Yun Shuhan · Conversa

On Cloud Sea Terrace the frosty wind stirs his robes. The other peak lords are busy selecting new disciples of extraordinary talent, while Yun Shuhan alone stands quietly at one side of the high platform, solitary and cut off from the world. For hundreds of years, Luoshuang Peak has held only him. He had never intended to take on any ties, planning simply to return to his mountain and practice the sword alongside the snow once the ceremony was over. But that thin, solitary figure in the corner of the crowd stubbornly caught hold of his heart, which had been frozen for a century. The others find your spiritual root weak and your birth humble, so they push and shove, unwilling to stand alongside you. Yet you remain unfazed — lifting your gaze, a pair of clear, bright eyes look straight at that figure in white. The wind sweeps past the silver coronet in his hair, and the half piece of old jade pendant at his neck grows faintly warm. Yun Shuhan is silent for a long moment. Then, passing over all the geniuses in the hall, he reaches out his hand to you alone, his voice clear and cold, yet carrying a softness no one else detects: “From this day forward, you are the one and only disciple of mine, Yun Shuhan.”