Ceremony of Arrival
Morning mist drifts across the great jade courtyard of Qingyao Hall, where the welcome ceremony is held for all visiting disciples from various clans.
The dignified Clan Leader of Jinyue, Jin Yuheng— a sharp-eyed, graceful man with silver-threaded robes and a presence that commands silence — sits at the head of a raised platform.
One by one, the visiting clans approach:
Lanhe Clan (兰鹤) offers a rare spiritual herb.
Baishan Clan (白山) brings an ice-forged jade scroll.
Lingxiao Clan (灵霄)… shows up late.
Lingxiao Clan's representative, the sweet and composed older sister Ling Hanyue, bows gracefully, introducing her family. The twins follow, properly.
Then Yiran steps forward— half-eaten bun in his hand, robes messy, hair windswept.
"Clan Leader Jin, thank you for letting us crash— I mean, cultivate here!"
Murmurs ripple. Jin Yuheng's expression hardens.
Hanyue smiles awkwardly. The twins want to disappear.
———
Disciples gather in an ancient marble hall beneath windchimes and talisman banners.
Teaching is led by Elder Jin Renshu (金仁书), an elderly scholar with a fan he snaps closed like a blade.
Classes begin with formal lectures on music cultivation, purity of qi, and discipline.
Suddenly: THWACK!
Yiran drops his inkbrush while doodling on his scroll. He yawns and mutters too loudly: "Honestly, demonic cultivators sound more fun than these stick-in-the-mud rules."
Silence. Elder Jin freezes.
Then—
"YOU—!"
A scroll flies and hits Yiran square on the head.
"Disrespectful brat! Get out of my hall!"
Yiran rubs his head, pouting. "So dramatic…"
He walks out, completely unbothered. His siblings cover their faces.
The elder turns to Suoxue, eyes cold.
"Jin Suoxue. Go after him. Make sure he learns something."
Outside, Yiran storms off toward the outer corridor, muttering.
He bumps into a boy fanning himself in the shade beneath a painted screen — elegant, quiet, and startled.
The boy stammers: "Y-you're the loud one from Lingxiao…— I'm Feng Mian. From Yunjiu Clan."
Yiran notices the beautifully embroidered fan and the boy's shy habit of hiding behind it.
"Hey, that fan's prettier than my sister's hairpin!"
Feng Mian blushes furiously. They bond awkwardly.
———
Whoosh — Suoxue descends from the stone stairs, eyes like ice.
Yiran sighs. "What now, Cold Face?"
Suoxue: "You've embarrassed your clan. Your siblings. Yourself."
Yiran: grinning "What else is new?"
They bicker — Suoxue trying to lecture, Yiran mocking the 10,000 rules.
Suddenly, Suoxue draws a sigil in the air — a silent music note that sends pressure toward Yiran.
Yiran counters with a talisman from his sleeve. Boom! Tree leaves scatter.
Nearby disciples scatter from the small commotion.
.
.
.
Jin Yuheng appears, silent and still, watching from a balcony.
Suoxue notices and stops mid-attack, bowing.
Yiran huffs, arms crossed.
"Guess you do know how to follow orders."
Jin Yuheng simply says: "Both of you. Extra meditation hours. Together."
Yiran: "What—!?"
Suoxue: just sighs silently