A week later, Divine Bird City's city hall filled with the scent of incense and the nervous chatter of applicants. Crowds surged toward the highly anticipated entrance exams, pressing through the doors as more people arrived from across the city.
Situated at the very heart of the city, the sprawling city hall covered over a dozen acres of prime land. Its architecture was unpretentious yet imposing, characterized by sun-warmed stone floors and massive crimson wooden pillars that rose toward a brick-tiled roof. The structure exuded an air of tradition and unwavering strength. Typically reserved for grand events like martial arts tournaments or vibrant festivals, the hall's vast interior was designed to comfortably accommodate hundreds of thousands of souls.
On this particular day, aspiring cultivators formed long, winding lines to submit their applications to various schools. Some held their forms with grim determination; others waited anxiously, watching the people ahead of them.
While many aimed for the heavens, applying to prestigious institutions with trembling hands, others chose smaller schools, their gazes downcast as they weighed their chances against the more competitive gates.
The most coveted among them, Peacock School, acted as a beacon for the largest crowd. The line of applicants stretched toward the horizon, filled with hopefuls willing to endure the notoriously grueling exam.
For many, it wasn't just about the glory of passing; even failing the Peacock School's entrance exam carried a certain dignity, a badge of courage far less shameful than being rejected by a lesser establishment. I can always sharpen my blade and try again next year, whispered many a voice in the crowd.
Meanwhile, those who had already secured their forms clustered in tight groups to discuss the exam. They speculated about the top candidates, traded rumors and made bold predictions. Excited chatter filled every corner of the hall, each cultivator hoping to secure a place in their dream school.
"As I expected, Goddess Mei is applying to Peacock School. I'm glad I chose the same place to take the test. Even if I don't pass, watching her in action is worth it."
"Exactly! I'd bet anything she's aiming for the top ranking this year."
"Of course! Who else could compete with her? I mean, even if I don't know her current cultivation level, who could surpass her in this exam?"
"Ha! Don't you know she was ranked second in preschool?"
"Second? That's impossible! Then who was first?"
"Are you seriously forgetting the greatest genius of our city?"
"Ahh, right! I thought he'd already joined a school, considering he awakened his bloodline at just nine years old."
"Yeah, many schools practically begged him to enroll, offering all kinds of benefits, but he turned them all down."
"Well, that's not surprising for someone from the Ying Clan. It's one of the city's four great clans, after all."
The crowd murmured their agreement, a sea of heads nodding in unison as the weight of that name settled over them.
"What about the other geniuses from the other two great clans?"
"You mean from the Sikong Clan and the He Clan?"
The curious cultivator nodded eagerly, leaning in to catch the response.
"He Clan's third young master, He Chen, will be taking Peacock School's exam too. He's not particularly strong, but he should be good enough to pass."
"And the Sikong Clan? Their power is only second to the Mei Clan's. Surely they've produced a genius capable of rivaling this so-called greatest genius."
Divine Bird City boasted four great clans: Mei, Sikong, Ying, and He—ranked in descending order of martial strength. While the Mei Clan ruled the city with a firm hand, the power gap among the four was razor-thin, with each clan boasting multiple Wing Realm Masters. The city's social fabric buzzed with a sharp tension, an underlying rivalry that turned the entrance exam into a battlefield where clans showcased their brightest talents for the world to see.
"Well, they have their own geniuses, but they won't be participating in Peacock School's exam."
"Why not?"
"What?! Are you clueless, pretending, or just ignorant to ask that?"
The crowd chuckled, a wave of mocking laughter that rippled through the hall, leaving the questioner red-faced with embarrassment as he felt the weight of a thousand judgmental eyes.
"I really don't know," he admitted sheepishly, looking down at his boots to avoid the collective gaze.
A cultivator among the crowd sighed, the sound heavy with the patience of one dealing with a child, before answering, "Fine, let me explain. The Sikong Clan views the Mei Clan as their sworn enemy."
"Although the Mei Clan doesn't give them much thought, they still stay cautious of anyone from the Sikong Clan. That's why the Sikong would never send their geniuses into enemy territory."
"And don't forget," he added, "the Sikong Clan has its own school, Sparrow School. Why would they bother taking the exam of another school?"
The crowd murmured in agreement as the bloody, complex history between the two clans was laid bare. While the Ying Clan and the He Clan supported the Mei Clan's peaceful rule over the city, the Sikong Clan stood opposed, their ambition a cold flame that never died. They believed themselves more suited for leadership and envisioned a militaristic approach—strengthening the city to dominate and conquer nearby territories through sheer force.
In contrast, the Mei Clan sought peace and friendship with neighboring cities, creating a stable and prosperous environment for their citizens. These opposing ideals—war and peace—left no room for compromise, creating a rift that felt as deep as the city's foundations.
Though the Sikong's animosity toward the Mei was well-known, they had avoided overt conflict since Feng Luotian's father came to power. His presence seemed to keep the Sikong in check like a mountain holding back a storm, but their simmering resentment and rivalry never truly disappeared, lingering in the shadows of every alleyway and training hall.
"Anyway, even if someone from the Sikong Clan were to join Peacock School's exam this year, there's no way they could match our Goddess Mei, right, everyone?"
"Yeah!!" the crowd roared in unanimous agreement, a thunderous wave of sound that shook the rafters, their voices echoing with unwavering confidence in the girl's unparalleled abilities.
