The sun, a fiery painter in the sky, had already begun its descent, brushing the mist-shrouded peaks of the Mystic Peak Sect with hues of orange and deep violet. The outer sect, a sprawling collection of simple wooden huts and training grounds, was quieting down. New disciples, weary from their first day of orientations and the overwhelming influx of new information, were settling into their assigned, spartan dwellings.
Wang Jian, however, felt no weariness. Only a familiar, simmering anticipation.
'Princess Yue Lingshan… she must be feeling a bit lost. A pampered royal thrown into this rough-and-tumble outer sect life. Heh.'
He waited until the last vestiges of twilight faded into a moonless, star-dusted night. The outer sect was cloaked in shadows, the only lights being the faint glow from occasional lanterns and the distant, richer luminescence from the inner sect further up the mountain.
