It was a strange thing, how the sect could swing from bloodshed to butterflies in a blink.
One moment, the platform rang with clashing qi and crushed pride. The next, disciples were clapping for a flute solo, pretending they hadn't just watched someone nearly get eaten by a demonic beast.
Jia Wei Xin, now clad in fresh robes—pale lavender trimmed in silver—sat behind Liu Mo Fei once more, calm, composed, and perfectly content to sip tea like she hadn't just humiliated a beast-tamer in front of six thousand people.
She tilted the cup, exhaled, and took a sip. Jasmine. Slightly over-steeped. But not bad for post-battle refreshments.
Then came the announcement that shattered her moment of peace.
---
"The Practical Training Contest shall begin tomorrow!" declared the elder, his voice laced with spiritual energy that shook the stones underfoot.
If excitement had a form, it would have burst out like golden fireworks across the mountain.
The crowd roared. Some disciples cheered. Some groaned. Others began panicking on the spot.
"The Winding Spirit Forest has been chosen as the battleground," the elder continued, sounding far too pleased for someone announcing a death trap. "It is a place of great opportunity… and great danger."
"Teams of five have been arranged by the Elders. You will be judged not only on individual strength, but on how well you work with the team selected for you."
Jia Wei Xin sipped again, thinking: Teams of five? Arranged? Dangerous forest? Is this another survival test disguised as 'training'?
---
She didn't move. Just tapped her teacup once. Twice.
Behind her, Liu Mo Fei's voice slid in like a blade between ribs."Don't worry. I've arranged everything."
Translation: I handpicked your team, bribed the list keeper, threatened two elders, and cross-checked horoscopes to make sure no one tries to flirt with you.
Jia Wei Xin only could blink in response.
Of course Liu Mo Fei had already planned everything—handpicking a team with the romantic imagination of a rock and the emotional resistance of a monk in winter.
---
The elder raised a hand for silence, then added:
"This year, we are introducing two special rules."
"One: Team exchanges may be made, but only with mutual agreement between the two parties."
"Two: We are allowing some flexibility in team sizes. If a member chooses to join another team and the receiving team agrees, the new team can have a minimum of four and a maximum of six members."
"These changes comes in response to feedback—some disciples have felt excluded or mistreated in their previous teams. We hope this will allow everyone to find the team where they belong."
There was a brief stir in the crowd. Whispers rippled through the disciples. Jia Wei Xin sipped again, trying not to look smug.
She was the one who had proposed that change. Quietly. During one of those Elder Council meetings she never thought they'd actually listen to.
The elder cleared his throat again.
"And lastly—team leaders have been preassigned by the elders, but teams may vote to change their team leader. Majority wins."
"The team list has been posted at the East Pavilion. You can head there."
That got the disciples buzzing.
A stampede broke out like someone had just dropped spirit fruit in a duck pen.
Jia Wei Xin sighed and rose, strolling toward the chaos with the serenity of someone walking into a storm with an umbrella and a snack.
---
The East Pavilion was a battlefield.
Disciples jostled, shoved, and strained to read the wooden boards bearing the team names. It looked less like a noble gathering and more like a spirit peach clearance sale.
Jia Wei Xin slipped through the crowd like a knife through butter.
Her eyes found the board.
Team 11:
– Jia Wei Xin (Team Leader)
– Luo Han
– Chen Yu
– Mei Lan
– Chang Dian
Her brow twitched. Barely. But it twitched.
Why did she have to be the team leader? Liu Mo Fei, can you just give me one peaceful day?!
And then—Chang Dian.Of course.Why is he here again? Did he sneak into Liu Mo Fei's carefully curated list while no one was looking?
He leaned against a post nearby, arms crossed, that same infuriatingly smug grin on his face. The same tousled hair, the same fox-like glint in his eyes.
To the world, he was just another enthusiastic disciple.
To her, he was Zhang Tian—with a bad haircut, better acting, and surprisingly decent disguise charm.
She said nothing. Walked up. Nodded once.
He winked.
---
Their teammates arrived shortly after.
Luo Han—solid, dependable, courteous to a fault.
Chen Yu—silent, intense, likely carved from stone.
Mei Lan—refined, calm, with alchemy skills and the kind of poise that allowed her to brew tea during a thunderstorm… or demon attack.
Jia Wei Xin scanned the group and clapped her hands once."So," she said, "anyone object to me as team leader? Anyone else wants the role?"
The group froze.
A beat of silence.
Then:
"No, no objection," Luo Han coughed.
"You're the best choice," Chen Yu nodded once.
Mei Lan gave a serene smile. "We're happy with you leading."
Even Chang Dian, hands tucked behind his head, gave a lazy shrug. "Can't imagine anyone better."
They didn't say it aloud, but the thoughts were near identical:
After what she did on stage, her insane breakthrough, and with Liu Mo Fei clearly watching her like a priceless treasure—who would even dare to object?
Forget opposing her. The real strategy was to cling to her thigh and never let go.
---
Then someone swaggered over.
He was tall, with hair gelled to perfection, and the kind of ego that thought a shiny sword hilt equated to romantic magnetism.
"Jia Wei Xin, right?" he asked loudly, not waiting for an answer. "I'm Wan Sing, leader of Team 3. You shouldn't waste your time with this group. Team 3 has three inner court elites. Join us—you'd be safer. We've already got someone willing to exchange for you."
Jia Wei Xin blinked slowly.
Another boy stepped forward, clearly his backup hype man. "With your skills? It's a waste to bury you with… these."
His gaze dropped dismissively to Chang Dian.
Chang Dian's jaw ticked. He was two seconds from wrecking someone's teeth. But Jia Wei Xin raised her hand. A small, graceful stop.
She turned back to Wan Sing. "Oh? Who's so eager to give up their spot for me?"
Wan Sing gestured. "Yan Ping. She's, well… an outer disciple."
From behind the group, a girl hesitantly stepped forward.
She was thin, nervous, with a bruise on her arm not quite hidden by her sleeve. She met Jia Wei Xin's gaze—and quickly looked down.
Bullied. Jia Wei Xin thought.Probably pushed around her whole life. Being 'offered' up like a pawn again.
Jia Wei Xin smiled. Slowly. Sweetly.
The kind of smile that preceded a thunderstorm.
"I see," she said. "So if I join, you're stepping down and letting me be team leader?"
Wan Sing blinked. "W-what?"
"I mean," she continued with mock curiosity, "if you're that confident I'm a better fit—shouldn't I lead?"
Wan Sing stiffened. "I'm already Advanced rank. I—no, I didn't mean that."
"Ohhh," she said, drawing the word out, lips curving. "So you're not ready to give up your precious leader spot. But you expect me to give up mine?"
He faltered. "That's not what I—"
She turned to Yan Ping, voice warmer now."You can join us here."
Yan Ping's eyes widened. "R-really?"
Jia Wei Xin nodded, then looked to her team."If it's alright with everyone, I'd like her to join us."
One by one, they nodded or voiced their agreement.
No one objected.
Even though Yan Ping was clearly a weak outer disciple—someone who had likely been pushed around and discarded by her own team—Jia Wei Xin welcomed her without hesitation.
And that left an impression.
Someone with her status… accepting someone like that, with such calm sincerity…
A quiet awe settled over them.
Jia Wei Xin turned back to Yan Ping and smiled. "Only if you want to."
The girl blinked, stunned. Then gave a tiny, shaky bow. "Thank you…"
Jia Wei Xin looked back at Wan Sing.
"I'll stay with my team. And I don't trade people like spare herbs at a market stall. Good luck finding your fifth."
Chang Dian smirked. "You heard her. Shoo."