“They refused?” Bai Ning asked, frustration sharpening her voice. It was one thing to be rejected by one of the teams holding a wheel-stamped tile, but quite another to be refused by the team they had actually approached. After all, they couldn’t fight them for the tiles they needed, or rather, they could fight, but they couldn’t win the tiles even if they won the match.

  The second round had started out promising for their team. After the spectacle Fu Zhan had caused, most teams were hesitant to step onto the stage. Bai Ning, after exchanging a quick look with Yue Shuangyi, Li Kang, and Chen Zhuhe, had taken advantage. They had challenged one of the teams that held the tiles they needed, and in that moment, intimidated and unprepared, the other team had agreed.

  The fight itself had been fairly anticlimactic. Four cultivators against four others should have made for an exciting match, but Yue Shuangyi had frozen half their opponents with her opening move, and by the time Bai Ning had exchanged a single blow and felled her opponent, the rest of the battle had already ended. The ease of it had been almost surreal. They had collected their tiles, eight of the wheel-stamped ones, and left the stage.

  Unfortunately, the last remaining team with wheel tiles had wised up. They refused their challenge and instead tried to force them out by leveraging other teams. But they overestimated themselves and ended up losing their tiles to a team with the fan symbol.

  It was this team that Li Kang had just approached, hoping to trade for the tiles they needed.

  Chen Zhuhe scrubbed a hand down his face, a scowl twisting his features. “Bastards. They know they’ve got us over a barrel, and they’re milking it. They’ll string us along until we’re desperate, then walk away. We need to force their hand somehow.”

  “But how?” Yue Shuangyi asked, brow furrowed. “We can’t challenge them directly. If we win, they’re eliminated, and the tiles we need vanish with them. And we can’t risk them losing to someone else for the same reason. The only option I see is to win the tiles they need from another fan-marked team and trade those.”

  Li Kang looked unconvinced. “Most of the initial matches are done; what’s left is haggling over tiles. Teams are still fighting, especially the ones who can’t refuse, but that’s less about winning what they need and more about favors or pressure. And now that the tiles are spread out, most teams can’t afford to eliminate anyone else, so very few are challenging each other at all. Those who are being challenged keep getting backed up by other teams, whether as favors, trades, concessions, or who knows what.”

  He shook his head. “Odds are the tiles the fan team wants are in another team’s hands, and getting them will be a chore we can’t afford. The first day is almost over. We only have two more before we get disqualified.”

  Bai Ning wanted to grimace. The situation had collapsed into the exact mess she’d feared, only faster and worse than even she had expected. Her team had eight of the twelve tiles they needed, and the remaining four were now held by a team they couldn’t fight without destroying their chances. That left only one option: trade. But the refusal just now proved that the other team was only stringing them along, using them as convenient muscle with no intention of handing over the tiles.

  So what could they do? Yue Shuangyi’s suggestion had the most merit, but Li Kang wasn’t wrong either. They needed a clear path to those tiles; some leverage, some pressure, something to force the fan team’s hand.

  She tipped her head back, staring at the darkening sky as possibilities churned uselessly through her mind. There has to be a way. Surely the tournament wouldn’t allow the second round to bottleneck this badly. There had to be an opening somewhere.

  But what?

  Before Bai Ning could chase the thought further, a pulse of qi rippled through the arena like a shockwave. Conversations died mid-sentence; even the most heated arguments froze in place. Above the great white stone arena, Shen Taixu hovered in midair, robes whispering against the wind, the setting sun casting him in molten red and gold.

  He smiled down at the gathered participants, faintly amused. Once silence had settled, he clapped his hands and said, “That concludes the first day of the tournament’s second round. From this moment on, all fighting is suspended until tomorrow, when we will reconvene here. Until then, please remember a few rules.”

  “One: all teams will receive assigned quarters in a restricted section of the cloud ring, reserved specifically for second-round competitors. No cultivator may sleep anywhere except their designated residence. From sundown – meaning now – until midnight, your time is your own, and you may come and go freely. After midnight, all teams must be within their residences and remain there until dawn, at which point you are to return here immediately for the continuation of the second round.”

