The GATHERING STORM
1351 Words
Return to Azure Sky Academy
The academy grounds hummed with restless energy.
After five days of break, disciples streamed back through the gates, eager whispers filling the air. Some returned stronger, others desperate to prove themselves. But everyone had one thing on their minds—the Moon Tournament.
The registration had begun.
At the center of the academy’s main courtyard, a long jade table stood beneath a grand pavilion. Several instructors sat behind it, recording names onto scrolls.
One by one, students stepped forward, some brimming with confidence, others hesitating at the last moment.
—
A group of students stood frozen in place, their gazes locked on a single figure near the registration table.
Tian Hui, heir to the Tian Family, leaned casually against a pillar, his white robes pristine despite the dust swirling around. He didn’t even glance at the disciple kneeling before him, blood dripping from his split lip.
“If you can’t handle a little pressure,” Tian Hui drawled, adjusting the golden fan in his hand, “then why bother registering?”
The fallen disciple trembled, but no one stepped forward to help.
Everyone knew better than to cross Tian Hui.
From the other side of the courtyard, another presence arrived.
Su Cheng, heir of the Su Family, watched the scene unfold with a smirk. His dark green robes bore the insignia of the Su clan—earthly might embodied. Unlike Tian Hui’s cold arrogance, Su Cheng thrived in chaos.
“Still playing gatekeeper, Tian Hui?” he mused, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Afraid someone might steal your spotlight?”
Tian Hui finally looked up, his golden eyes sharp. “I simply dislike insects taking up space.”
Su Cheng chuckled. “Then what do you think of me? A storm or an earthquake?”
Tian Hui didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The air between them crackled with unspoken challenge.
The tension was shattered by a soft, melodic laugh.
Everyone turned.
From the entrance of the courtyard, a figure in silver-blue robes stepped forward.
Bai Wei.
Heir to the Bai Family, wielder of the f*******n Blood Qi.
Though the use of Blood Qi was outlawed, whispers claimed the Bai Family had found ways around the rules. Bai Wei, with his unnerving grace and ever-present smile, was living proof of those rumors.
He strode past the crowd, pausing only to glance at the injured disciple still on his knees. With a flick of his sleeve, a small red pill landed at the boy’s feet.
“A gift,” Bai Wei murmured. “No need for gratitude.”
Tian Hui and Su Cheng tensed as he walked between them.
The Bai Family had always been the unpredictable variable.
Followed closely behind him was a petite figure.
Bai Ruoxi.
Bai Wei's younger sister, the most doted on in the Bai family.
Dressed in a flowing pink gown, she moved with an innocent, almost delicate grace, her every step measured and refined. Her soft features and wide, curious eyes made her appear harmless—like a fragile bird fluttering among beasts.
But everyone knew better.
Not because of her own prowess, but because of Bai Wei.
Rumor had it that the last man who sought to take advantage of her didn’t even know how he died.
Seemingly unbothered by the commotion, Bai Ruoxi’s gaze swept across the courtyard, searching.
Not here yet.
With a barely concealed sigh, she reluctantly followed her brother to the side after registering.
And then—
A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, and silence fell.
A new figure had arrived.
Lan Yurong.
Unlike the others, she did not exude overwhelming power or intimidation. Instead, she carried herself with quiet grace, her lavender robes swaying with each step.
But those who underestimated her knew better now. She wasn’t here to play games.
She was here to win.
And she wanted everyone to know it.
—
Lan Xian Xian arrived.
But as she stepped forward to register, she felt a dozen eyes shift toward her.
She was effortlessly captivating—ink-black hair flowing like silk, deep, unreadable eyes framed by long dark lashes. Her smooth, luminous skin needed no adornment, and her full lips held the hint of a secret smile. With a sculpted yet graceful figure, she moved with quiet confidence, never seeking attention, yet commanding it with every step.
Lan Yurong’s eyes darkened. No matter how much effort she put in, she had always been outshone in almost everything.
Lan Yurong’s voice rang out just as Xian Xian reached the table.
“Ah, sister. I didn’t know you’d be registering.”
Xian Xian chuckled. Of course you did.
Lan Yurong’s smile was all sweetness, but her tone held the sharpness of a hidden dagger. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Xian Xian arched a brow. “You? Protect me? Are we fighting in pairs?”
Lan Yurong blinked, caught off guard. “…No.”
“Then why do I need your protection? Oh, wait.” Xian Xian tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Could it be… you’re afraid I’ll embarrass you?”
A few students chuckled. Others whispered.
Lan Yurong’s smile tightened. “You joke too much, sister.”
Xian Xian simply picked up the brush and signed her name without hesitation.
Then, she met Lan Yurong’s gaze and smiled.
Lan Yurong’s smile faltered—just for a moment.
Xian Xian turned, heading toward the corner where Bai Ruoxi waved eagerly.
Bai Ruoxi beamed, tugging her closer as soon as she reached. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”
Xian Xian smirked. “What, and leave you alone in this nest of vultures?”
Bai Ruoxi giggled. “I can handle vultures. It’s my dear elder brother I can’t escape from.”
Across the courtyard, Bai Wei lifted an elegant brow at them before returning his attention to the crowd.
“See?” Bai Ruoxi huffed. “Always watching. I might as well be shackled to his side.”
Xian Xian chuckled. “That doesn’t sound too bad. At least you’ll always be safe.”
Bai Ruoxi rolled her eyes. “Safe? I’d rather be free.”
—
As the final names were recorded, the head instructor exhaled, rolling up the scroll. “That will conclude the registra—”
A sudden shift in the air.
The instructor’s words trailed off as a figure strode into the courtyard.
A hooded figure.
Unlike the heirs who arrived with fanfare, this one moved with quiet confidence, neither hesitant nor boastful. The long, dark cloak concealed everything but his strong, gloved hands and the steady, deliberate way he walked. There was no distinct aura, no overwhelming presence—yet the weight of his steps demanded attention.
The murmurs started.
“Who’s that?”
“Another disciple?”
“I’ve never seen him before…”
The hooded figure ignored them all.
Reaching the registration table, he picked up the brush—not with hesitation, but with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Ink met paper in fluid strokes, each character written with effortless precision.
Lan Xian Xian, still standing nearby, narrowed her eyes slightly.
Something about him felt…off.
Not in the way of a threat, but like a puzzle missing a piece.
As if sensing her gaze, the hooded figure paused. Then, ever so slowly, he turned his head in her direction.
A smirk—subtle, fleeting—curved his lips beneath the shadow of his hood.
Lan Xian Xian’s eyes sharpened.
Interesting.
Without another word, he turned and melted back into the crowd, taking his place among the other registrants as though he had never stood out at all.
Yet, the weight of his presence lingered.
The head instructor, regaining his composure, cleared his throat. “Registration is now officially closed. All participants are expected to report at cockcrow for the trial. Dismissed!”
As the students began dispersing, Lan Xian Xian cast one last glance at the hooded figure.
Something told her this tournament was about to get a lot more interesting.
- Writer
