It was actually quite fun to watch Avyr bumble around trying to make sure he didn’t destroy anything on accident. He’d adjust soon enough, Mingtian was sure, but… he smiled. The way that newly-advanced cultivators tended to fumble around and totally misjudge their own strength whenever they weren’t focusing on it. Old instincts, new body… always a recipe for fun times. He remembered the last time he’d advanced… he’d torn a hole in the side of the universe he’d been in at the time and destroyed a few galaxies before he’d realized he needed to adjust his power down even lower than he’d thought he would.

He leaned forward against the lip of the roof, the whirr of the library’s air conditioning ever spinning round and round behind him as he looked out at the Spring Festival parade. It was lively— the park was totally packed, as was the street on either side, a huge profundity of people… and, of course, Avyr was smack dab in the middle of it. It was just funny.

He didn’t react when someone stepped onto the roof beside him, because a mortal shouldn’t have known she was even there. But when she spoke, he expected it. “He advanced, then.” Zhihu spoke softly as she materialized beside him, staring out at the festival processions below. “A powerful advancement too. The sect will be proud to have him.”

“It’s only the start of his long path.”

“You think he’ll be able to walk it all the way?”

Mingtian just nodded. Enigmatically, like all proper hidden masters should. “He has the opportunity to. Whether luck and will confluence to make it so remains up to the heavens to know.” In many parts of the Heavenly realm, immortality was easy, though that was more because of the sheer amount of resources available to them than anything else.

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“In some senses, everyone

has the chance to ascend to immortality… but I gather that’s not what you mean. He is a remarkably powerful young cultivator, and with a talented friend like Lily… perhaps you’re right in that they’ll be able to go the distance.” It was just musings, but Mingtian got the distinct impression that she wasn’t really talking about them. Rather, up here on the roof of a random building instead of back at the Bloody Saffron Sect celebrating a true festival with her sect-mates… clearly, she was there for him. Probing.

It was a shame then that she’d get nothing out of him. At least not this time. “I can only do what I can and hope that everything turns out for the best. I’m only human, after all.” That was technically true, even if, in some regards, he was more radiance than human.

Zhihu was silent for a long moment. “That’s the point of a sect.” Then a second later— “and the point of a master, too, to their disciples— to raise them up and bequeath upon them the burden of the great tradition.”

“I’m not their Master.” He wasn’t. He didn’t care what everyone else might think, or what it looked like— there were certain rituals and proper techniques one had to observe when taking a true disciple, and he hadn’t followed them. Teacher and student, sure, but not master and disciple.

He wondered who he was even trying to convince at this point.