While the crowd reveled in the commotion, Mei Yue'er, Sun Wuji, and Ying Lizhua had already submitted their application forms. However, Feng Luotian was nowhere in sight, and Yue'er was growing anxious as they waited for him in the crowded hall.
"Wuji, you said he'd definitely be here," Yue'er complained, her anxiety evident in the furrow of her brows and the way her fingers twisted the hem of her sleeve.
"Of course he will! He promised he'd return awakened, didn't he? When has he ever broken a promise?" Wuji replied with a grin of forced confidence, though a flicker of unease betrayed him in the slight tremor of his voice. Deep down, he knew the boy's unpredictability.
One day, Luotian would dream of living as a simple commoner, content with the quiet life; the next, he'd set out on a wild journey into the unknown in search of breakthroughs.
Seizing the opportunity to twist the knife, Lizhua sneered at the other boy's faith. "Awaken just like that? Really? What a joke! Why would you even believe such nonsense, you stupid monkey?"
Wuji, never one to shy away from a provocation, retorted immediately, his face flushing a deep crimson. "Oh, look who's talking! Lizhua, do you ever stop running your foul mouth? I swear your breath is so bad I can smell it from across the city! It's like a swamp in July!"
The tension erupted into a sudden scuffle, but without any Theríon or Skill involved, their "fight" devolved into something entirely absurd. They pulled hair with undignified grunts, pinched at reddening cheeks, and grabbed at fine clothes like squabbling children in a nursery. Even the street urchins in the city's back alleys could have staged a more tactical brawl than this clumsy tangle of limbs.
Their comical display left the surrounding crowd in stitches. Onlookers laughed as they watched the pair tumble and struggle on the stone floor, wondering aloud if the two were really blood-feud enemies—or just hilariously dysfunctional friends.
At that moment, a jeering voice rang out from the side, cutting through the humid air like a dull blade. "What? God's Crippled Son hasn't shown up yet? Last time he had plenty to say, all high and mighty. But I guess he doesn't even have the guts to show his face. What a coward—nothing but bark with no bite."
The voice belonged to the chubby young master, Mei Hongli.
Another provocation? Wuji was ready, his eyes narrowing as he caught the scent of expensive oils and sweat. "Ah, I should have known there was another skunk nearby. The smell gave you away."
"You!! Hmph!!" Mei Hongli huffed, his face turning a mottled shade of red as his chest puffed out beneath his fine silk robes. "Sun Wuji, I hope for your sake that you're stronger than your crippled friend. But even if you're talented, there's no way you're taking the top spot in this exam."
"Of course not, your highness," Wuji replied sarcastically, leaning back with a smirk that dripped with disdain. "After all, with your father as the exam proctor, it's practically a guaranteed win for you. On the contrary, it'd be embarrassing if you couldn't take the top spot, wouldn't it?"
Mei Hongli's face darkened as he frowned, the gears turning slowly behind his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh? You don't understand?" a new voice chimed in, sharp and calm, vibrating with a strange, newfound resonance.
Mei Hongli turned toward the source, his expression immediately souring.
"Feng Luotian!!"
Whispers spread through the crowd as people recognized the newcomer. Feng Luotian was one of the most well-known figures in Divine Bird City, and his arrival immediately drew their attention away from Mei Hongli.
"It's God's Son! Is he here for the Peacock School's exam too?"
"He must be, otherwise why would he show up?"
"But… isn't he still crippled?"
"Shush! Watch what you're saying! He's sworn siblings with Goddess Mei. Do you want to get us all in trouble?"
"Still, I don't see how he'll pass the exam."
"Pass? Does it even matter? With his ties to the Mei Clan, he doesn't need to pass anything. Peacock Lord treats him better than his own daughter. Strength won't matter here."
"Well, it feels a little unfair."
"If you want fairness, go make your father the god of the city."
"What did you just say?!"
The crowd's bickering was silenced as Luotian strode confidently toward Mei Hongli, drawing everyone's attention. He moved with a grace that felt unfamiliar, his footsteps light yet deliberate on the stone floor. Though many didn't know Mei Hongli personally, they were all curious to see how this confrontation would unfold.
Continuing his earlier statement, Luotian stepped right up to Mei Hongli and spoke with a calm but cutting tone that chilled the nearby onlookers. "Mei Hongli, you'll undoubtedly cheat on this exam—your father will see to that. But here's the real question: if someone manages to beat your score without cheating, what does that say about you? Wouldn't that make you even less capable than me?"
"That's exactly what I meant," Wuji chimed in, confirming Luotian's point with a sharp bark of laughter. "It'd be really embarrassing if you didn't take the top."
Luotian smirked as Wuji walked over to greet him with their signature handshake combo, the slap of their palms echoing through the hall. "Long time no see, Brother Feng. You look like you've gotten a lot stronger."
"Well, pretty much!" Luotian replied with a grin, his blue eyes bright with amusement.
The two casually strolled toward Yue'er, completely ignoring the seething Mei Hongli. The crowd buzzed with excitement, eagerly speculating about the brewing tension and what would happen next as the trio reunited.
"You bastards! Who said I would cheat?" Mei Hongli bellowed, his face flushed with a desperate anger.
The accusation had struck a nerve—after all, being caught cheating on the exam would be far more humiliating than failing outright. His voice carried a frantic edge, as if trying to convince himself as much as the suspicious crowd.