The sea of clouds churned as the morning sun rose in the east. Bathed in golden dawn light, the billowing waves of mist shifted endlessly, as if every extre and wonder of the mortal world manifested within that celestial expanse—a scene straight out of an immortal realm.
At the heart of the cloud sea, a towering peak soared tens of thousands of feet into the heavens, piercing through the mist and vanishing into the azure sky, standing opposite the rising sun as it overlooked the vast sea of clouds below.
At its summit stood layers upon layers of grand palaces.
The Cangyun Heavenly Palace had stood here for countless ages, its every brick and tile bearing traces of the Great Dao’s lingering essence, as if it could rival the sun and moon in brilliance.
The skies were painted with radiant hues, and auspicious lodies drifted through the air.
Amidst the chi of immortal bells and drums, Fu Haotian strode forward with his hands clasped behind his back, his robes resplendent. He passed through several palace gates before coming to a steady halt outside the grand hall, waiting in silence.
Behind him trailed fellow disciples—both senior and junior brothers, as well as many admiring junior sisters, their gazes filled with reverence.
Whether in lineage, cultivation, appearance, or bearing, Fu Haotian was among the finest of Cangyun Heavenly Palace’s current generation, long since renowned as a peer to the senior sister Zhong Ling.
In terms of innate talent and background, he even surpassed her.
His early return from the competition for the personal disciple position had already stirred heated discussions among the disciples.
Just as murmurs buzzed through the crowd, a graceful figure stepped into the plaza, making her way toward the grand hall.
Clad in a pale-yellow gown, her raven hair cascading like a waterfall, Zhong Ling carried herself with dignified elegance. Her appearance drew the gazes of many disciples, their eyes alight with admiration and respect. Though fewer in number, their expressions were unwavering.
The mont the senior sister appeared, the murmurs beca impossible to suppress.
Eyes converged upon her as she walked toward the grand hall, stopping directly before its entrance—standing parallel to Fu Haotian, her presence unyielding.
Fu Haotian turned his head slightly, offering a faint smile laced with thinly veiled arrogance.
"Senior Sister Zhong, it’s been a while."
"Travel must have wearied you, given how late you’ve returned to the Heavenly Palace. It seems your journey was not smooth. One should know their limits—there’s no need to force things, Senior Sister."
His words, soft yet barbed, drew indignant glances from many disciples.
Even before the tally of demon corpses had begun, Fu Haotian already wore the air of a victor, his condescending deanor more overbearing than ever.
That veneer of refined gentleness only deepened the frost in Zhong Ling’s gaze.
In terms of background, treasures, connections, or lineage, she could not compare to this pampered heir—such was the unbridgeable gap fate had set between them.
Had it been a contest of effort and talent alone, Zhong Ling was confident she would not lose to him.
Yet reality was cruel.
This competition for the personal disciple position would be decided solely by the number of demonic creatures slain.
She had been outmatched in every aspect, down to the glaring disparity in the quality of their flying vessels. The overwhelming odds all but declared the outco.
But Zhong Ling refused to surrender to fate—she had given her all and would not yield without a fight.
eting his gaze with equal composure, she countered coldly.
"You’re right, Junior Brother Fu. So things were decided long ago."
Her soft voice carried firm resolve, and many disciples rallied behind her, their eyes burning with defiance. Even if they resented the outco, they could not stomach Fu Haotian’s haughty display.
As tensions flared between the two factions, an elder finally erged from the grand hall.
With hands clasped behind his back, he swept his gaze over the disciples, his aura imposing.
At once, the disciples fell silent, bowing their heads in deference.
A weathered voice echoed through the Heavenly Palace.
"In three days, the demon corpses shall be tallied before the grand hall to determine the next personal disciple. Until then, disperse!"
Thousands of disciples bowed in unison.
Zhong Ling and Fu Haotian both responded respectfully.
"As you command, Elder."
When they rose again, the elder’s figure had already vanished.
Fu Haotian's eyes brimd with even greater arrogance as he glanced sideways with a faint smirk, then strode away with a cloud-patterned fan in hand. His upright figure exuded unwavering confidence.
Behind him, a group of disciples trailed along, showering him with flattery.
As the clamor of sycophantic praise faded into the distance, only a handful of people remained at the grand hall's entrance.
The plaza quickly turned desolate, and Zhong Ling also departed with a solemn expression.
