While they had been checking the scroll, the room had filled with cultivators who started to drag away the angry contestants who refused to leave. Li Xiulan finally noticed them, eyes widening.

“Wait, are these cultivators from the White Snake sect?” she asked Song Fen, who nodded in return.

“Yeah. T...t-hey watch over the contest every year,” she explained. “Since this is our city, and all. Sometimes contestants get… violent.”

Li Xiulan found herself watching the cultivators. They had a certain grace in how they carried themselves that the average person lacked. Their robes flowed gently even as they dragged people by the collar kicking and screaming. Not a single hair was out of place. 

So how on earth is that ugly Hou Jin the son of the sect leader? What a disgrace to the sect, she thought.

Song Fen also watched the cultivators as they worked. Li Xiulan looked over and noticed that the pride in her eyes had dimmed. Was Song Fen… nervous?

“It must be nice to have people to train with,” Li Xiulan said, testing the waters. Song Fen shrugged.

“You would t…t-hink so,” she replied. She looked off in the distance, her eyes meeting the peak of the Pavilion that was visible over the wall of the testing hall. “But, uh, nobody really cares for me that much. I’m alone, most of the time.”

Li Xiulan wished she could be shocked by that, but with the way Song Fen had introduced herself earlier, she had already known. It was a sad thing, though, for someone so sweet to have nobody.

“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” Li Xiulan said. “By any chance… does that have anything to do with what Hou Jin mentioned?”

Song Fen paled. “Yes… yes. My brother… he recommended me to the sect. That’s the only reason I was accepted.” Her eyes flicked among the cultivators still present in the room. Most of them were surrounding Hou Jin, and occasionally their eyes met hers. They looked away. “T…t-hey don’t like it. As you can see.”

Li Xiulan frowned. “But if the sect accepted you, you must have had a good amount of power, right? They wouldn’t accept some random nobody just because their brother said so.”

“Mmm… yeah, I had some power,” Song Fen started, uncertain. “But it was probably… much lower t...t-han most. And there’s also…” she gestured at her face. “My s… my words.”

“What, really?” Li Xiulan asked, met with a nod from Song Fen. Li Xiulan crossed her arms. “I would have thought… well, I don’t know, I kinda thought they’d care more about power than anything else.”

Song Fen sighed. “It would be alright… if I could just talk to them,” she muttered. “T...t-hey think I’m weak because I don’t show my power… and they think I have no knowledge because I don’t speak.”

Her eyes suddenly widened and she covered her mouth, glancing over to Li Xiulan. 

“I- I’m sorry, I’ve said t...t-oo much, haven’t I? I’m so sorry…” She trailed off before bowing to Li Xiulan. “Congratulations again… I’ll see you t...t-omorrow, hopefully.”

Before Li Xiulan could say a single word, Song Fen bounded off, practically tripping over her own feet to get away.  Li Xiulan rubbed the back of her head, wondering if she had pushed too much. 

Is she… mad at me?

The thought made Li Xiulan’s blood run cold. She couldn’t have already lost the first friend she had managed to make! She resolved herself to apologize the next time she and Song Fen crossed paths.

Glancing around, it seemed like the remaining White Snake cultivators had taken their leave. There were only a few scholars left roaming the room, clearly the ones who had made it through to the second round. Hou Jin was nowhere to be found.

“Ah… alone again, I guess,” Li Xiulan lamented. But, then again, that’s what I’m used to. Might as well take the opportunity to look around.

Right as she turned to leave, a man cleared his throat. It was the same man who had announced the rules earlier. Li Xiulan, despite her desire to wander, turned to listen.

“Please make your way to the west hall and find the room labeled with your seating number. You will find both the key and a set of clothes inside. These are the clothes you are expected to wear for the remainder of the competition. You will be woken up at dawn tomorrow morning for breakfast. Be prepared to start the first round afterwards.”

Li Xiulan hummed in acknowledgement. She had hoped for something a little more exciting, and so hardly listened. Once the announcer had finished and left the room, Li Xiulan began to move.

Li Xiulan exited the result room, walking down the long hallway that had taken her there. She and Song Fen had come by in such a rush that she hardly remembered the way. Or, well, Song Fen had been trying to take it slow to accommodate Li Xiulan’s injuries and Li Xiulan had done everything she could to make her rush. One way or another, she hadn’t been paying attention, and she quickly realized that as she was faced with all the doors in the hallway.

There was the one they had gone through before that led to an empty classroom: probably not a door she needed to remember. There was another that led to a large banquet hall, another to a library, and another to a long hallway with more doors. Perhaps the rooms? she wondered.

