father, Feng Zhihao, sat with an air of casual elegance, his waist-length platinum blonde hair loose around his shoulders. His stormy gray eyes sparkled in amusement as he watched his son chomping down on sesame brittle with an enthusiasm that betrayed his teenage maturity. Feng Zhihao shook his head, a fond smirk tugging at his lips. "Still a child at heart," he mused, arms folded as he watched his son.
Beside Feng Zhihao, Jiǎn Míngyuè, Jiăn Lí's father, observed the scene with a gentle sigh. His short-cropped maroon hair framed his face, and his amber eyes held a warm glint as he watched Jiăn Lí savoring the Osmanthus syrup like a prized treasure. "These boys," he murmured, shaking his head, but there was an unmistakable pride in his gaze.
When the announcer called for Xuan Jing, Feng Hao, and Jiăn Lí, they glanced at each other and made their way to the glass doors of the Hall of Resonance—a grand hall known for its portal-like entry that shimmered with an ethereal light. As they approached, Headmaster Qiān Xiǎo stood at the entrance, her gaze proud and her posture imposing, as if welcoming them to a rite of passage. Her eyes gleamed with silent approval as they passed, her smirk betraying the satisfaction she felt for these students.
The glass doors recognized each of their elements in turn as they entered, the system responding with holographic screens tailored to each of their unique elemental auras.
Feng Hao was the first. A pale blue screen with wisps of white glowed before him, bearing several items that radiated the spirit of the wind and sky. After a moment of contemplation, he chose the Gale Strider Boots. As he accepted them, the boots shimmered in his hands, emanating a breeze that seemed to ripple through the room. He slipped them on, feeling an immediate surge of lightness and agility, his movements becoming as swift and silent as a passing breeze.
Jiăn Lí was next, his screen glowing with a golden warmth that matched the hues of dawn. His gaze flitted over the options before settling on the Flame of Tranquility Pendant. With reverent hands, he reached out to claim it, the pendant's eternal flame flickering softly as he touched it. Draped around his neck, it emanated a soothing warmth that calmed his spirit and cast a gentle light in his path, illuminating any shadows nearby. He'd thought about Feng Hao and Xuan Jing before picking this.
Finally, Xuan Jing, still savoring the last bite of his Tanghulu, turned to face his screen, which displayed items in deep, shadowy hues tinged with faint, spectral glows. Without a moment's hesitation, his gaze settled on the Soul Lantern. As he extended his hand, the lantern materialized, its spirit flame flickering to life, casting a muted but eerie light. Holding it, he felt an innate connection to the shadows around him, as if the lantern itself understood his nature. It whispered secrets of hidden paths, promising guidance in realms few dared to tread.
Each boy's artifact resonated with his aura, a tangible extension of their essence. As they regrouped, there was an unspoken sense of pride and camaraderie. They were equipped not only with their powers but with symbols that marked their place within the clans.
Back outside, the crowd erupted into flashes and murmurs as they emerged. For a moment, Xuan Jing hung back, watching his father take the spotlight. He leaned against a column with Wei Lin by his side, crossing his legs and smirking faintly as the crowd shifted their attention to him. And when he finally stepped into the light, every gaze gravitated towards him, as if his mere presence had commanded them to.
The reporters pushed forward, their cameras capturing the poised, aloof expression on Xuan Jing's face as he stood beside Feng Hao and Jiăn Lí.