## The First Light of Day, and More to Come at Noon!

—

Eleven souls sought the path to immortality, yet none found favor. Save for Wang Lin, and a maiden who also touched the threshold of two meters, all were deemed unworthy.

At day’s end, the youths were dismissed, escorted down the mountain by the disciples of Heng Yue Sect. It was the Zhang-named youth who had brought them who now guided Wang Lin homeward, accompanied by Wang Zhuo and Wang Hao.

“Greetings, Brother Zhuo,” the youth said with a smile, bowing slightly. “Congratulations on becoming a disciple of Dao Xu Shishu. Your future is boundless.”

Wang Zhuo puffed out his chest, an insufferable smirk upon his face. “Naturally! My Shifu has already proclaimed that once I return home and settle worldly affairs, he shall bestow upon me the secrets of immortal cultivation.”

Wang Hao scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve always despised that self-satisfied look of yours. So you have a Shifu? Big deal! This young master can brew potions!”

Wang Zhuo cast a disdainful glance at Wang Hao, ignoring him. His gaze then settled upon Wang Lin, who remained silent, a chilling amusement in his voice. “Tie Zhu, how fares it? I told you before, you lack the aptitude. But neither you nor your father would listen. Now you know the truth, do you not?”

Wang Lin raised his head, casting a brief, unreadable look at Wang Zhuo, before addressing the Heng Yue disciple. “Immortal, my parents await my return. I beseech you, hasten our journey.”

Wang Zhuo, angered that Wang Lin would ignore him, sneered once more. “Bumpkin! You shall remain in that village, carving wood like your father, for all your days.”

The Heng Yue youth, a subtle smile playing on his lips, regarded the three boys. He spoke not a word. With a flick of his sleeve, he vanished with them from the gates of Heng Yue Sect.

The wind on the journey back bit as fiercely as before, but the winds of fate howled even more fiercely through Wang Lin’s soul. Hope had borne him hence, and now despair carried him back.

Before long, the Wang family estate came into view. Wang Lin opened his eyes, and what he saw was like a knife to his heart. The courtyard buzzed with revelers, a feast laid out on tables far grander than those his father had used just days before, covering every inch of ground.

Every member of the Wang clan, even those who traveled afar to procure wood, had returned. They gathered together, celebrating and toasting, a sea of faces awash in merriment.

The heroes of the hour were three: the eldest brother of Wang TianShui, Wang TianShui himself, and his younger brother. Kin surrounded them, offering congratulations and showering them with praise, especially Wang Lin’s father, who had become an object of admiration and wistful sighs.

“Second Brother,” boomed Wang Lin’s father’s sixth brother, a man whose belly strained against his robes, “surely your son will be chosen! You shall never need to work as a carpenter again. Every soul in the family will call you ‘Second Master’!”

“Lao Er,” crooned Wang TianShui’s fifth uncle, his eyes mere slits in his wrinkled face, “I knew you were destined for greatness! And look, I was right! Your fortune lies in Tie Zhu. When Tie Zhu becomes an Immortal, his father will be a figure of legend!”

“Second Brother,” Wang Hao’s father, Wang TianShui’s younger brother, said with a broad smile as he approached with a goblet brimming. “Your Tie Zhu and my son will both be chosen. It has been decades since we last broke bread together; tonight, we drink until we cannot stand!”

Tie Zhu’s father gazed at the relatives who had once looked down upon him, his chest swelling with pride. The gloom of years past vanished, replaced by an unaccustomed radiance. Still, a stone of anxiety remained in his heart.

“Tie Zhu…you must be chosen!”

“Sister-in-law, your life with my Second Brother has been blessed. Having a child like Tie Zhu! Why, every soul for miles around will know your name!”

“Truly, Sister-in-law, your child is more talented than my own. Tie Zhu has always been clever. A good boy indeed!”

“Mother of Tie Zhu, though we are of the same blood, many families intermarry these days. My daughter is of age, and Tie Zhu is a fine young man. I have always admired him. Perhaps we should unite our families?” Like Tie Zhu’s father, Tie Zhu’s mother was surrounded by women, engaging in cheerful village chatter.

Tie Zhu’s elder brother watched the proceedings with a cold eye, muttering internally, *Just wait. Wait until the Immortal sends the boy back. Then you will see how this ends if Tie Zhu isn’t chosen. Let’s see how our Second Brother saves face.*

Thinking this, he laughed and responded to the words of praise with a few platitudes, raising his cup to those fawning over his family.

The scene was a cacophony of noise and boasts. Suddenly, a streak of light descended from the heavens, landing amidst the revelry. It resolved into four figures.

Silence fell. Every member of the Wang clan trembled, daring not to speak.

The Heng Yue disciple scanned the crowd, a flicker of melancholy crossing his face. He had witnessed such a celebration when he was chosen, and a pang of empathy struck him as he looked at Wang Lin. He knew that this young man was about to face a trial that would crush even the strongest of adults.

“The Great Dao is without emotion…” the youth murmured, shaking his head. With a swift motion, he mounted his sword and flew away.

“Cultivators must be free of worldly ties. Settle your affairs, and I shall return in three days to collect you,” his voice echoed from afar.

Tie Zhu’s father’s elder brother stepped forward as soon as the Immortal was gone, excitedly asking his son, “Did Dao Xu Shangxian accept you as a disciple?”

Wang Zhuo’s face was filled with self-importance. “Of course. My Shifu says I will become one of the best disciples of Heng Yue within a decade.”

Wang Zhuo’s father was overjoyed, slapping his son on the back. “Good! Wang Zhuo, you will be an Immortal. Our Wang family will have an Immortal! Hahaha!”

Wang Hao’s father was also in a frenzy of excitement, staring at Wang Hao. Just as he was about to ask, Wang Hao yawned and said, “Father, no need to ask. Your son is already a disciple of Heng Yue.”

Wang Hao’s father was ecstatic, taking a deep draught from his cup. Wang Zhuo glanced over with disdain, saying mockingly, “Third Uncle, you raised a good son, embarrassing the Wang family in front of everyone, fawning all over the Immortal and offering gifts just to get a position as a medicine boy.”

Wang Hao raised an eyebrow. “I am content, so what? We’ll see whose immortal techniques are stronger, then we’ll see who embarrassed the Wang family.”

Tie Zhu’s father had been watching his son closely, and when he saw the downcast look on his face, he felt his heart clench in premonition.

“Tie Zhu, you…how was it?” Tie Zhu’s mother asked, her voice filled with anxious hope.