Tian Hao was pacing his chambers, still reeling from the strange new reality of his situation, when a servant arrived at the door. With a deep bow, the servant said, "Young Master, Sect Leader Tian Shou has summoned you."
Tian Hao nodded, hiding his apprehension behind a forced mask of calm confidence. His jaw tightened subtly, and he took a deep breath, willing himself to stay composed despite the churn of anxiety beneath the surface. "Can I really keep this up?" he thought, the doubt gnawing at him. "They've known this version of me for so long—how long until they see through this act?" The fear lingered, but he knew he couldn't afford to slip, not in front of these people.
As he followed the servant through the corridors of the compound, his mind raced. Tian Shou—his new body's father—was the Sect Leader, and from what he gathered, a man with significant expectations for his son. Tian Hao recalled a memory of the original Tian Hao standing before his father, the older man's stern gaze burning into him as he lectured about duty and honor. In that moment, his mind flashed back to his own old family—his father, whose rage filled every corner of their small apartment, and his mother, whose eyes always looked away, powerless to intervene.
They entered a grand hall, the air heavy with the faint scent of sandalwood incense. The soft sound of wind chimes echoed gently, adding a serene undertone to the otherwise imposing atmosphere of the hall. The hall was spacious, adorned with elegant tapestries in deep blues and silvers, each depicting grand scenes of sect history and celestial battles. The carved columns were intricate, featuring lotus blossoms and coiling dragons, their details so fine it seemed as though they might spring to life.
At the far end of the room sat Tian Shou, his stern face lined with fatigue. His eyes, sharp and piercing, held an unmistakable weight of authority, but there was also weariness that spoke of countless responsibilities. His posture, upright and unwavering, reminded Tian Hao of an ancient pine tree—weathered by countless storms but still standing tall, unyielding against the winds of time. Despite the visible burden on his shoulders, there was a sense of enduring strength, a determination that had held the sect together for decades.
Beside him stood Elder Hua, her eyes narrowing at Tian Hao's arrival. Elder Hua moved with the precision of a blade, every gesture calculated and deliberate, her posture embodying the unwavering discipline of a martial sect elder. She was a severe-looking woman, with sharp, angular features that seemed to be permanently set in an expression of disapproval. Her eyes were dark and unyielding, a piercing gaze that could strip away any pretense, her long hair tightly pulled back, emphasizing her high cheekbones and thin lips and she wore robes of a deep blue, adorned with intricate silver embroidery. Everything about her—from her rigid posture to the precision of her movements—exuded a strict, no-nonsense authority that demanded respect, seeming to embody the discipline and rigidity that the Skyward Lotus Sect's traditions valued most.
Elder Han, his expression softer, almost encouraging, stood to the side. He had a calm presence, with gentle eyes that contrasted starkly with the stern demeanor of Elder Hua. Standing like a placid lake, his tranquility reflecting an inner strength and wisdom cultivated over years. His face, lined but warm, bore a kind smile that suggested patience and understanding, while his robes were less ornate, featuring muted greens with modest embroidery.
Finally, Liang Chen, Elder Hua's disciple, stood to one side, arms crossed and gaze steady. Liang Chen was known as the star of the sect—a prodigy whose cultivation prowess was unmatched among his peers. He was tall and lean, with sharp features that conveyed a natural authority. His eyes were intense, reflecting a quiet confidence and determination, and his stance exuded the poise of someone used to being in control.
"Tian Hao," Tian Shou began, his voice deep and weary, like the low rumble of thunder in the mountains. "Sit." Tian Hao obeyed, lowering himself to the cushion placed in front of his father.
Tian Hao reminded himself, "Nod when appropriate, bow your head in apparent shame, and speak only when spoken to."
He felt his neck stiffen as he forced himself to bow, the weight of their expectations pressing heavily on him. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes or let out a frustrated sigh, reminding himself that he had to play the part—just for now. He knew he had to do his best to act like the repentant son, to avoid drawing ire from his father and the elders.
Tian Shou's gaze softened, but his expression remained troubled.
"Your conduct has brought much dishonor upon our sect," Tian Shou said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Your actions speak ill of you. The sect members mock you behind your back. My son, you have been given so much, yet you squander it on indulgence and reckless pursuits." His eyes bore into Tian Hao's, and for a moment, Tian Hao felt a pang of something—guilt perhaps.
Elder Hua, who had been silent until now, chose this moment to speak. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her voice was sharp, each word carrying a weight of disdain that seemed to cut through the air. "Sect Leader, I fear you waste your breath. A rotten tree cannot be carved (Xiǔ mù bù kě diāo yě.; 朽木不可雕也). This boy," she gestured dismissively at Tian Hao, "has embarrassed the Skyward Lotus Sect for too long. He is a disgrace, lacking discipline, lacking purpose. Look at him, he hasn't even progressed past early Body Refining." Her eyes narrowed, and Tian Hao could feel her disdain like a physical force.