  A wave of mutters rose, but Shen Taixu spoke over them easily, his voice carrying across the entire arena without effort.

  “Two: no fighting will be tolerated between participants during this period. All fights for tiles must take place in the arena, under my supervision. Should anyone feel tempted to ‘test’ these instructions…” His lips curved, almost lazily amused. “Disqualification will be the least of your problems. That said, teams may retain their tiles, and trading is still permitted. If you can obtain tiles without bringing undue harm to another team, feel free. But do not test this boundary. If anyone attempts coercion or bullying, remember-” his smile sharpened just a touch “-the eyes of the grand cultivators are upon you.”

  A tense hush swept over the arena.

  “Lastly,” Shen Taixu continued, “every team must have their tiles when they return tomorrow, and again the following day. Lose them at any time, and you will earn nothing but swift disqualification.” He clapped once. “That is all. You are dismissed.”

  With that, he suited words to action and shot upward into the sky, disappearing into the cloud ring in a single streak of light.

  For a heartbeat, Bai Ning and the others simply stared after him, stunned by the abruptness of it all. Around them, teams began to disperse in uneven clusters, some still glancing upward as if half-expecting Shen Taixu to descend again and declare that the matches would continue after all. The air felt charged, as though the pulse of qi he’d released continued to reverberate faintly against the stone.

  “What now?” Chen Zhuhe muttered, inching closer as if the sudden stillness had made the arena too empty.

  Bai Ning exhaled and closed her eyes briefly. “Let’s head up to the cloud ring. We need to check these assigned residences, and more importantly, I want to speak with my master. He’s a Core Formation cultivator, so his perspective will be useful. Those rules Shen Taixu gave… it wasn’t just me who thought they sounded strange, right? There’s something about this round we’re not seeing.”

  Yue Shuangyi nodded at once. “A wise decision. I would take you to my teacher, but she rarely meets strangers. Since you have a master in the same realm, we should use that advantage.”

  Li Kang’s expression brightened, then slipped into a kind of anxious awe. “Wow. I mean, there are Core Formation elders in the Seven Light Enclosure, but I almost never interact with them. I didn’t know you were a personal disciple of one.”

  Bai Ning shrugged modestly. “It’s not that big a deal. Come on, before the crowd wakes up and we have to swim through a river of people heading up.”

  She slapped her storage pouch, retrieving her Paper Crane. The palm-sized origami paper bird unfolded beside her in the air, expanding into a mount-sized construct. Bai Ning hopped onto its back. Her companions followed suit: Yue Shuangyi tossed a carved ice phoenix into the air, which expanded into a crystalline mount beneath her feet, while Li Kang and Chen Zhuhe summoned their respective magic treasures: a flying sword and a bead that floated beneath his soles. In a burst of qi light, the four of them shot into the sky toward the cloud ring that encircled Daisai Island.

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  As they ascended, Bai Ning glanced down. From above, the island looked completely natural, nothing like the back of the massive crab it truly was. Rocky ridges and mossy shrubs broke up the terrain, dotted with stubborn little bushes that clung to the harsher slopes. At the island’s center lay the colossal pale-white arena, the main stadium of the tournament, where the second round was underway and where the final bouts would be held.

  Encircling that white arena, at least half a hundred li out, was a ring of enormous green blocks. This was a spatial realm – the World of a Million Cubes – which had served as the staging ground for the tournament’s first round. Bai Ning had fought through that realm and passed its trials, and after two days of rest and congratulations from her parents, her master, and various seniors, she had stepped into the first day of the second round. Compared to the first, this round was proving far more troublesome.

  As they climbed higher, the cultivators below thinned into scattered motes of motion. Their shouts, clashes, and arguments softened into a distant murmur. Only the wind remained; cool on her cheeks, carrying the last warmth of the setting sun. Bai Ning hadn’t realized how stifling the crowd had been until they’d risen above it. The wind on her face, the golden sheen stretching across the sea… it felt like taking a clean breath after hours underwater.

