Chapter 2 – Selection

The herald droned on, announcing new disciples joining sects, then additions to the government's official ranks, followed by those joining the scholarly pursuits. Finally, came the candidates for military positions.

Throughout this, Sher’s gaze, burning with indignation, flickered between her father and Old Wang.

Today was supposed to be the final stage of the selection, which she was supposed to join to the surprise of all and claim her place in one of the great sects.

Not only did the two old men conspire to change the selection process, but they even managed to conceal it from her! She should have paid more attention to the selection itself instead of spending the last few days reading up on the sects and whatever books authored by the Elders of said sects she found in the palace library. Her ire at Elder Kong rose, his subpar philosophy on Dao and cultivation had not only wasted her time but had also served as a distraction for her father’s schemes.

Right then and there, she decided she would not join the Qinglong sect even if the sect leader himself begged. Yet, there rose a slight worry she wouldn’t be joining any sect at all. It was quickly suppressed. Sher was a woman of action, not some passive flower to be foiled by such plots.

Her impatience grew with each name listed by the herald. Her gaze locked on his back, willing him to finish. Finally, when the herald paused—whether to draw breath or to transition to the next part of the ceremony did not matter—Sher took a few steps to the edge of the podium and interjected into his long speech.

“I, Song Sher, shall grace the Baihu Sect with my attendance.” She said steadily, a gentle but brilliant smile gracing her face. On the spur of the moment, she decided the mild-looking elder of Baihu seemed the most pliable, the easiest to push around.

The already quiet hall became utterly silent.

All eyes fixed on her, but she continued to stand with her back straight and head held high. Her gaze swept through the gathered crowd and finally rested on the representatives from the Baihu sect.

A bewildered expression crossed Disciple Li’s face. She took half a step forward, her voice sharp.

“Princess, although your standing is high among the mortals, the sects are beyond your—or even your father, the Emperor’s—ability to order. The selection is already over, and you did not attend. You did not prove your worth, nor your aptitude, nor your capabilities. And no exception such as allowing you to skip the trials shall be made.”

Sherenna met and held her eyes. She felt Li exerting spiritual pressure to make her back down. But she was too riled up to pretend to be affected.

As she was about to respond, abruptly she heard a voice from behind.

“Song Sher, my daughter, please return to your place for now, and we will discuss what happened in the evening.”

Her father’s voice, low and resonant, cut through the quiet, a command that brooked no objection. However, her attention was not on her father, but on the cultivators, who watched her with expressions ranging from mild interest to slight irritation. In Elder Feng’s eyes, she noticed a crafty look; it seemed at least he was aware she had withstood his disciple’s spiritual pressure.

“Emperor Song, as well as you, my dear disciple, what say you, we give our young princess a chance? A simple test, one to determine if she possesses a Spiritual Root with aptitude for our Baihu sect’s arts.

If she passes, let’s call it destiny; if she fails, we can be lenient toward a child’s outburst and forget it happened.”

Sher turned at last to face her father, a determined, yet demanding look on her face.

“See, Father? Even Elder Feng wants me to join his sect.”

Her father exchanged looks with Old Wang, who then spoke.

“First Princess, the path of cultivation is long and full of hardships, there will be hardly any luxury you are accustomed to, there will be no attendants to wait on you. In fact, there will be many times you are going to get hurt, you may even lose your life prematurely.”

Her gaze steady on the Emperor, Sher completely ignored Old Wang’s warnings.

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“I am asking you, Father, this is what I desire. I am cognizant of all this decision encompasses to an extent beyond what you or anyone else gathered here imagines.”

Song Jian looked into his daughter’s eyes, the playful capriciousness he knew was gone, and for a moment, the throne room vanished. He was no longer an Emperor but a speck of dust adrift in an abyss, and before him, countless golden threads stretching from infinity converged, weaving an impossibility he could never comprehend.

The moment passed and Song Jian looked away, his imposing stature, his authority as both father and emperor, his very intellect, all felt inadequate, hollow. He had been shaken by his own daughter, a truth he would never admit to anyone, not even to himself, after today passed.

He sighed and, trying not to show his agitation, he consented. “If that’s truly your desire, I shall acquiesce.” He then fell silent, not showing any discomfort outwardly, nor giving any explanation. He was the Emperor after all.

Old Wang, the herald, some of the assembled cultivators cast curious glances toward the Emperor, though did not dare ask his reasons.

