"Shizun, I don't want to go!" Nan Wuyue suddenly blurted out.

Mo Yixuan only gave him a long look. "The sect leader has more than enough experience to help you."

"But you're my shizun!"

"I obviously haven't been doing a very good job," Mo Yixuan stated drolly.

"Whatever the case, you've been indulging him far too much," Fei Chenling tsk'd from the side. "I blame myself for setting the bad example and spoiling you first, Xuan'er."

It was meant as a rebuke to master and disciple both, but Mo Yixuan just shrugged it off. "I'll try to change my ways, then."

"You're fine as you are," Fei Chenling declared firmly. "After what happened with—" He suddenly stopped and shook his head. "...never mind."

Who? Mo Yixuan made a mental note to ask Ouyang Che about it later. Then he frowned—was there really no one else he could find?

Perhaps Mu Yelian...if he could stomach her enthusiasm long enough. He suddenly realized the vexing problem of keeping to himself versus getting an informed opinion on things.

"I can't abandon shizun while he's hurt," Nan Wuyue protested.

"I've already recovered," Mo Yixuan reminded them both, again.

"Not until you're checked up, you aren't," Fei Chenling cut in, before shooting a glare at Nan Wuyue. "As for you, listen to what your master says if you're so devoted to him!"

"I won't leave shizun until I'm sure he's well!" Nan Wuyue went on doggedly. "It's my basic duty as his core disciple!"

"You still remember you're a core disciple!" Fei Chenling exploded. "What good will it do to stay by his side when the inter-faction competitions come up? You'll only be losing your master face!"

That was a sore point for Nan Wuyue, who had indeed been reduced to watching from the sidelines in his last life while the battles went on.

"That won't happen this time," he vowed.

"This time?! Are you planning for a second chance after your failure? Don't even dream about it!" Fei Chenling shot back. "I'll remove you from the rank of inner disciple before that ever happens!"

Nan Wuyue creased his brows before finally declaring, "I raise my right to enter the Inner Disciple Trials!"

The Inner Disciple Trials were a series of tests and obstacles designed to gauge the mettle of Star Pavilion Sword Sect members who wanted to qualify as an upper tier disciple of their respective faction. Lucky winners had a higher chance of being taken under a Peak Lord's wing and taught their exclusion teachings.

Because Nan Wuyue was still a child when he first showed such latent talent, he had been automatically made an inner disciple as soon as he joined the sect. Most talents like him grew to realize their potential and then some, so taking the Trials was superfluous.

Nan Wuyue hadn't planned on tackling them in this life either, but he had to stake something to stay by Mo Yixuan's side! It'd be far more difficult to act against his traitorous shizun from a distance, much less outside of the sect.

"You...you obstinate boy!" Fei Chenling exclaimed. By right, any disciple who passed the screening for high latent talent was qualified to request for the trial. The young Nan Wuyue easily met those requirements. While Fei Chenling was fuming over this fact, he suddenly seized upon a point.

Can the boy pass the Trials at all?

If he couldn't, then wasn't this a perfect way to get rid of him? In front of reliable witnesses, no less! Then Xuan'er would be free from this leech of a disciple and could take any of the other multiple talents in Star Pavilion under his wing! He didn't treat Nan Wuyue's declaration as anything more than desperate bravado from a boy who'd been a disappointment too many times to be healthy.

At least Xuan'er's not defending him like usual this time. But Nan Wuyue would still need his master's permission to participate in the Inner Disciple Trials, especially since it was 1) publicly held for the sect and 2) left the participant officially untethered to any master during the duration of the tests, meaning he was fair game for all peak lords interested in taking him on as their disciple. Fei Chenling doubted this master and disciple would change their minds about their relationship with their bonds already so strong, but he wondered whether the protective Mo Yixuan could bear to part with his disciple at all.

"Xuan'er, what do you thin—eh?"

Fei Chenling blinked at the empty space where Mo Yixuan was standing a few seconds earlier. Nan Wuyue was one step ahead of him and already heading out of the hall.

"Shizun, where are you going?"

Fei Chenling fumed and raced after him. There was no way he was going to let a mere disciple beat him in terms of speed!

Unfortunately, neither of them could catch up to Mo Yixuan, who soon vanished over the crest of a hill into the snowy depths of Mt. Linglong. Even his qi signature had winked out of sight—one of the very first tricks he'd asked Ouyang Che to teach him during their little talks.

Fei Chenling gaped. His first reaction was to run around the peak looking for his junior disciple, but his dignity as sect leader belied that option. So he did the next best thing: haul Nan Wuyue by the collar and drag him back to the sect leader's hall over the boy's protestations.

"We're not done yet!" he hissed to the struggling disciple below him. "While your master's off on his little walk, I'll spend some time figuring out just what's wrong with you."

He might not be able to nab his junior brother, but there was a very good chance Mo Yixuan wouldn't leave his disciple behind for long. Or at least, that's how things went in Fei Chenling's memories.

Nan Wuyue narrowed his eyes. Mo Yixuan might be gone, but not the tendril of qi he'd implanted in his body. Even now, he could track it faintly as it headed for a certain direction...northeast? He abruptly stopped struggling before a grin rose to his lips.

Mo Yixuan, you really know how to look for trouble...

—

Meanwhile, the thoroughly overstimulated Mo Yixuan had finally found some measure of peace and quiet away from the quarreling duo. With the exception of the sect leader's hall, snow still covered the grounds up at Mt. Linglong, a stark difference to his wooded mountains. His steps left no mark as he followed a meandering trail away from the building and deeper into the rocks.

He assumed it'd take him to a mountainside trail eventually, but to his surprise it led him to a different courtyard and its buildings after a while. The place was well-kept and expansive; Mo Yixuan assumed that these were Fei Chenling's personal quarters after spotting the familiar wutong wood used to build the structure. Unlike the sect leader's hall, however, all of the windows and doors were tightly shut.

He lingered briefly by the gates before stepping out, only to run into someone just coming in. Or more precisely, his wheelchair. Mo Yixuan stared at the young man dressed in lavish black and gold—a second white robe draped over his shoulder—as he paused and stared back.

His features were fine and angular, with long, narrow eyes that glimmered gray-gold in the light. His hair was tied up in a high ponytail above his head and framed with a simple golden crown that seemed markedly ornate compared to the austere dress of the rest of the sect. He was currently seated in an equally ornate wheelchair of black and gold, pushed by a youth in white behind him.

If Mo Yixuan had to use an analogy, then this man was the panther to Ouyang Che's cat. Despite being confined to his chair, his senses were as taut as a coiled spring.

"I'm sorry," Mo Yixuan apologized reflexively and moved out of the way, but this only led to a bark of laughter from the seated man.

"Wouldn't you say it's a little late for that, Peak Lord Mo?"