IN THEIR EYES (4)

Cian Xia, known throughout the sect as Elder Master Xia, was infamous for his cold demeanor and unforgiving temper.

He was the most powerful Immortal Master of the Ran Sect.

While elders twice his age had struggled for decades to reach higher realms of cultivation, Cian Xia surpassed them all.

At the age of fifteen, without guidance or external aid, he broke through and became the youngest first-rank Immortal Master in the sect’s history.

Genius.

Monster.

He had been called both.

He disliked unsolicited advice. Disliked relying on others even more. If there was something to be done, he would do it himself. If there was something to learn, he would bleed for it alone.

He had little tolerance for noise, especially from foolish or unruly people.

Only one person had ever been an exception.

Wun Lan.

For him, Cian Xia had endured what he would never tolerate from others. For him, he had softened. For him, he had smiled. But he had never changed who he was, not even for love.

“Aiya, you should smile more,” Chao Fei said suddenly as they walked.

“Why keep such a straight face on such a joyous day?”

Cian Xia looked at him blankly.

“I see nothing worth smiling about,” he replied flatly.

Chao Fei felt as though a mirror had cracked inside his chest. The words were not loud, not cruel, just honest. And honesty hurt more.

Neither of them spoke again as they went deeper inside the function hall.

The YinPing Hall stood grand and radiant, adorned with banners bearing the Ran Sect’s insignia. Silk streamers flowed from carved beams, lanterns glowing warmly overhead.

The courtyard buzzed with movement, junior disciples arranging banquet tables, placing offerings, and lighting calm incense which smoke curling toward the high ceiling.

Senior Masters and their disciples were already seated in their respective positions, though some were still settling in.

Cian Xia glanced sideways at Chao Fei.

“I thought you said they were waiting for me.”

Chao Fei coughed awkwardly.

“Well… it’s better to be early, you know. Haha.”

Cian Xia could only sighed.

As they stepped fully inside, several elders then noticed their arrival.

“A-Fei. A-Xia.”

Their disciples immediately rose to their feet, bowing deeply, spiritual swords raised horizontally before them.

“Greetings, Head Master Gu, and Grandmaster Xia.”

Chao Fei and Cian Xia returned the gesture lightly before taking their seats.

The moment they settled, Elder Master Lu cleared his throat.

“A-Xia,” he began carefully,

"the elders and I have already selected a disciple for you this year. They are from HuLan Village, a small but prosperous place known for agriculture and silk production. They are still in their teens. Their name is—”

“Elder Master Lu.”

Chao Fei abruptly cut him off, his voice sharp enough to slice through the hall.

“Why was this decided without my consent?”

The atmosphere tightened instantly.

“You know our laws,” Chao Fei continued, his tone firm.

“Once someone enters our sect, they cannot simply be sent back down the mountain. This is not a marketplace transaction.”

Elder Lu shifted uncomfortably.

“Forgive us. The other elders and I are only concerned for the sect. Since the demonic war twelve years ago, our numbers have declined severely. If another catastrophe occurs… we may not withstand it.”

At the mention of that war, a subtle stillness passed over the hall.

The memory remained fresh in every heart. They had all sacrificed something. Not only had they lost loved ones, but countless ordinary people, those they had sworn to protect, had perished under their watch.

It was a wound that had never truly closed.

The Ran Sect was governed by five Elder Masters, each overseeing a residence.

LianHua Residence, led by Cian Xia is responsible for land barriers and the sect’s spiritual defenses.

Lingdao Residence, led by Chao Fei Gu, overseeing law, discipline, and internal order.

JiaoYu Residence, led by Elder Lu handled education, recruitment, and disciple training.

KangFu, under Elder Lao Cu, head of healing and medicine.

Zheng, under Elder Jao Shu, in charge of sect affairs and diplomacy.

Elder Cu sighed, his aged face lined with worry.

“Elder Lu speaks truth. Though Wun Lan sacrificed himself to close the Gate of Hell… there is no certainty it will remain sealed forever.”

The hall grew quieter.

“The other three allied sects suffered heavy losses as well,” Elder Cu continued.

“They are still rebuilding.”

Elder Shu nodded.

“Each residence, except LianHua, has already reached the disciple limit permitted by sect law.”

“Our regulation allows twenty to forty disciples per residence,” Elder Cu added.

“Lingdao, JiaoYu, KangFu, and Zheng have reached that limit.”

“So,” Elder Shu concluded carefully,

“we hoped Elder Xia would understand… and accept the additional responsibility.”

Chao Fei’s jaw tightened.

“So it is acceptable to burden Elder Xia alone,” he said with faint sarcasm,

“so that the rest may benefit?”

The room fell silent.

Through it all, Cian Xia remained unmoved.

He lifted the porcelain teacup placed before him, steam curling faintly in the air. He took a slow sip, as though the discussion concerned someone else entirely.

Only after setting the cup down did he finally speak.

“Have you all finished?”

The elders stiffened.

Cian Xia’s gaze was calm, but cold as frost.

“You speak of responsibility. Of survival. Of sacrifice.” His fingers rested lightly against the cup’s rim.

“Tell me… when have I ever refused to defend this sect?”

No one answered.

His eyes lowered slightly.

“But disciples are not shields to be stacked against fear.”

The weight of his words settled heavily over the hall.

“If you have already brought this child here,” he continued evenly,

“then let them present themselves to me, after this celebration.”

A faint chill swept across the hall.

“I will decide for myself.”