She continued to speak. "Do you remember the incident during the Winter Solstice Ceremony, Tian Hao?" she asked, her tone dripping with mockery. "When you, in your drunken state, attempted to challenge Liang Chen here to a duel? You, who has barely even stepped foot upon the path of cultivation, dared to publicly challenge someone in Foundation Establishment. You could not even stand straight, yet you insisted on embarrassing yourself—and by extension, all of us." Elder Hua sniffed the air, her expression twisting into one of disgust. "I can already smell the wine on you, and it's still early in the day. Such actions do not belong in the proud Skyward Lotus Sect."
Tian Hao winced inwardly, desperately sifting through the fragmented memories he had of this body. A flush of heat rose to his face, his fingers tensing at his sides as he fought to maintain his composure under the scrutinizing eyes of the elders. It felt as though their piercing gazes could unravel him, each second an agonizing effort to keep his outward demeanor calm. He glanced at Liang Chen, who looked back with thinly veiled contempt.
Tian Hao forced a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "I... may have made some poor choices, Elder Hua."
Before Elder Hua could continue her tirade, Elder Han stepped forward, his expression one of calm neutrality. "Elder Hua, while I understand your frustrations, I believe it is too early to dismiss Tian Hao entirely," he said. He looked at Tian Hao with a piercing gaze, as if trying to see beyond the failures. "He still has time to change, to grow. The potential may be there, Elder Hua, even the finest jade must be polished (Yù bù zhuó, bù chéng qì.; 玉不琢,不成器). Tian Hao has potential, but he needs the right guidance. Perhaps a renewed focus on cultivation would do him good."
Tian Hao seized the opportunity, bowing his head respectfully. The constant pressure of maintaining the façade was exhausting—the weight of the expectations, the judgmental gazes—it was almost overwhelming. Every second was a battle to keep his shoulders from sagging, his jaw from clenching, and his true thoughts from surfacing. But he also knew he had to play along.
"I... appreciate your words, Elder Han. I truly want to do better," he said, hoping his sincerity didn't sound too forced.
Liang Chen, who had remained silent, finally spoke up, his tone polite but cold. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint tightening around his jaw suggested his displeasure. Tian Hao couldn't help but mock him internally, "Look at him, the perfect disciple, all righteous and flawless. I wonder if he ever tires of being so self-important." The urge to roll his eyes was almost overwhelming, but he stopped himself just in time.
There was a calculating look in Liang Chen's gaze, as if weighing Tian Hao and finding him lacking. "Sect Leader, Elders, I hope you understand that leniency may be perceived as weakness by others," he said, his eyes not leaving Tian Hao. "If Tian Hao truly wishes to redeem himself, it will take more than words."
Tian Hao looked back at Liang Chen, trying to read his expression. He could see it—the contempt, the disbelief that someone like Tian Hao could ever improve.
He forced a smile, deciding that playing along was his best course of action for now. "I understand, Senior Brother Liang Chen. Actions speak louder than words, after all," he said, his voice light, almost self-mocking.
Tian Shou leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Tian Hao, do you even understand the position we're in? The Skyward Lotus Sect doesn't have the luxury of making enemies." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "We aren't a great sect. Resources are tight, and our influence isn't what it used to be. You flaunting your behavior around—it makes us vulnerable. You think your recklessness is insignificant, but remember, a single spark can set a prairie ablaze (Xīngxīng zhī huǒ, kěyǐ liáo yuán; 星星之火,可以燎原). You put not only yourself, but the entire Skyward Lotus Sect at risk with your behavior." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "There's a festival coming up. All the neighboring sects will be there, and we need this to go well. Any more trouble from you could put us all at risk."
"We need you to behave, Tian Hao," Tian Shou's voice dropped, his tone almost pleading. "If you can't act with dignity, at least try not to embarrass us at the festival. It's important—too important for your usual recklessness."
Tian Hao nodded, trying to look suitably chastised. His muscles ached from holding his posture so rigidly, a dull throb spreading across his back and shoulders. The strain of keeping up this facade was exhausting.
"I understand, Father. I will do my best."
Tian Shou took a deep breath, his stern eyes meeting Tian Hao's once more. "You are dismissed, Tian Hao. Reflect deeply on what we have discussed today." He lifted his hand in a formal gesture, a signal that the meeting was over.
Elder Hua added sharply, "Do not squander this opportunity, Tian Hao. We will be watching closely." Liang Chen merely nodded, his gaze cold as Tian Hao stood, bowing low before retreating.
Elder Han looked at Tian Hao, his expression still calm. "Tian Hao," he began, his voice carrying a gentle firmness, "I expect to see you at tomorrow's cultivation lecture in the training courtyard. It is time you began taking your responsibilities seriously." He paused, then added, "You may find that discipline can be a path to growth, not just restriction."
With that, Tian Hao stood, bowed, and turned to make his way towards the doors of the grand hall. He kept his back straight, his steps measured, feeling the weight of every eye on him. The tension in his shoulders only grew heavier as he moved, his muscles tight with the effort of projecting calm control. He resisted the urge to glance back, knowing Elder Hua's cold gaze and Liang Chen's critical eyes were fixed on him.
As Tian Hao left the grand hall, he drew in a slow breath, feeling the pressure clench around his chest. Each step felt like shaking off invisible chains, the weight of expectations dragging at his heels. The stern faces and judgmental eyes of the elders faded behind him. Regardless of what they thought, he was going to seize every opportunity this new life had to offer.