The air in the Yan Clan's grand hall was thick with tension. Yan Zi hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his father's reassuring words lingering faintly in his mind. Yet, no comfort could entirely erase the heaviness in his chest. The echoes of past ridicule replayed in his thoughts, their edges sharp against his fragile sense of self.
As he entered, the sheer size of the crowd struck him. Every disciple of the Yan Clan was present, their murmurs blending into a chaotic buzz. The grand hall, with its towering pillars and intricate carvings of mythical beasts, had never seemed more imposing. Yan Zi kept his gaze low as he moved through the crowd, acutely aware of the glances cast in his direction.
At the far end of the hall sat Yan Shengtian, the clan leader. His sharp features and commanding aura made him an unmissable presence. His robes, embroidered with golden flames, shimmered faintly under the hall's soft light. Seated beside him were the two elders—Elder Guang and Elder Yan Hong.
Elder Guang, a stern man with piercing eyes and a neatly trimmed white beard, radiated power. His Spirit Awakening Realm, 5-star cultivation was evident in the faint pressure he exuded, making the air seem heavier around him. By contrast, Yan Zi's father, Elder Yan Hong, stood calmly, his half-step Spirit Awakening Realm cultivation giving him a steady yet modest presence.
Yan Zi's arrival did not go unnoticed. The whispers began almost immediately.
"Why is he even here?" one disciple muttered, not bothering to lower his voice.
"He's not even a cultivator," scoffed another. "Just an embarrassment, clinging to the Yan name."
Yan Zi's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to keep walking. The barbs weren't new—they were the same daggers he had faced for years. Let them talk, he told himself, though the sting of their words was hard to ignore.
Elder Guang raised his hand, commanding silence. His voice, deep and authoritative, echoed across the hall.
"Quiet," he said sharply, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "You have been summoned here for an important announcement. Pay attention."
The murmurs died instantly. The disciples straightened, their faces a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Even Yan Zi couldn't help but lean forward slightly, his interest piqued despite himself.
Elder Guang continued, "In three years, the Sky Clear Sect will host a grand competition. This is no ordinary contest. It is a gathering of the strongest sects and clans from across the Northern Sky Region—a stage for the best to prove their strength."
The announcement sent a ripple through the crowd.
"A grand competition?!" someone whispered excitedly.
"What's the prize? There must be something big!"
"I've heard the Sky Clear Sect hosts the toughest contests in the region. This will be no joke."
Yan Zi glanced around, his curiosity growing alongside the others'. The energy in the room shifted as the words sank in.
Yan Shengtian stood, silencing the hall once again with his mere presence. His voice carried a weight that demanded attention. "This competition is an opportunity like no other. Not only will it bring glory to our clan, but it also offers rewards that can change destinies. The top five sects and clans will gain access to the secret realms of the Northern Sky. Within these realms lie treasures, cultivation resources, and opportunities that can elevate even the most talented cultivators to unimaginable heights."
The disciples erupted into hushed conversations once more.
"Secret realms?!"
"That's incredible! They're said to have spiritual energy so dense it's almost tangible."
"This could change everything for whoever gets to go…"
Yan Shengtian raised his hand, his eyes narrowing slightly, and the hall immediately fell silent. "To ensure our clan's success, we will select five disciples with the highest cultivation to represent the Yan Clan. These disciples will receive high-grade techniques and access to our secret training grounds for one year. In those grounds, spiritual energy is five times denser than the outside world—a rare advantage to prepare for the trials ahead."
The excitement in the hall was palpable now. Yan Zi could feel the anticipation radiating from the crowd, their eyes bright with hope and ambition.
Elder Guang stepped forward, unfurling a jade scroll. His expression was unreadable as he began reading the names.
"The first disciple selected… Yan Ling."
Applause erupted, and all eyes turned to Yan Ling. She stepped forward gracefully, her emerald eyes shimmering with confidence. Her Core Formation Realm, 1-star cultivation placed her at the peak of the clan's disciples. Even among the crowd, her presence seemed to shine brighter, her every movement exuding elegance.
"The second disciple… Yan Xingtian."
Another wave of applause followed as Yan Xingtian stepped forward. The son of Yan Shengtian, his tall frame and sharp features made him an imposing figure. His Core Formation Realm, 1-star cultivation matched Yan Ling's, and his smirk as he scanned the crowd spoke of his confidence.
"The third disciple… Yan Yu," Elder Guang announced, his voice steady. "Elementary Realm, 9-star."
