Weeks drifted by like a slow-moving river. The once-bustling excitement after the intense clan tournament had settled into a tranquil lull. The match to decide the three chosen for the White Crane Sect referral had passed, and the dust of competition had long since settled. A faint ripple of unease lingered in the air over the mysterious disappearance of two guards, but Elder Lǐ had assured the clan he would look into it. His words had closed the matter with quiet finality, leaving the clan to move on as if nothing had happened.
And so, the days ticked by in a rhythm of anticipation and preparation. The younger generation of the Duō Clan had their eyes set on the White Crane Sect, each one brimming with dreams of ascension, adventure, and strength. For those honored with a referral, the clan elders invested time and energy in their final preparations. Special training sessions were held, and life-saving tools—talismans, elixirs, and rare artifacts—were granted. These tokens of protection were treasures of the Duō Clan, passed down only in times of importance. The elders spoke of the path ahead, imparting wisdom and warning alike.
Meanwhile, those without a referral prepared for their own journey, intending to make the trek to the White Crane Sect's gates themselves. Hope was a fierce, stubborn thing in their hearts, driving them to prove their worth and gain admission into the sect, referral or not.
Duō Yī continued his own preparations, training with his clone, whom he had taken to calling Yī 1, honing his cultivation with the same relentless discipline that had defined his past life. Though progress was slow, he broke through to the fourth stage of the Qi Gathering Realm. The days seemed uneventful, but he was laying a foundation of strength, his quiet resolve unshaken.
And then, the day arrived. The morning was draped in a heavy mist, the air thick with the anticipation of something grand. The entire clan gathered in the courtyard—the elders in their robes of authority, the influential figures of the family standing in quiet respect, and the younger generation watching with a mix of awe and excitement. This was a day of importance, for the envoy from the White Crane Sect was arriving to escort the three chosen candidates.
A hush fell over the courtyard as a sudden, piercing cry echoed from above. Heads turned skyward, eyes widening as a massive silhouette appeared, blocking out the morning sun. With a graceful sweep of its wings, a gigantic crane descended, landing with a resounding thud that trembled through the courtyard. Its snowy feathers gleamed in the sunlight, each movement of its powerful wings stirring a slight breeze.
Standing on the crane's back was a man of ethereal beauty and presence. His aura was calm yet commanding, an elegance that spoke of the White Crane Sect's prestige. He wore emerald-green robes that shimmered like woven jade, each fold and seam crafted from the finest materials that could be attained. His long, blue hair fell in waves over his shoulders, a striking contrast to his piercing green eyes, which held a touch of cool indifference as they swept over the gathered crowd.
In perfect unison, the members of the Duō Clan bowed low, voices rising together in a greeting of reverence: "We greet Immortal Kǒng Zhāo!"
Kǒng Zhāo's gaze moved briefly over the crowd, his expression impassive, and then settled on the assembled elders. Without preamble, he spoke, his tone carrying a refined haughtiness that suggested he had no intention of lingering.
"Where are the three selected candidates?" His voice was as smooth as silk but held a subtle edge of impatience. He clearly had no time to waste.
Elder Chén stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "The three chosen are here, Immortal Kǒng Zhāo." He gestured, and the three candidates, dressed in fresh robes and exuding nervous excitement, stepped forward, each bowing deeply.
Kǒng Zhāo glanced at them with faint disinterest, his expression betraying none of the reverence that the clan held for the sect. To him, they were merely another set of disciples in a long line of hopefuls. "Good," he said, dismissively. "Let's not waste any more time."
With that, he extended his hand, beckoning them onto the crane. The three candidates obeyed without hesitation, each taking their place on the back of the majestic creature, eyes alight with awe and anticipation. Kǒng Zhāo gave a brief nod, signaling the crane to rise, and with a powerful beat of its wings, they lifted off, soaring into the sky. The crowd watched in silence as the enormous bird disappeared into the clouds, taking with it the hopes and pride of the Duō Clan.
As the sky cleared and the spectacle faded, the members of the clan dispersed, returning to their daily routines. Yet, the departure left a lingering sense of purpose within the younger generation. Over the following days, one by one, they, too, began to leave, setting out on their own paths toward the White Crane Sect.
---
Several days later, Duō Yī found himself summoned to his mother's quarters. Her smile was warm but carried a hint of mystery as she regarded him.
"An envoy will come for you, too, Yī'er," she said, her tone as gentle as a lullaby. "In a few days' time."
Duō Yī blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "An envoy, mother? I... I didn't think—" He hesitated, unsure how she could have arranged such a thing.
She merely smiled, her eyes holding secrets she was not yet willing to share. "The envoy will meet you at the abandoned courtyard on the day he arrives. Don't be late." Her voice was calm but left no room for questioning.
Duō Yī tried to pry further, but his mother offered no further details, only a reassuring pat on his shoulder and a gentle smile that told him she had done everything she could for him.
---
On the appointed day, Duō Yī arrived at the abandoned courtyard, his heart a mixture of anticipation and quiet determination. He leaned against the trunk of an old tree, letting its shade cover him as he waited, his thoughts drifting to the path that lay ahead.
A distant cry reached his ears—a familiar sound, yet different. Looking up, he spotted a crane descending from the sky. Unlike the massive bird that had carried the three candidates, this crane was smaller, sleek, and built for speed, with feathers as white as the first snowfall. It touched down with a graceful ease, barely stirring the air around it.
Duō Yī approached, noting the absence of any rider or envoy. It was merely the crane, a silent messenger sent for him alone. This smaller bird was for him, a solitary journey to the White Crane Sect—a message in itself, as if to tell him that his path would be walked alone.
With a calm breath, Duō Yī mounted the crane. The creature ruffled its feathers, adjusting to his weight, and with a powerful beat of its wings, it lifted into the sky. As they soared westward, the landscape unfurled beneath them in vast stretches of mountains, rivers, and valleys, each mile carrying him farther from the life he had known and closer to the destiny that awaited him.
As the air grew cooler and the peaks of distant mountains came into view, Duō Yī felt a surge of anticipation. This journey was not merely a step toward the White Crane Sect; it was the first stride into a world that stretched beyond the limits of his past life and present trials. The winds of fate were shifting, and he was ready to follow wherever they led.