Aziel followed Yi Chen down a winding corridor, its walls illuminated only by the soft glow of lanterns. Outside, the sky had darkened, enveloping the courtyards in a heavy cloak of night.
As they walked, Aziel noticed the silhouettes of other green-robed disciples hurrying past, all seemingly heading to the same destination: dinner.
They soon emerged into an open-air quadrangle, where a light breeze ruffled Aziel's freshly red hair. Rows of intricately carved wooden pillars supported a spacious overhanging roof, creating a sheltered dining pavilion at the heart of the courtyard. Warm lamplight spilled outward, mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of steamed rice and spiced broth.
"Looks like they haven't started serving yet," Yi Chen remarked with relief. "If you're late, you end up with scraps."
Aziel watched as disciples filed into the pavilion, some chatting softly while others rubbed fresh bruises. He recognized a few from the earlier sparring session—the injured and the onlookers who had stood by the sidelines. A subtle tension seemed to bind them all, as if each carried a private concern about the next day's training drills.
Inside the pavilion, two orderly lines had formed before simple metal trays piled with rice, vegetables, and sliced meat. At the end of each line sat wooden bowls brimming with steaming soup. Spotting the shorter queue, Yi Chen led Aziel over, and they joined a group of weary-looking disciples.
Aziel surveyed the bustling scene, determined to take in every detail. Everyone wore the same style of robe, but his pale green one marked them as outer disciples. Judging by the deferential glances aimed at anyone dressed differently, he assumed the darker robes belonged to inner disciples or perhaps even higher-ranking individuals.
"Those disciples without green robes who were watching the sparring earlier—were they inner disciples?" Aziel asked, turning to Yi Chen.
"Yeah," Yi Chen replied. "They weren't sparring; I think they just wanted to see who might join their ranks after the upcoming matches or maybe impress the Elders."
"...Oh."
"Anyway," Yi Chen continued, "the inner disciples have their ranking matches soon to decide who becomes a core disciple. I'm sure they're all on edge."
"What's the benefit of being an inner or core disciple?" Aziel inquired.
"Plenty," Yi Chen answered. "You get access to superior elixirs, better training, nicer food, and bigger rooms—not to mention prime cultivation spots higher up the mountain. As for being a core disciple... well, those perks are nearly endless. It's what most disciples strive for."
Aziel glanced toward a long staircase winding up the mountain toward the inner disciples' halls. Beyond that, he assumed, lay the core disciples' quarters. It reminded him of his home, where the inner districts enjoyed privileges far beyond those of the poorer areas. With a quiet sigh, he turned his focus back to the lines and noticed something at the front.
A tall, unsmiling woman in gray robes was distributing wooden tokens to each disciple as they reached her. Aziel saw that everyone first presented a small, disc-like medallion before receiving their food token.
"Uh... you do have your medallion, right?" Yi Chen whispered, leaning in.
Aziel raised an eyebrow. "Medallion?"
"Your sect medallion," Yi Chen clarified, his eyes widening. "That's how you claim your meal token. Don't tell me Elder Xun didn't give you one...?"
Heart pounding, Aziel patted down the folds of his robe. To his relief, his fingers brushed against something small and round in an inner pocket. He pulled out a wooden disc etched with the same swirling motif he'd seen on the sect buildings.
"That's the one," Yi Chen murmured, exhaling. "Good."
Aziel nodded curtly and stepped forward when it was his turn. He handed the medallion to the tall woman, who studied it briefly before placing a carved wooden token into his palm. Following the example of the other disciples, he slid the token onto a peg beside the food trays and collected a portion of rice, vegetables, and sliced meat.
Moments later, he carried his meal to one of the long wooden tables, with Yi Chen following closely behind, limping from his bruised ribs.
"Whew," Yi Chen sighed once they settled on the benches. "I was almost certain they'd give you trouble about that medallion."
Aziel nodded absently, scarcely hearing him. His gaze roamed the pavilion, lingering on the older disciples, most of whom were busily devouring their meals. He could hardly wait to dig in himself; he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a decent meal. Eagerly, he searched for a spoon, but disappointment washed over him when he found only chopsticks.
"What... is this?" he muttered.
"Have you never seen chopsticks before?" Yi Chen asked, already using his own. "You hold them like this to pick up your food."
Aziel tried to imitate him, but each time he nearly succeeded in pinching a piece of meat, it slipped away and plopped back onto the tray. Frustrated, he gave up and stabbed at his meal with a single chopstick, wielding it like a makeshift fork. His unorthodox method drew a few amused glances, and he could hear people snickering at his expense. He paid them no mind.
After just one bite, tears sprang to his eyes.
"D-Delicious..." he mumbled, his once-dull eyes suddenly shining.
Wasting no more words, he turned to the steaming soup and ate with single-minded focus, stabbing morsels of food and gulping them down in quick succession.
Halfway through his meal, Aziel became aware of openly hostile glares from across the table. Unlike the earlier amused stares, these looked charged with genuine resentment.
He refused to look away, meeting those hostile eyes directly as he continued to eat. One by one, most disciples averted their gazes, likely sensing that anyone brought in personally by an Elder might be someone to avoid provoking—at least until they knew more about him.
One disciple, however, did not yield. A stocky boy in green robes—around Aziel's own apparent age—snorted in contempt when Aziel met his eye.
Yi Chen noticed and nudged Aziel's elbow. "That's Hui Feng," he whispered. "He was sparring earlier when you spoke to the Elders. I think he was trying to show off his techniques, but you ended up stealing their attention…"
"Right," Aziel muttered, sounding uninterested in Hui Feng's hostility.
Where Aziel came from, such conflicts often turned deadly. Here, it felt more like empty posturing. Shaking off the tension, he resumed his meal.