She passed through several palace gates along the way.
Her fellow disciples continued grumbling indignantly behind her.
"Fu Haotian is utterly shaless! Flaunting his family's influence and relying on external help—how dare he put on such airs in front of everyone!"
"Hmph! He’s always been like this—a spoiled, overbearing second-generation heir!"
"Judging by his confidence, he must have slain an extraordinary number of demonic creatures."
"Tch, with a Heaven-tier expert backing him and even the Eighth Elder turning a blind eye, what chance do we have to compete?"
"This is so unfair!"
Whispers of discontent rose one after another, the eight fellow disciples all wearing expressions of resentnt.
Yet no matter how heated their discussion beca, Zhong Ling remained silent. None of her brothers spoke up in solidarity either, and even the accompanying sect mbers gradually dispersed.
Such was the coldness of human hearts—such was the way of the world.
A sense of desolation lingered around them.
Only after they exited the inner courtyards of the celestial palace did Wei Zhenfang, who had been squatting in a corner for so long his legs had nearly gone numb, finally spot them. His eyes lit up with delight as he hurried forward, quietly bowing to block their path.
"Greetings, Lady Zhongli!"
The sudden appearance of this unfamiliar elder, politely saluting before them, left Zhong Ling and the others bewildered.
"Esteed senior, you are…?"
Only the Second Senior Brother leaned in to whisper, "He’s one of the experts Fu Haotian hired. I saw it myself—this man boarded the sa flying vessel as Fu Haotian and set off ahead of us."
The hushed words turned the group’s expressions frosty.
Zhong Ling’s deanor remained cool and unyielding, undaunted even in the face of a formidable expert.
"What guidance do you seek from us?"
Wei Zhenfang showed no offense, instead smiling even more warmly.
After scanning the surroundings with his divine sense to confirm no eavesdroppers, he took a step closer and congratulated her with a grin.
"Congratulations on your victory, Lady Zhongli! I ca specifically to offer my felicitations. Truly, you are the people’s choice—destined to be the future master of the Celestial Palace, a title you rightfully deserve!"
The baffling words left Zhong Ling and the others stunned.
Her eyes flashed with suspicion as she probed, "Spare your mockery. If Fu Haotian has sothing to say, speak plainly!"
Yet the mont she finished, Wei Zhenfang blinked, then burst into laughter.
"Ah, hahaha!"
"My lady jests! How could a worthless wretch like Fu Haotian dare mock you? What does he amount to? An ignorant fool who doesn’t know his place—he’s unworthy of competing with you."
The blunt insults only deepened Zhong Ling’s confusion.
This man…
Wasn’t he one of Fu Haotian’s hired experts?
Why was he suddenly cozying up to her?
Before she could question him further, Wei Zhenfang composed himself and mysteriously presented a storage ring.
"Please accept this ring, Lady Zhongli!"
"My task is complete. I wish you success in your triumph!"
Staring at the hovering storage ring, Zhong Ling was utterly lost.
Her clear eyes widened in bewildernt as she asked warily, "What is the aning of this? What ‘victory’ are you referring to? We are strangers, not allies—why gift a storage ring?"
Wei Zhenfang offered no answers to her rapid-fire questions.
Instead, he stroked his beard with a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with the wisdom of one who had seen through everything.
His face showed admiration and respect, casting a aningful glance.
"To remain so composed even now, Young Miss truly keeps a low profile."
"However, with the situation now settled, there’s no need for further restraint. I am already aware of everything—what’s understood need not be spoken. From this mont on, I shall be your subordinate. Should you have any orders, I would gladly lay down my life to fulfill them!"
With that, he bowed deeply.
Wei Zhenfang looked as though he had found his destined master, his eyes brimming with loyalty.
Without waiting for Zhong Ling to respond, he turned and strode away with unwavering resolve. After this brief encounter, the gap between Fu Haotian and this young lady seed as vast as heaven and earth in his mind.
His retreating figure was filled with an indescribable ease and freedom.
At the entrance of the immortal palace’s inner courtyard.
Zhong Ling, bewildered, accepted the floating ring, her face a picture of confusion.
"What’s understood need not be spoken?"
"What in the world is going on? How am I supposed to ‘understand’ anything?"
When she turned back in puzzlent, her fellow disciples were equally lost, exchanging blank stares, scratching their heads in utter bewildernt.
"No idea…"
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