Hua ChunMing did not say another word the entire trip.

  When the cloud touched down at Heaven’s Pavilion, Hua ChunMing stepped forwards, not meeting either disciple’s gaze before briskly disappearing into the crowd.

  Yuan Xia watched the indigo figure disperse among the watercolour waves and let out a sigh. He didn’t expect Hua ChunMing’s reaction to be so severe. In his past life, had he done something terribly wrong to the Righteous Leader? So much so that he felt no choice but to execute all of Yuan Xia's lookalikes?

  At least Yuan Xia was still alive.

  A heavy atmosphere enveloped both inner disciples.

  “Well. I’m going to go check the pavilion out! Will you be alright on your own?” Shuang blinked at Yuan Xia, clearly guilty from the entire ordeal.

  Yuan Xia nodded. He felt that the both of them could use some time alone.

  Shuang patted Yuan Xia on the shoulder, then stood from the translucent ptform and walked off.

  After a second, Yuan Xia’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t see; Shuang could at least help him onto the loading dock before vanishing into thin air…!

  As, the streak of verdant green had long disappeared.

  Closing his eyes, Yuan Xia prayed to the Heavens as he took his first step. To his front, he heard endless conversation, and the more he intuitively paced on, the louder the voices grew. Certain that he’d found his bance, Yuan Xia opened his eyes.

  In his foggy vision, he saw an enormous space surrounded by marble pilrs, held up by yers of clouds. The Sun’s rays hit each pilr at the perfect angle, shining a kaleidoscopic light down upon the arena.

  Where the pure light should have blinded him, the Dark Clouds Shuang gave him soothed him instead, and Yuan Xia easily navigated to one of the pilrs.

  A scent passed by Yuan Xia. Roses. He suddenly wondered if he’d find Deng QiuShi here.

  Near the pilr where Yuan Xia stood, two boys whispered amongst themselves. One of them had vender hair, tied into a braid over his left shoulder, and his brilliant cerulean eyes sparkled. The other looked like a lion, with fming orange hair and melty golden eyes.

  Yuan Xia’s gaze drifted over to the two, both of which reminded him heavily of Doctor Yu and Elder Jing. But there were no such coincidences in this world. He shook his head, erasing his conjectures.

  As Yuan Xia pondered, he heard an energetic shout. The orange-haired boy motioned wildly at the taller purple-haired one, then pointed in Yuan Xia’s direction. Both heads turned. Two gazes met one.

  Then, the orange boy ran at Yuan Xia.

  Startled, Yuan Xia tripped backwards. He hadn’t expected a direct confrontation! Were young cultivators so bold?!

  Tensing, Yuan Xia braced himself for the fall, when….

  Soft pink robes caught him, surrounding him with scents of lily in a soft embrace. Having been caught twice in a row, Yuan Xia bnched.

  Why does this scene feel so familiar?

  Trying to figure out who had saved him this time, Yuan Xia tilted his head up. But there was only one cultivator he knew who wore such a deep shade of pink. To his surprise, this cultivator lifted him into his arms. Her floral fragrance fanned out from her nape.

  Deng QiuShi!

  “Yuan Xia.” Deng QiuShi patted his head, raking her slender fingers through his long blonde hair. “I was so worried for you!”

  Unable to respond, Yuan Xia blinked in silence. He still didn’t know how he saw Deng QiuShi, or how he should act. Whether he should continue behaving like an innocent child, or scorn her for treating him like someone much more familial than he actually was. But neither option felt right, and he remained a salted fish in Deng QiuShi’s arms.

  Struggling internally, Yuan Xia didn’t notice as the orange-haired lion-boy shook his head, rose from the ground, and threw himself at Yuan Xia once again. Tugging at the hem of Yuan Xia’s robes, he turned to his vender-haired companion with a snide voice.

  “Yu Shui! Look, his eyes are different colours!”

  The lion-child couldn’t have been over 15 years old. Yet, because he bore none of the maturity like others of his age, he appeared much younger. Meanwhile, his older friend named Yu Shui, had a sophisticated air—sharp, understanding. He wore white medical robes, contrasting the lion-child’s bck kasaya. An orange ribbon tied his neat braid down, and he held a scroll in his left hand.

  Yu Shui hummed lightly. The air froze around him. “Jing Zhe, come here.”

  Jing Zhe’s next remark was swallowed back with much difficulty from the tip of his tongue. Shuffling forwards, he csped his hands together and stared at the ground. He held his breath the entire way.