Whispers rose among the gathered youths, at first tentative, then growing more lively. They were hushed when the herald cast his gaze at them and issued a sharp click of his tongue.

Silence was cast over the Grand Hall once again.

Elder Feng slowly walked towards the podium and with a gesture invited Sher to join him at its base.

Seemingly out of thin air a crystal chalice appeared in the Elder’s outstretched hand.

“Ah, young princess, I will have to bother you to provide a drop of your blood for the purpose of this test.” said the Elder and before he could summon any blade, a drop of blood landed in the chalice. With raised brow, he looked at the princess, who, meanwhile, returned a small dagger into her dress’s sleeve. She shrugged. The herald standing nearby sighed.

Sher observed as Elder Feng started infusing Qi into the goblet. She knew she had capabilities for cultivation. Even if her body had been born without, her Immortal Soul would have nourished a Spiritual Root by now. But she was still curious to see what she would be working with on her journey to Immortality this time.

There was no blazing inferno, no overflowing water. There was no electric current, and there were no sudden gusts of wind. There wasn’t even a dazzling light nor a spewing darkness. The chalice looked very mundane indeed.

Both Sher and Elder Feng leaned in to look inside the chalice. There, a single drop of blood displaced itself continuously. Vanishing and reappearing in different parts of the goblet. Suddenly, for a moment, there were two at the opposite sides. Then just one again, in the very middle.

The princess and the Elder looked up, their eyes meeting. On Elder Feng’s face a smile started to appear, a very hungry smile. A moment later his face was calm again and the Elder once again exuded an air of a mild elderly man.

Sher might have reflected on her earlier idea that the Elder was easy to push around, but she herself was too engrossed in the test’s result, already making adjustments to her plans, considering altogether new ones and reimagining the road ahead of her.

Meanwhile, for the first time since the ceremony started, Elder Feng bowed slightly towards the Emperor and said, “Emperor Song, the princess’s Spiritual Root is highly compatible with our sect, it seems it was indeed destiny for us to meet today. It is an honor for our sect to welcome Song Sher into our midst as a disciple.

We will be leaving the Empire and heading back home at dawn tomorrow. Princess,” and turning towards the gathered youths, he added, “Tang Jun, Fu Jin, Yuan Hao, I will expect all of you at the palace gates tomorrow.”

* * *

After the ceremony concluded, Sher chose to take a long route back to her chambers. Completely lost in thought, Sher strolled through the palace gardens, oblivious to everything and everyone around her.

Her lips curled into a bright smile. Her pace quickened, her listless stroll replaced by a new, purposeful stride as she changed direction.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Emperor’s private chambers Old Wang confronted the Emperor.

“Jian, my old friend, are you sure about your decision to let your daughter go?” Worry was clear in his voice. “You were quite convinced not to let her earlier. Why the change of heart?”

“You know that beneath her frivolous attitude, whenever she thought no one would notice, there were wisdom and insight beyond her years. I would like to say that is the reason and that I trust her decision. Truth be told, I was glad Sher was my heiress and with her maturing the future of my empire would be bright.” Song Jian frowned, trying to find the correct words. “But that’s not it. Not at all. Quite the opposite, that was more the reason I wanted to keep her here.

It is just… there was something in her eyes when she faced me during the ceremony. I can’t quite put it in words, but I understood then, the decision wasn’t mine to make. Maybe it was the destiny the Elder of Baihu so casually mentioned?

It certainly did feel so, like trying to avert a raging current with just my own two hands.”

Both men fell silent. Old Wang reached for the Emperor’s glass and then poured wine into both their glasses.

Handing the glass back to his friend, Old Wang started saying. “Well, if you put it like that...”

He was interrupted as the doors suddenly opened, and a head with a shock of auburn hair peered inside. Then, the rest of First Princess followed as she stepped inside.

“Hello Father, Old Wang, why are you two old men huddled up here?

Have you forgotten that I am leaving tomorrow? You should take this opportunity to pamper me… I mean, spend time with me, while you still have a chance.”

Sher skittered closer, grabbing a chair along the way.

“Is the wine any good? Oh, I already told a guard to let dear sister know that we’re drinking here, and she should join us.”

The Emperor and his friend and advisor exchanged looks, worries and exasperation mixed in their eyes.

Finally, Old Wang grabbed another glass, and, pouring the wine, asked. “So, what spurred this completely unexpected decision of yours, my niece?”