After a few more wrong turns, she made it back to the waiting room where she and Song Fen had been before. She let out a sigh of relief.

“This place needs a map posted at every corner,” she muttered to herself, leaning against the wall. “It’s like a maze in here.”

In the excitement of seeing the results, she had completely forgotten that weird feeling that had come over her before. Now that she was alone, however, the happy buzzing in her ears receded, and she was once again reminded of the silence.

The moon was out. It was a lovely night outside, and yet there wasn’t a creature to be seen. Li Xiulan was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to slide the doors shut and close the room off from the courtyard. But something else was present, weighing down heavily on her lungs like a person sitting on her chest. She wanted to move, but she couldn’t; the two impulses collided in her brain ferociously.

Her stomach grumbled.

Li Xiulan blinked, laying a hand over her stomach. Shooting pain suddenly bloomed there, and she was reminded that she had never eaten that night.

“Why… did I come here?” she said, head suddenly much clearer. She was supposed to go find her room, wasn’t she? What on earth had possessed her to come back here? 

I must be hungrier than I thought, she reasoned. The lack of food was probably making her delusional after all that exertion from earlier. She swallowed down her feelings of unease and left the room as soon as possible, heading for the door that she had seen earlier.

She found the hall easily now that her senses had returned to her. She hurried down the hall, looking at every door to find the one labeled with her number. As she searched for her number, she kept an eye out for Song Fen, just in case she happened to be around. Unfortunately, there was no sign of her. Although Li Xiulan felt a little dejected, she wasted no time in opening the door and sliding into her room once she found it, closing the door soundly behind her.

The room was small but neat. A small wooden bed sat in the far left corner with a writing desk beside it and there was a small cubby where books could be kept. A small window offered a view to an internal stone garden, although it was too dark to see much of it at this time of night. Other than that, the room was bare.

On the floor was a folded set of clothes and a room key, as expected. However, next to the clothes was a silver plate filled with bread and fruit. Li Xiulan moved closer to inspect it, finding a small slip of paper tucked underneath the plate.

“Sorry- the main courses were all gone. Hope this is enough. Rest well!”

Li Xiulan’s stomach growled before she even had the time to smile. She laughed, grabbing a piece of bread. She started to nibble on it as she considered looking around for Song Fen’s room. However, as she reached for the door she was reminded of the eerie feeling she had gotten before.

She pulled her hand back with a sigh. It’s nighttime anyway. I shouldn’t bother her, she thought as she sat down to finish the rest of her food. There was something about the fact that Song Fen kept her promise to bring her dinner that made Li Xiulan overwhelmingly happy.

It felt like, for once, she wasn’t an outcast.

She laid down on the bed, chewing the last remaining piece of bread. She thought back to today’s competition.

I really wasn't prepared. I can’t believe I made it through.

The piece she had written hadn’t been good conceptually. Even she could acknowledge that. Most likely, she had only moved through because her grammar had been nearly flawless. If she was to move on to the next round, though, she would have to do better.

She turned over on her side, running through all the books she had studied in her head. If she was to win, she would have to recall the information perfectly, write perfectly, and -- perhaps most importantly -- be able to think perfectly. Her hesitation in today’s round could have cost her the whole competition. The same thing couldn’t happen again.

Li Xiulan placed a hand on her stomach, feeling a small rush of pain. Another instance of her failure to think. Could she really expect to win when she was injured?

She closed her eyes.

I’ll just have to hope Song Fen’s spiritual energy is enough to save me before tomorrow. Otherwise…

She pulled her knees closer to her chest.

That’s enough. What will be will be.

For a brief moment, her thoughts turned to her father. Her mother had tried to get her to pray to him before she left, but Li Xiulan had ignored her. She didn’t really care that her father was a martial god; if she believed he would help, she would have prayed to him anyway. But she had long since lost confidence in him. A father who never appeared was hardly someone you would turn to for help, right?

Despite knowing that praying to her father would do nothing, Li Xiulan found herself kneeling before the tiny window, pretending it was the shrine back home. She had no incense to burn and nothing to offer, but all the same, she clapped her hands together and sent a prayer to the heavens.

Father, please grant me clarity of mind for tomorrow. You are a martial god, so that may be in your realm of expertise, right? I’m not asking for knowledge, just for focus.

After a long moment of silence, she opened her eyes. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, pulling herself back onto the bed. “He’s not going to answer one way or another.”

Li Xiulan laid down once more. After all, she was the only one who could control whether she succeeded or not, and sleep was important. 

Maybe it was just the pain in her body or the mental exhaustion. Or, maybe, when her racing mind finally slowed down, it was aided by the gentle brush of a distant hand.