  For the first time since the second round began, Bai Ning’s lungs felt full. The anxieties, whether it be tiles, rivalries, or hidden rules, loosened their tight grip on her chest. Suspended above the world, with sunlight pouring across the waves and the vast shadow of the cloud ring drawing near, everything below seemed, if only for a moment, wonderfully distant.

  The cloud ring loomed larger as they approached; an immense belt of white and gold mist encircling the island like a celestial halo. From afar it looked soft, almost insubstantial, but as they neared it, faint structures became visible within the layers of vapor. Buildings, from floating pavilions and suspended walkways to clusters of crystalline platforms, sat embedded in the cloud as though carved from the mist itself. Soft light pulsed within them, waxing and waning like slow breaths.

  The four of them passed through the wide opening at the heart of the cloud ring, gliding over the tiered seating carved into the innermost curve. The stands, vast and gleaming in the soft mist, were mostly empty; Bai Ning guessed they would only truly be filled when the third round brought out spectators in full force, eager for the clashes between cultivators that would follow.

  Her Paper Crane dipped slightly as Bai Ning adjusted their course toward the dwelling her master had chosen. It lay directly beside Fan Mei’s residence – something she wasn’t sure whether to appreciate or dislike – and its layout mirrored Fan Mei’s almost exactly. As with her previous visits, the cloud ring was bustling. Cultivators of every rank and sect wandered the luminous, mist-wreathed avenues, haggling over rare treasures, sharing steaming meals, or drifting lazily from one dazzling stall to the next. Entire districts were devoted to shops, entertainment pavilions, betting houses, and luxurious mansions. It felt like someone’s dream given form; a place so grand it bordered on the unreal.

  They spent nearly fifteen minutes gliding above the busy streets before leaving the populous quarters behind and entering the reserved sections for Core Formation cultivators. Here, space opened wide between the estates: towers of glimmering jade, halls of polished cloudstone, gardens filled with cloud blossoms and enchanted trees, all sheltered beneath protective formations that shimmered like veils of gold and silver. Bai Ning had become somewhat accustomed to the extravagant displays during her previous visits, but her companions, especially the men, gawked openly, their jaws slack with awe.

  Chen Zhuhe’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets when they passed a sprawling mansion built entirely from Thousand-Year Shadowwood, a material so rare it was normally reserved for the finest magical instruments. Bai Ning couldn’t suppress a faint smile; even she had to admit the display was absurdly extravagant.

  At last, they approached Mo Jian’s residence. Compared to the neighboring estates, it was modest, yet still managed to be quietly magnificent; a single-story pavilion shaped like a crescent moon, carved from pale, luminescent stone that shone softly in the ambient light. A dome of protective qi glowed above it, translucent yet potent, with a neat opening at its front. So, they were expected. Master Mo Jian had clearly anticipated their arrival.

  Bai Ning swooped through the opening atop her Paper Crane, landing lightly before the front door. The crane folded in on itself, shrinking back to palm size before slipping into her storage pouch. The others followed more cautiously, mindful of stepping into a Core Formation cultivator’s sanctuary, even with permission, but soon enough they, too, touched down behind her and stowed their magic tools.

  Li Kang and Chen Zhuhe craned their necks, eyes widening as they took in the pavilion and its surrounding garden. Cloud blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze, their petals catching and scattering light like drifting shards of dawn. Yue Shuangyi, ever composed, offered only a measured nod of appreciation.

  Bai Ning returned the gesture with a brief, confident smile before stepping forward and knocking sharply on the wooden door. The sound rang out like a clear, resonant bell.

  “Master, I’m coming in. My teammates are with me as well.” Without hesitation, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her companions trailing behind with careful, respectful steps.

  From deeper within the pavilion, Mo Jian’s calm voice drifted toward them. “I am in the sitting room. Come in, Bai Ning, and introduce your friends to me.”

