The formalities of the Welcome Assembly drew to a close with ceremonial fanfare. Sheung sat stiffly among the rows of newly inducted students on the jade-tiled benches circling the inner courtyard of the Celestial Academy. Banners fluttered above, glowing gently with enchantments, and the voices of Elders echoed like waves in the ears of the crowd.
He could still feel the anger that had surged in his veins at the laughter from the crowd which had erupted when his sect—the Taoist Dragonblood Sect—had been announced. Even now, whispers rippled like shadows behind hands.
A voice cut through the murmurs.
"Did you see that one from the Taoist ruins? What was it again… Dragonbone? Dragonshed?" The voice belonged to a tall boy seated a few rows ahead—Zev, clad in the black and silver-trimmed robes of the Vault of the Name.
Laughter bubbled from a few others. Zev smirked, turning to a companion. "What kind of sect only has four people? Maybe next year the moss growing on their walls will be promoted to Elder."
A spark rose in Sheung's chest. He started to rise—until a soft but firm hand touched his arm.
"Don't," said a melodic voice.
He turned to find a beautiful girl seated behind him, calm and composed in pale-blue robes embroidered with bellflowers and filigree. Her eyes, cool like still water, fixed on Zev.
"Zev," she called lightly, her voice carrying across the marble court, "I'd suggest you stop embarrassing yourself. My parents taught me to respect those who carry the legacy of ancient pacts. You seem to have forgotten our Hall's history."
The crowd quieted instantly. Zev's face flushed with fury. He stood, muttered something unintelligible, and stalked away with his followers, throwing one last glare over his shoulder at Sheung.
Sheung sat, stunned.
The girl turned to him, offering a nod. "Crystal Bell Hall has always been allied with the Taoist sect, even in better days. I know you're probably used to standing alone, but if you ever need backup, consider me a friendly voice."
"I—thank you," Sheung stammered, bowing his head slightly. "I didn't expect…"
"You don't have to explain." Her lips curved faintly. "You'll get used to surprises here. I'm Jingfei, by the way."
Sheung nodded. "Sheung Longyao."
Jingfei offered a soft smile, then stood gracefully as the assembly began to disperse.
Left sitting alone again, Sheung watched her go, heart still beating fast. Her words warmed him—but also left a sting. He was grateful… yet ashamed. Ashamed that he had needed someone else to speak for him.
He clenched his hand around the brush hidden in his robes.
He would repay her kindness. And he would grow strong enough that no one would ever need to speak for him again.