Chapter 4 — The Caravan Beneath the White Banner
The sect caravan arrived before noon.
The sound came first — iron-rimmed wheels grinding over stone, disciplined footsteps, and the faint, steady hum of cultivated qi.
Ye Wuchen was seated beside the river when he felt it.
Not overwhelming.
Organized.
Measured.
He turned his head slightly.
Grandma Yu was hanging herbs nearby.
She frowned toward the road.
"That's not a merchant caravan," she muttered.
"No," Ye Wuchen replied calmly. "It is structured."
Moments later, villagers began gathering near the entrance of the settlement.
Dust rose along the road.
Three carriages painted in white lacquer rolled forward, followed by six disciples in matching pale robes.
On the largest carriage hung a banner.
A silver emblem of a crescent blade over flowing water.
Grandma Yu squinted.
"That's the Qinghe Sect."
Chen, the farmer, inhaled sharply.
"They only recruit once every three years."
Zhang Rui stepped forward, tension already visible in his posture.
"This is my chance," Zhang Rui said quietly.
---
The lead disciple stepped down from the carriage.
He was tall, stern, perhaps twenty-five years old.
His qi was stable, third-stage Qi Refinement nearing fourth.
He surveyed the village without arrogance.
But without warmth.
"We are Qinghe Sect disciples," he announced. "Those under twenty-five who wish to attempt the outer disciple trial may step forward."
Whispers spread instantly.
Excitement.
Fear.
Ambition.
Ye Wuchen remained seated by the river.
Grandma Yu glanced toward him.
"You're not moving?" she asked.
"Not yet," Ye Wuchen replied.
"Don't pretend you're not interested," she said sharply.
Ye Wuchen did not answer immediately.
He listened.
Not to the sect.
To the rhythm of events.
Opportunity had arrived.
But opportunity was not urgency.
---
Several young villagers stepped forward nervously.
Liang was among them.
Zhang Rui hesitated only briefly before joining.
The sect disciple raised his hand.
"Line up."
One by one, they were tested.
Palm placed against a small jade disc.
Qi resonance measured.
Some glowed faintly.
Some did not.
Two boys were dismissed immediately.
One girl burst into tears when the jade remained dark.
Zhang Rui stepped forward.
The jade disc pulsed weakly.
The lead disciple frowned.
"Second-stage Qi Refinement?"
"Yes," Zhang Rui answered quickly.
"Foundation unstable," the disciple replied bluntly.
Zhang Rui's face tightened.
"But—"
"You may attempt outer disciple evaluation," the disciple continued. "No guarantees."
Relief mixed with anxiety.
Zhang Rui nodded stiffly.
Then Liang stepped forward.
His qi barely registered.
The jade shimmered faintly.
The disciple paused.
"Natural channel alignment," he muttered.
Liang's face lit up.
"You are accepted for preliminary trial," the disciple said.
Liang nearly stumbled in gratitude.
---
The murmuring crowd thinned.
Grandma Yu turned back toward Ye Wuchen.
"Well?"
Ye Wuchen rose slowly.
His shoulder had mostly healed, but deep internal fractures remained.
He walked toward the testing area.
The lead disciple glanced at him briefly.
Then frowned.
"Blind?"
"Yes," Ye Wuchen answered calmly.
"You wish to attempt trial?" the disciple asked.
"Yes."
Murmurs rippled through the villagers.
Grandma Yu clenched her hands together.
The disciple studied Ye Wuchen's posture.
"You are injured," he observed.
"Recovering," Ye Wuchen replied.
"Extend your hand."
Ye Wuchen did so.
The jade disc was pressed against his palm.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then a faint pulse.
Weak.
But clean.
The disciple's brow furrowed.
"Your qi is thin," he said. "But stable."
"Yes," Ye Wuchen replied.
"Have you cultivated long?"
"No."
The disciple paused.
"Your breathing pattern is unusual."
"I listen to the river," Ye Wuchen answered.
The disciple did not understand the answer.
But the jade shimmered once more.
"You may attempt outer disciple trial," he said finally.
Grandma Yu let out a breath she had been holding.
---
As the caravan prepared to depart, villagers gathered to say hurried goodbyes.
Liang's mother wept openly.
Zhang Rui stood apart, staring toward the mountains.
Grandma Yu approached Ye Wuchen slowly.
"You're really going," she said.
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I do not know."
She folded her arms tightly.
"You could stay."
"I could," Ye Wuchen agreed.
"Then why leave?"
He paused.
Because stagnation is decay.
Because he could not rebuild properly in isolation.
Because he did not descend to hide.
He descended to live.
"There are things I must learn," Ye Wuchen said quietly.
Grandma Yu stared at him for a long moment.
"You don't talk like a young man."
"I am not inexperienced," Ye Wuchen replied.
She shook her head.
"You saved Zhang Rui."
"Yes."
"You helped Liang."
"Yes."
"And now you leave."
"Yes."
There was no accusation in her tone.
Only understanding.
She stepped closer.
Without asking, she adjusted the cloth wrapping around his shoulder.
"You'd better not die," Grandma Yu muttered.
"I will try not to," Ye Wuchen answered calmly.
Zhang Rui approached then.
His pride was thinner now.
"I'll reach third-stage," Zhang Rui said.
"You will," Ye Wuchen replied.
Zhang Rui hesitated.
"Don't forget this village."
"I will not," Ye Wuchen said.
That was not a promise made lightly.
---
The caravan began moving.
Wheels creaked.
Dust rose.
Ye Wuchen walked with steady steps beside Liang and Zhang Rui.
He did not look back.
Not because he did not care.
But because beginnings require forward motion.
As the village disappeared behind them, Liang whispered nervously, "Wuchen… are you afraid?"
"Yes," Ye Wuchen answered honestly.
Liang blinked.
"You are?"
"Yes."
"Of what?"
Ye Wuchen paused briefly.
"Wasting time."
Liang did not understand.
But Zhang Rui did.
He glanced at Ye Wuchen once, measuring him differently now.
The mountains loomed ahead.
White banners swaying in the wind.
A new rhythm awaited.
And somewhere far above—
Heaven remained silent.
For now.