Standing in the ranks of the crowd, Xiao Yan looked up at the enormous pavilion that loomed before him and could not help shaking his head in wonder.
Set into the great building's massive plaque were three characters of an aged, antique air — "Dou Qi Pavilion." The board itself had yellowed with the years, and the grooves worn into its surface bore witness to the accumulated weight of time.
This pavilion was the most treasured stronghold of the Xiao clan: the Dou Qi Pavilion.
Every Dou Technique the clan had gathered over the course of several centuries rested within these walls, and those techniques were the very foundation upon which the clan's present standing rested. So long as this treasury of arts remained standing, the family would never lack the power to protect itself — and that, in turn, was why the elders guarded it with such jealous care.
As the single most important place in the clan, its defenses were extraordinarily severe. On ordinary days it was treated essentially as forbidden ground, and even members of the family were barred from entering on their own. Only after the coming-of-age ceremony was held could the doors be thrown open to the clan's young for a brief, prescribed time.
Narrowing his eyes, Xiao Yan swept his gaze across the dark corners scattered about the pavilion. His keen soul perception told him at once that every move any of them made was being watched in full by the guards hidden among the shadows. Neither a single flicker of movement nor the faintest ripple of breath escaped their silent, vigilant notice.
In the more secluded reaches of the building, Xiao Yan could also sense several faint but tremendously powerful auras lurking — the sort that belonged not to ordinary protectors, but to masters whose names could shake the clan. Their presence was subtle, folded away so deeply into the darkness that an ordinary Dou Warrior would pass them by unnoticed, but to a spirit as sharp as Xiao Yan's they rang out like the beat of a hidden drum. His own cultivation today had already convinced him of their caliber, and he knew better than to test the pavilion's patience. It was plain that the family set truly great store by the Dou Qi Pavilion.
He turned his head slightly and exchanged a glance with Xun'er. From each other's eyes they read the same glint of amusement — plainly, both of them had clearly perceived the defenses lying concealed all about them. Let the clan believe its young were too naïve to notice the watchers in the dark; these two were not so easily fooled.
...
"The rules for entering the Dou Qi Pavilion I have spoken of many times already, and I will not repeat them all at length now. In short: once you go in, everyone must be out within two hours! Moreover, each of you may take only one Dou Technique suited to your own elemental nature — no more. Should anyone attempt to spirit a technique away in secret, that person will be disqualified from obtaining a Dou Technique altogether. So you had best take heed!" Standing upon the high steps, Xiao Zhan swept a dignified gaze over the great crowd of young men and women below, his face set in stern earnestness.
"Yes!" The gathered youths answered in eager unison, their eyes burning with longing upon the huge pavilion. To obtain a fine Dou Technique was to give oneself an edge over one's peers from the very outset — and that had always been the thing the clan's members most wished for. The difference between a Yellow-grade skill and a Mysterious-grade skill was no small matter; it could decide how far one's path of cultivation stretched in the years to come.
True, one's standing in Dou Qi counted for much. Yet a man who wielded no techniques at all was like a fist without an arm behind it — strong in a shallow way, but able to strike home only at close range. A technique, by contrast, let that stored might leap forth at a word, turning the humblest accumulation of Dou Qi into a weapon that could decide the turn of a life-and-death struggle. Small wonder, then, that the eyes of every youth and maiden before the pavilion burned so hotly.
And with that, the hush that had hung over the yard shattered. Dozens of youths and maidens surged forward eagerly, shouldering one another aside in their haste, each determined to be the first through the gaping doors and to claim the most promising technique that awaited them within that hallowed hall.
Standing at the entrance, Xiao Yan watched the tide of bodies press past him. Nothing in his manner betrayed the least impatience, nor the excitement that gleamed in the eyes of his companions. He knew that the choice of technique was not merely a matter of speed — one had to match the method to one's own elemental nature, or the gains would turn to waste. Yet as he looked upon that ancient doorway, the faintest question stirred at the back of his mind: what kind of technique would the clan's treasury yield to him today?
"Since you all understand the rules, let us begin."
Xiao Zhan nodded with satisfaction and stepped back a pace, giving way to the stone pillar that stood before the pavilion's great doors. The pillar rose about a meter, its surface worn smooth by the touch of countless hands across the ages, and upon its crown sat the crystal sphere by whose glow each candidate's elemental nature had been laid bare. As he looked at it, a passing thought drifted through Xiao Zhan's mind — a notion of such absurdity that he could not help shaking his head at himself, quietly amused at the extravagance of his own fancies.
Even as he smiled at his own whimsy, Xiao Zhan did not notice that, the moment those words left his lips, Xun'er — who stood on the very threshold of stepping into the Dou Qi Pavilion — felt her slender form suddenly stiffen. The tender tips of her ears, without warning, flared a fiery, bewitching red, much as the crystal ball had done but a moment before.
In the shadows about the dais, the same crystal ball that had tested them all still sat upon its stand, its surface yet faintly aglow from the sensation that had just rippled through it. That sphere was no idle ornament; one by one, before entering, each youth had been made to touch it, so that the clan might read the elemental nature his Dou Qi carried and guide him to a technique that suited his blood. And in the depths of Xun'er's lowered gaze, her clear autumn-water eyes flickered with something no one had the leisure to see — a faint, fleeting trace of an emotion she herself was loath to name. As the young ones streamed into the Dou Qi Pavilion, one by one, only the swelling tide of eager footsteps filled the air, and no one marked the quiet flush that touched a girl's ears on the threshold.