Hao looked around the mountain, enjoying the many views to his heart’s content. It nearly lightened his heart.

  The peak was quiet. Most of the noise was down the path to the little arena, but even that was just a merry bumble of people. Even that was peaceful, calm. Almost the exact opposite of the rush of the Lower-Peaks.

  Warm and cold swirled in the wind. The breeze helped Hao shed his worries, though they didn’t truly leave his heart. They simply rested for a moment.

  A moment where the world paused, in which he could sit and rest his eyes.

  Hao felt it was the right thing to do. He crossed his legs and sat down just off the path that led in and out of the pagoda, closing his eyes and taking a moment, he slipped into meditation.

  His focus broke a few times. Every time it did, he opened his eyes to a glance from strangers he had never met. None of them were off. Some even held admiration in their expressions and head nods.

  When he finally faded into that emptiness. He could see outside himself, his shadow dancing with the unfiltered light of the sun spinning around him. His hair, recently rarely undisguised, floated up. Gold and Black like a mural of day and night alternating with shifts in the wind between short bursts of brilliance and an abysmal dark.

  The shadow looked like it could swim out of him. An eel trying to escape a cave, wanting to latch onto anything nearby, its tail leaving an ice-cold trail that made everyone who got close to it shiver. But it couldn’t escape. Suns, small lights gathered around him, flickering, chased the eel, keeping the eel suppressed. They were in balance, constantly teetering back and forth.

  Hao heard footsteps nearby. There was nothing around him, that’s how he knew the World with his eyes closed wasn’t real, or everything. He popped his eyes open, his concentration breaking.

  “Sorry, I should have stayed back,” Que muttered, his hand pulling down his chin as he took a step back, looking up at the pagoda’s door, then flicking back to Hao.

  “Senior Que,” Hao stood.

  He had to shake as he stood, pushing his blood back through his body. It had been a long while since he had felt so relaxed.

  It must have been the herbs burning in that censor. “It’s fine. I was waiting for you.”

  Once the sensation of needles left his fingertips and toes, Hao met Que’s eyes before giving a bow.

  Que stopped Hao again. His hand came out to block Hao from lowering himself. It seemed he was not one for formalities. “No, it was reckless of me to approach while you were in such a state.” He shook his head, slightly bowed it, bringing his eyes back over to the display that was Zu Wairen.

  “She was the one who brought you the Sect? It’s true, isn’t it? Do you know her well?”

  Hao stepped onto the path beside Que. “Yes, she brought me here. But I’ve never spoken to her, I didn’t know her name until you said it, Senior Brother.”

  Hao hid all his thoughts of Zu Wairen rather well. She was the first Immortal thing he had seen, and he was insulted rather badly by asking what she was, like she was a strange creature when he saw her standing in the sky. Afterwards, he had to embarrass himself to dispel any resentment.

  The result was a punishment the day he arrived. Too much had happened on the mountain shelf before he ever joined the sect.

  Hao continued as silence started to linger. “The only thing I know is that she is stronger now than before, the way she is floating while controlling the wind with just a wave of her hand.”

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  Seeing it was something, saying it was almost discouraging. He was still walking up mountains with popping stitches because of that magic gate that blocked those with talent, and those without. It bothered Hao less than it should. But it was hard to watch Zu Wairen without some sort of emotion welling up, admiration or envy. She was only Hao’s age after all. A few years older, maybe, seventeen or eighteen summers, but she was the center of this painting of the peak, pulled from Heaven’s own gallery.

  Que looked back as his foot went steadily forward. “Cultivating a resilient heart is as important as cultivating strength and power.”

  Hao followed behind. He understood a piece of what Que said. If his heart were to falter on his path, no matter how much strength he forced into his flesh, his body would not move as his mind would no longer allow it. But there was always more advice from people like Que.

  “Thank you, Senior Brother, it’s hard to come by advice, and coming here, I’ve gotten a lot,” Hao said, not letting Que stop him from giving a gesture of his thanks, a bow cost nothing, though, he didn’t go as low as he should have.

  “No need, they aren’t my words,” Que said. His tracks stopped for a brief moment as he looked back at Hao with a smirk and glowing eyes. “Junior Brother, why don’t you thank Young Lady Zu?” He whispered. His hushed tone made it obvious he wanted more out of the interaction than for Hao to appear thankful.

  “Your unique hair and tattered robes. Washed by rain and dried by the sun, with the scent of First Brother’s incense floating around you. Every eye you catch will think you have interesting stories to tell.” Que was more animated so far than Hao had ever seen him. “Here, take these in case of an emergency. To help heal wounds.”

  Light flashed subtly from the ring on Que’s pinky as a small pill bottle landed in Hao’s hand. A so-called panacea, he imagined.

  Hao would rather take them apart and study them than use them, and he wasn’t going to thank Que for them either. It was clear he had other motives.

  Hao relented. He should thank Zu Wairen either way, even if it wasn’t his choice. He was brought to this mountain, where his life and the world he knew changed. All the pain he endured wasn’t on her. More importantly, he had to make sure she didn’t remember him. Thanking her didn’t matter compared to that.

  Hao stepped forward, Que at his side. Just as Que said, eyes jumped to Hao, glances turned to stares, as if a spectacle were to happen.

  Zu Wairen came floating down. The leaf fell below her, spinning precisely before thudding to the ground.

  “Stay back! How many times do I have to say!” Ciyue, Daoist Silver Flash or whatever the Elders called him, shouted.

  A blast of wind hit Hao in the chest. Que raised a hand to block most of it, but what came through nearly made Hao fall backwards. Flower petals and grass lifted into the air.

  Que turned, his brow furrowed down. “Senior Ciyue, I think you’ve forgotten your place, or simply lost your courtesy. This peak still belongs to my master, even if you sleep under HIS roof!”

  “You!” Ciyue pulled down on his braided bronze beard, lowering his bald head. It glittered like a torch. “Discourteous? Is this how you treat guests on this rotting mountain?”

  Hao’s impression of the man was becoming clearer. His famed name spread because of the speed of his flying technique, but the way he acted, Hao couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of his temper. The Red-Flash fit better with how quickly everything above his shoulders turned red like peeled melon.

  Que faced away from Hao, but he could imagine the face he was making. “Guests? The person you just attacked is a guest on this peak, one I call Junior Brother. You and your Soaring Sect can do as you please with the rest of the Southern tip. But don’t think you can wash away Brotherhood for your convenience. Don’t attack another disciple.”

  Ciyue parted his lips from his smirk, but another voice stilled the air before he could.

  No one was paying attention to Zu Wairen to see her land. “Master, it’s okay. I need a break anyway, I haven’t stopped since morning.” Her voice, like a bell, pulled everyone’s attention.

  She was still in the center of the pit, her forehead slick with sweat.

  “Ha, a break! You say you need one, but do you deserve one?” Ciyue turned his back, groaning as the Zu Wairen disciple bowed to his back.

  The already pale woman turned paler. Her lips lost their shade as she put her hands on her knees before she straightened out. It took only a second for her to catch her breath. Everyone playing the role of spectator turned away, pretending to be blind for a moment, except for a few women and men with rather creepy stares.

  Instead, those sets of eyes went to Hao. Que reached back without looking from Ciyue and pushed Hao forward towards the arena.

  Even those staring obsessively at Zu looked at Hao then. As he stepped his first into the arena, it was like he tripped and fell into a pit of snakes, all rattling their tails as they watched his every move. Not a single stare was like her master's.

  An empty, pale, ice-cold, emotionless stare that screamed of nothing but disdain from Ciyue. With each step Hao took, his eyes sank deeper.