The crowd parted as the twins took the stage. They moved as one, a fluid display of practiced synergy.
Yuan landed first. Sixteen, with a sharp, angular face and eyes that swept the crowd like a merchant assessing goods. His energy was a visible, restless shimmer in the air around him—a Second Wheel (Shidow) cultivator, power coiled for manipulation.
Yan landed a half-step behind. Fifteen, with a softer, more open expression. He offered a small, formal bow toward the center of the stage before settling into his stance. His aura was a calm, deep well of light—a First Wheel (Jingdao) cultivator of startling purity. He looked at his brother not as an equal, but with unwavering, quiet devotion.
"So," Yuan drawled, his voice laced with a lazy arrogance that didn't reach his hungry eyes. "The fallen prince and his anchor. We've heard the whispers from the mountain. Pity they all stop at the father."
Yan's brow furrowed slightly. "Brother, that is discourteous. They are our opponents, honored by the arena." He clasped his fists toward Gen and Liang. "I am Yan. This is my brother, Yuan. We will offer our best. Please, guide us."
The contrast was stark. Yuan's ambition was a naked blade. Yan's deference was a polished mirror, reflecting only what he was told to see.
Gen, ignoring the sting of his unhealed chest wound, leapt onto the stage, a fierce grin on his face. "Talk's cheap. Let's see if your fists are as flashy as your mouth." Liang climbed up more deliberately, his expression not confident, but resolved, a faint silver sheen already flickering in his pupils—the nascent Master's Eyes at work.
As they took positions, Liang leaned close. "Master's Eyes," he whispered, the words tight. "Yan is First Wheel. Jingdao. But it's… unbelievably dense. Like forged steel, not just reinforced wood. Yuan is Second Wheel, Shidow. His energy is everywhere, waiting to twist the field. They're both stronger than anyone we faced at the monastery."
Gen's grin only widened. "Perfect."
The air crackled. The crowd's earlier mockery had melted into avid curiosity. All eyes were on the son of the legend, measuring the ghost against the living memory.
From the sidelines, Madame Su watched, her hands still but her senses extended. Li Fen moved to stand beside her, an island of cool jade amidst the simmering excitement.
"You do not seem concerned," Li Fen observed.
"They are called the 'Unmatched Twins' of the outer court for a reason," Li Fen said, her gaze analytical. "Yan, on his first day, defeated a complacent inner disciple in a contest of pure reinforcement. His foundation is… freakish. Yuan may lack that purity, but he is viciously clever. He has held his own against the top ten inner disciples through cunning manipulation and underhanded tactics. They are a perfect, dangerous complement. Your boys are theoretically outmatched."
Madame Su allowed a ghost of a smile. "Gen is arrogant. But he has earned the right to that arrogance. And Liang… he has been searching for solid ground. Today, he may find it under the pressure of a mountain."
Before Li Fen could respond, a shadow fell over them. Elder Kwan stood there, his broken-nosed face split by a greasy smirk. "A touching display of faith, Madame. But faith doesn't fill stomachs or pay fees. Since you're so sure of your… charges… why not make it interesting? A wager."
Madame Su did not look at him. "I am not here to gamble."
"No?" he purred, his voice dropping. "Not even to prove your trust in them? Or is it just empty words, and you know they're doomed?"
Her spine straightened. She finally turned her head, meeting his gaze. The insinuation was a poison, but the challenge to her belief in Gen and Liang was a spark to tinder. "What is your wager?"
"If your two win," he said, loud enough for nearby spectators to hear, "I will grant you a boon of five hundred Milky Stones. A princely sum to start a new life." The crowd murmured. It was a fortune.
"And if they lose?" Madame Su's voice was ice.
Elder Kwan's eyes traveled over her with vulgar slowness, his meaning horrifyingly clear without a word spoken. He smiled. The surrounding cultivators caught the look. Some leered, others looked away in discomfort. The bet wasn't about stones; it was about humiliation and possession.
A wave of pure disgust washed through Madame Su. But beneath it, a colder, more strategic thought emerged. This man thinks Gen is a broken toy. He thinks Liang is nothing. A public victory here, against his favored disciples, with this stakes… it wouldn't just win entry. It would make a statement. It would give Gen a name that isn't just 'the Immortal's son.' It would be his first.
She saw the trap of pride. She saw the risk. But she also saw the opportunity to forge their first real legend in this new, cynical world.
"I accept," she said, her voice ringing clear. A gasp went up. "But with a condition. You will not interfere in the fight. No 'accidental' disruptions, no skewed rulings. You will let the arena decide, cleanly."
Elder Kwan's smirk became a triumphant grin. He raised his hand, his voice booming with false solemnity. "By my vow as an elder of the Jade Palace, I shall adjudicate with perfect neutrality! Let the heavens and the crowd witness!"
The deal was sealed. The murmurs exploded into excited chatter.
"She did it for the stones? She's desperate," one merchant muttered.
"No,you fool," a grizzled older cultivator countered, watching Madame Su's unwavering profile. "Look at her. She didn't even flinch at his look. She took the bet to put their victory on a pedestal. She's forcing the world to look at those boys, not through pity, but through the lens of a wager they can't ignore."
"It's reckless!"
"It's brilliant.Or it's a tragedy. Now we have to watch."
On the stage, unaware of the specific stakes but feeling the electric shift in the crowd's attention, the four combatants felt the weight settle. This was no longer just an entrance exam. It was a proclamation.
Gen's body began to glow with a fierce, hungry gold. Liang's breathing steadied, his focus narrowing to the twin auras before him—the deep, placid well of Yan's Jingdao and the restless, grasping tendrils of Yuan's Shidow.
The head judge, a different elder now wary of the spotlight, raised his hand.
"BEGIN!"