  They passed through a short entryway and into a wide, open room that overlooked a garden overflowing with cloud blossoms, their petals drifting lazily on a warm breeze. The interior was lavish without being gaudy. A thick rug stretched wall to wall, soft enough that their feet sank slightly with each step. Four braziers burned meditation incense in the corners, curling fragrant spirals of smoke toward the ceiling. Exquisite mosaics adorned the walls, depicting different scenes: mist-shrouded mountains, a bamboo forest under moonlight, the endless sweep of a star-flecked sky.

  At the center of the room stood a meticulously arranged tea table. A polished teapot, delicate cups and saucers, and a bowl of crystallized spirit fruits glimmered softly under the ambient light. Eight seats had been set around it, two on each side. Mo Jian occupied one of them, raising a cup to his lips with practiced ease. Steam curled around him as he regarded the newcomers with a faintly lifted eyebrow.

  Bai Ning wasted no time. She strode across the room and dropped into the seat beside him with a contented sigh. Reaching for the nearest teacup, she downed it in a single gulp. Mo Jian winced at her actions, but she ignored it with aplomb, waving a distracted hand toward her companions still hovering near the entrance.

  “These are my teammates for the second round: Yue Shuangyi, Li Kang, and Chen Zhuhe.”

  A soft shuffle followed as the three cultivators stepped forward. Yue Shuangyi bowed politely, serene as ever. Li Kang and Chen Zhuhe fumbled after her, clearly unsure how to behave in the presence of a Core Formation cultivator. “Many thanks for allowing us in, Senior,” Li Kang managed, his voice edged with awkward respect.

  Mo Jian inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Welcome. Please, sit. There is no need to stand on ceremony.”

  More hesitant shuffling. Only when Yue Shuangyi rose smoothly from her bow and claimed the seat adjacent to Bai Ning did the boys hurry to follow suit, murmuring more thanks as they took their places. Mo Jian’s lips twitched, faintly amused.

  “Master, you didn’t come to watch us in the second round?” Bai Ning asked, leaning forward to pluck a crystallized fruit and popping it into her mouth with relish.

  Mo Jian set his teacup down. “There was little point. Every cultivator in the ring was warned not to interfere with participants, under penalty of their disciple’s disqualification. A few tried to watch regardless, but the chaos below made it impossible to observe anything meaningful. Most left within the first hour.” He paused, giving her a knowing glance. “I suspected you might come looking for me, so I kept a lookout regardless.”

  Bai Ning’s eyebrows lifted, and the rest of her team traded uneasy glances. It made sense, especially if every cultivator had been explicitly warned off, but it also meant the very help they’d hoped for was unavailable.

  Still, it clarified one thing.

  “So I was right,” Bai Ning said slowly. “There’s something else happening in this round beyond the obvious. First the strange rules, then warnings against assistance. Why do it this way? Clearly to limit our options. But then why allow a break at all? Why give us time to talk to anyone? They could have kept the second round going continuously instead of stretching it over three days. Something’s going on.”

  Yue Shuangyi nodded, releasing a tense breath. “Agreed. The question is… what?” She hesitated, then turned respectfully toward Mo Jian. “Senior, forgive my impertinence, but is there truly nothing you can tell us?”

  Mo Jian hummed thoughtfully. “I know the structure of the second round. Those details were shared with us after the participants descended to the island. I cannot speak of it directly, but I will say this: if there is a hidden component at play, you already possess all the clues you need to uncover it.”

  He fixed Bai Ning with a pointed look. “Especially you, disciple, given all those fictional jade slips you waste so much time on.”

  Bai Ning bristled on instinct. “They’re not a waste of time! Stories about underdog cultivators rising through the heavens are far more inspiring than the palace dramas you read, and-”

  She stopped mid-retort as a spark ignited behind her eyes.

  “Oh,” she murmured, hand rising to her mouth. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her lips. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. It’s so obvious.”

  Chen Zhuhe exchanged a glance with Li Kang, eyebrows raised, before turning back to her. “What is it? What did you realize?”

  Bai Ning looked up, her confidence in their chances suddenly surging. “How do you feel about… stealing the tiles we need?”