  “I am disappointed in you.” With an intense yet feathery voice, Yu Shui pinched Jing Zhe’s ear and frowned. “Can you tell me why?”

  With a hitch in his breath, Jing Zhe nodded. Even though he couldn’t tell why.

  “Uh….” He exhaled, sneaking gnces at Yuan Xia.

  Deng QiuShi walked over to the two, kneeling to let Yuan Xia down. Sitting on the clouds, she faced the children eye-level with a disappointed smile. But just as she opened her mouth to scold them, Yu Shui bowed his head instead. A lock of purple hair slid from behind his ear.

  He stared daggers at Jing Zhe, and the young lion followed.

  “I apologize for my friend’s rude behaviour. He holds no ill-intent—I’ve simply failed to educate him well.” Quick-witted, Yu Shui kept his head down, waiting to hear Deng QiuShi’s sigh of relief before straightening back up.

  To the side, Jing Zhe huffed. His orange hair fluttered, strands of yellow interspersed.

  Yuan Xia observed Yu Shui. This must be the Doctor’s son. He looked no older than 16, yet not even a year older than the energetic Jing Zhe by his side. What could Yu Shui possibly mean by ‘educate’? Tutoring??

  “Hah…. I can’t believe it. This is the second time I see an Orthodox cultivator’s scalp.” Deng QiuShi sighed. “We… accept your apology. What are your names?”

  Yu Shui tucked his loose hair behind his ear and cupped his fists in gratitude. Behind him, Jing Zhe copied, though he puffed up his cheeks like a dissatisfied squirrel.

  “I am Yu Shui, the acting Doctor of the Orthodox Sects.” Stepping aside, he revealed the angry Jing Zhe. “And this is Young Master Jing Zhe, from the Temple of Beneficence. His father is Elder Jing…. I’m not sure if you’ve seen him around.”

  Deng QiuShi nodded, and Yuan Xia recalled the spirited Elder who’d brought them to the registration desk. No wonder the two had overpped in his mind earlier. What a coincidence indeed…!

  “And my mother is the leading priest of the House of Creation!” Stomping his foot, Jing Zhe decred in a loud voice, surprising the cultivator passersby.

  What? Both Yuan Xia and Deng QiuShi wore faces of disbelief. A child from such a rich background… could be raised to become something like this?

  Yu Shui pulled on Jing Zhe’s cheek this time, his face flushed in embarrassment.

  “May I ask, who are you two?” He took control of the conversation, and his eyes subconsciously wandered to Yuan Xia.

  “I’m Deng QiuShi.” Feeling somewhat unsafe, the woman pulled Yuan Xia into her arms. “And this is my son, Yuan Xia.”

  Both Yu Shui and Jing Zhe’s eyes widened at the name. Jing Zhe broke free from Yu Shui’s grasp and pointed at Yuan Xia. But to his surprise, the orange-haired boy did not break out in shouts.

  “See, he’s just like the Demon Lord! From the textbooks!” Whispering, just enough for Yuan Xia to overhear, Jing Zhe began yanking at Yu Shui’s white clothes. “I remember my history, are you proud of me?”

  Ears dripping blood, Yu Shui looked away and pced a hand over his forehead.

  “Miss Deng, Yuan Xia.” He addressed the two, helplessness in his voice. “It’s an honour to… meet you.”

  “Are you mute too?” Jing Zhe blurted out to Yuan Xia with no hesitation.

  The ring on Yu Shui’s left hand glowed. In a fsh, a golden cudgel appeared, and Yu Shui threatened Jing Zhe immediately into silence. After a minute, Yu Shui tapped his staff onto the ground.

  When Yuan Xia blinked, the cudgel had already disappeared back onto the Doctor’s middle finger, leaving just a twinkle of gold.

  A private weapon?

  The four cultivators’ first meeting was a mess. Deng QiuShi hugged Yuan Xia close, with no heart to comment further. Jing Zhe appeared on the verge of tears, and Yu Shui began to scold him tediously.

  But amidst the childish turmoil, Yuan Xia couldn’t stop his gaze from flitting between Jing Zhe and Yu Shui. One was from a prominent Orthodox background, while the other came from a humble vilge as the only son of a renowned doctor. However, even if the spoiled child of two sects was impulsive and spoke brashly, the calm Doctor beside him banced his negative traits out.

  Like Yin and Yang, reliant, inseparable.