Yan Yu, a young man with a cocky grin, swaggered forward. He gave a mock bow to the crowd, clearly relishing the attention.
"The fourth disciple… Yan Feng. Elementary Realm, 8-star."
Yan Feng, a quiet and composed young man, stepped forward with a calm dignity. His expression betrayed no emotion, but his sharp eyes hinted at a fierce determination.
"And the fifth disciple… Yan Ru. Elementary Realm, 8-star."
Yan Ru, a petite girl with fiery red hair, practically bounced forward. Her excitement was contagious, her wide grin earning her a few chuckles from the crowd.
Elder Guang rolled up the scroll and addressed the chosen five. "You will now follow me to receive your cultivation techniques. These techniques are not just a privilege—they are a responsibility. Prepare yourselves for the challenges ahead."
The five disciples bowed deeply before following Elder Guang out of the hall, their expressions a mix of pride and determination. The rest of the crowd began to disperse, though whispers of envy and speculation lingered.
Yan Zi remained rooted in place, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. As he watched the chosen disciples leave, a familiar ache settled in his chest. Once again, he was on the outside looking in, a mere shadow in the corner of the Yan Clan's grand ambitions.
Why am I even here? he thought bitterly.
Though his father's words had given him comfort earlier, they now felt hollow. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the gap between him and the others seemed insurmountable. His heart burned with frustration and helplessness.
But beneath the pain, a faint spark flickered—a quiet resolve buried deep within.
The grand hall slowly emptied as the disciples dispersed, their voices a blend of excitement and gossip. Yan Zi remained rooted to the spot, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The words of the elders, the laughter of the disciples, and the indifferent gaze of Yan Ling replayed in his mind like an endless echo.
"Yan Zi," a familiar voice called softly, breaking him from his trance.
Turning, he saw his father, Yan Hong, standing by one of the ornate pillars. His face was calm but held a shadow of worry as he approached.
"Father," Yan Zi greeted, his voice low and heavy.
Yan Hong placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder and studied his expression for a moment. "I can see it in your eyes. Today's announcement has stirred your heart, hasn't it?"
Yan Zi hesitated, his shoulders slumping. "It's not just the announcement, Father. It's everything. The way they look at me, the way they speak about me... Even those I thought were close have turned away. I feel... powerless."
Yan Hong sighed, his gaze momentarily drifting to the hall's high ceiling, where the chandeliers flickered softly. "Powerless? Perhaps. But defeated? No. You're my son, Yan Zi, and defeat is only for those who give up entirely."
"But I can't cultivate, Father," Yan Zi said, his voice cracking slightly. "How am I supposed to prove myself? To anyone?"
Yan Hong's grip on his shoulder tightened slightly. "You may not have the ability to cultivate like others, but the heavens do not close all paths. Sometimes, what appears to be a weakness can become a hidden strength. Do not let their words bury you."
Yan Zi looked into his father's eyes, searching for reassurance. "Do you truly believe that, Father?"
"I do," Yan Hong replied firmly. "But more importantly, you must believe it. The road ahead will be long, perhaps even harder than you can imagine. But no one rises without struggle, my son. Remember this."
Yan Zi nodded slowly, though the weight in his chest didn't fully lift. "Thank you, Father," he murmured.
Yan Hong patted his shoulder one last time. "Rest tonight, Yan Zi. Tomorrow is a new day." With that, he turned and left the hall, leaving his son alone in the lingering silence.
---
That evening, Yan Zi sat on the stone steps outside his room, gazing up at the vast, starry sky. The moon hung high, its silver light casting a gentle glow over the courtyard. The stars shimmered like scattered diamonds against the deep black canvas of the heavens. A soft breeze carried the faint rustle of leaves, offering a quiet solace.
He sighed, his breath visible in the cool night air. "The heavens do not close all paths, huh?" he whispered to himself. His gaze fixed on a single, particularly bright star, standing out against the others.
In that moment, the enormity of the universe reminded him of how small his struggles seemed in comparison. But it also stirred something within him—a quiet determination that, despite its fragility, refused to be extinguished.
His thoughts drifted to the competition, to the secret realms, and to the treasures that could change one's fate. "If there's even a sliver of a chance," he muttered, "I'll find it."
The stars above seemed to twinkle in response, as if silently acknowledging his resolve. And so, under the celestial canopy, Yan Zi's heart found a flicker of hope amidst the despair.