Yuan Xia awoke when the Sun tossed its first ray over the horizon. He hadn’t experienced such peace in a long while—not even in his last life.

Well, as the Demon Lord, he didn’t really have a life.

Now when Yuan Xia thought back, he pitied himself. His life in the Demonic Faction consisted of catering to the Demon Queen and living in a dark room, which he now felt stifled just thinking about. He knew many faces within the faction, but had just one friend….

But now, for some reason, that old friend had begun to despise him.

Turning onto his side, Yuan Xia noticed a large bulge under the other bed. Contrary to his extroverted nature, Shuang didn’t snore, so the room felt much quieter than Yuan Xia expected.

Hauling himself up, Yuan Xia carefully slid over the edge of his bed and landed shakily on his feet. Careful not to wake his roommate, he snuck to the bathroom, where he first washed up before putting on an outing robe.

Before Hua ChunMing left, he had left a bundle of cultivation manuals scattered across the dorm. Yuan Xia treaded with caution, wondering what they were for.

Tiptoeing to the door, Yuan Xia propped it ajar, feeling the cool breeze against his warm face. Living so high atop Heaven’s Law Sect’s tree came with its advantages—now, if only he could enjoy sight alongside the sensations. But that wasn’t possible.

Instead, he put on his Dark Clouds, blocking the Sun from irritating his eyes. Listening for footsteps, Yuan Xia confirmed that there was no one loitering by the inner disciple dorms. All was still, so he took a step outside.

Except, because he couldn’t see very well, Yuan Xia stepped on something ragged and tumbled face-first into a tuft of cloud.

When Yuan Xia turned back, terrified at whatever he had just stepped on, he found a strange yellow stick lying horizontally on the clouds. He poked at it with his toe, then inched closer to inspect.

His eyes widened.

A sunbrella. Créme-coloured with ornaments of Easter Lilies…. Just like the one Yuan Xia had lost at the Battle of Snow Valley. When he fell off the peak with his sunbrella in hand, he thought he’d never see it again.

Was this Hua ChunMing’s handiwork? What did he mean by placing a sunbrella here?

“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning.” Shuang rubbed his eyes as he ambled onto the clouds. “You got an umbrella? Oh, come on, I only have this strange brush.”

He reached into the folds of his green robes, pulling out a large calligraphy brush with a jade and turquoise handle.

Yuan Xia reached out, tracing the designs.

Then gasped.

Wasn’t this the legendary Brush of Changing Springs that could open new worlds and paint different realities with just one stroke? The one that belonged to a distant immortal…. What was his name again? Anyways—Yuan Xia couldn’t remember—so why did Shuang have it?

“It’s quite a pretty brush…” Shuang yawned.

In his haziness,the boy tripped on his own foot and fell forwards. The Brush of Changing Springs fell from his hands, doomed to shatter on Heaven’s Law Sect’s tree branches.

Both Shuang and Yuan Xia felt as if time had slowed.

Then, Shuang spun, grabbing the brush out of the air in one clean, swift motion.

Both inner disciples sighed in relief. The brush had no scratches, looking brand-new. At least neither of them had to worry about the legal consequences of destroying the legendary possession of an immortal. Shuang managed to look more concerned than Yuan Xia as he cradled the calligraphy brush’s tail.

As they each sorted out their worries, a paper fell from the sky. It descended softly, like a feather, landing in Yuan Xia’s outstretched hand.

Yuan Xia took one look before his face blanched.

He couldn’t tell if his lack of understanding stemmed from his blindness or Hua ChunMing’s handwriting. Pushing the paper out towards Shuang, Yuan Xia watched as the chubby boy’s face changed colours as well.

“Yuan Xia….. I can’t read this.” Paralyzed, Shuang turned his head towards Yuan Xia.

Yuan Xia shrugged his shoulders—he couldn’t help at all.

Disheartened, Little Shuang pretended to draw lines over Hua ChunMing’s writing. Who knew that, with just two strokes of the Brush of Changing Springs, Hua ChunMing’s chicken-scratch handwriting would float into the air and transform into readable words?

Now even Yuan Xia could barely make out what Hua ChunMing meant to write.

As your first step into the cultivation world,

I present two manuals.

Learn them before the Trial of Intent

And show your worth.

Yuan Xia and Little Shuang exchanged a glance.

The Trial of Intent? What sort of event was that?

Of course, Yuan Xia had no idea. Throughout his past life, he’d never heard about the Orthodox Sects from Hua ChunMing at all.

Yuan Xia thought about the Demonic Faction. Even if they had events, the Demon Queen never informed him, and Yuan Xia could never participate. He lived in the darkness, knowing only himself. On one hand, he didn’t have to suffer under the Sun, but on the other….

Yuan Xia pitied himself once again.

“I think I’ve heard about the Trial of Intent before.” Shuang tapped Yuan Xia on the shoulder, shaking him from thoughts. “It’s meant for beginner, ahem, cultivators like us.”

He coughed a couple more times.

Yuan Xia wondered if the morning air felt too chilly for Shuang. He nodded and reached out for Shuang’s hand, pointing back to the dorm.

“You want to go back?” Shuang supported Yuan Xia, pulling him along step by step.

Yuan Xia shook his head, then paused, then nodded.

—

Picking one of Hua ChunMing’s scattered scrolls up, Yuan Xia finally understood what it was for. The Trial of Intent, some sort of new-disciple-event, most likely required some form of understanding from the disciples. If Hua ChunMing had left these scrolls with his inner disciples, then he must have wanted them to read and cultivate on their own.

Yuan Xia wondered what he could learn. He opened the scroll and did a double-take.

More importantly… how could he learn? Yuan Xia was blind! Was this Hua ChunMing’s idea of a declaration of war?

Expression dropping by the second, Yuan Xia tossed his manual onto his desk and plopped down on the floor.

Noticing Yuan Xia’s dilemma, Shuang knelt next to him, holding back a chuckle… which, in the end, Yuan Xia could still hear.

“I’m sure Righteous Leader Hua has a plan. He wouldn’t just leave you with a paper you can’t read, right?” Shuang reached for the scroll and unfurled it.

He stared long and hard at the characters on the manual. A minute passed, then two.

“It’s… in Hua ChunMing’s handwriting.”