“You actually have the audacity to stop us?” Che Fang asked with remnant shock from his time as a Young Master.

Immediately the guards seemed to realize their mistake, hurriedly bowing in an overly groveling manner.

“Please have mercy on these foolish mortals!” one of the men said hoarsely. “We have standing orders from the Misty Cradle Sect to prevent all attempts to enter or exit the village on account of the strange mist.”

As the villager said this, his eyes stole a glance at the sun that shone down on them from the eastern gate; in the distance one could still see the mist enveloping the Misty Cradle from the other three cardinal directions.

“We are responsible for dissipating the mist.” Tai Yang grunted as he pushed past the guard with a grunt. “Let us through.”

No further arguments were forthcoming, so the four disciples made their way to a local barber to reestablish their image as immortals.

Curious glances followed them through streets strangely devoid of other disciples from hollowed out eye sockets.

The small mortal settlement’s population made no move to intercept the returned disciples, nor go about their daily tasks. Instead, most people stood basking in the thin sunlight that broke through from the east.

Soon enough the muddy streets gave way to the village’s sole cobbled road. Dotting each side of the roadway were the best services and shops the Misty Cradle had to offer, strategically stationed to entrap disciples that descended into the valley.

One such establishment was run by a man the disciples affectionately knew as Old Xian. The barber was happy to oblige their request for his services after admitting that business was slow. Apparently all the disciples had been confined to the sect immediately after their group’s departure.

Gnarled fingers and rudimentary tools danced around each disciple in turn, leaving Zhao smiling as he ran his fingers against a bald fade. Initially Old Xian hadn’t been familiar with the style, but the man had quickly picked it up after Zhao’s instruction months ago.

Standing in proud contrast was Tai Yang’s hairless dome, an uncomplicated expression of the battle maniac’s stance on life.

When Gu Hong prodded him about the choice Tai Yang was only too happy to inform the youth that, “Hair is a liability in battle. I have it on good authority that it's much easier to slit someone’s throat when you use their hair as leverage.”

When the boy collapsed in on himself, Tai Yang seemed to realize the unintended impact of his words. “Oh… I didn’t mean to… I apologize.”

Zhao sighed and wrapped their youngest brother in a side hug. Though it didn’t stop tears from forming, the action seemed to dam their descent.

Gu Hong quietly twiddled at his hair after that exchange, his wilder locks contained enough that they only curled to his shoulders.

Their final member emerged with a suave slicked back style. Together with the shaving of Che Fang’s peach fuzz and his recovering cultivation, he was slowly regaining the aura of a wealthy scion.

Adequately prepared for their arrival, the group traversed the remainder of the cobbled pathway directly up to the sect’s torii only to find themselves stopped and detained.

The gaggle of enforcement disciples on duty went from depicting a blend of boredom and minor interest directed towards the eastern sky to sporting the ferocious expressions of bureaucrats ready to abuse their power.

While Zhao listened to one of their number lecture him on ‘proper behavior’ and gave assurances that an equally proper punishment would undoubtedly fall on their heads for leaving the sect, he couldn’t help but wonder how Jianghu functioned at all.

Thankfully their group was quickly spared further admonishment by the same supervisor that had previously overruled the junior guards’ attempt to stop their leaving.

The woman quickly intervened with a wave of this-or-that badge and so-and-so’s name, bringing them into the squat pagoda that served as the guards’ post while imprinting a fancy jade with a message and tossing it into the air. It shot off in a streak of light that Gu Hong’s eyes lingered on.

“Wait here” were the only instructions given, and accordingly the youths idly made use of the only entertainment present: a go board.

All amateurs, the games moved briskly until near the end of their seventh match a regal voice instructed from behind Gu Hong, “Ah, I’m afraid you seem to have fallen for a classic trap.”

Not having noticed the Elder’s entry, everyone tensed as if expecting the heavens’ judgment to descend.

Zhao in particular swallowed deeply at the sight of the same mysterious Elder that had ‘encouraged’ him to go on the escort mission that almost cost him his life.

“Come,” the Elder said as he patted Che Fang’s shoulder, “while Gu Hong and Tai Yang finish their game, I would like to hear your report of the mission.”

A cold sweat broke out on everyone’s back at the implication behind those words- it was unheard of for an Elder to debrief disciples at all, let alone individually.

Nevertheless, the nameless Elder took each of them into an adjacent room one by one while the remaining disciples waited in silent recognition of the power of an Elder’s divine sense. The game of go lay forgotten.

Upon completing the final interview, the Elder regathered the young men and invited them to sit with him.

“I am impressed,” he began, “by the striking oversights in each of your unique versions of the mission.” A causal wave dismissed their nascent protests as the Elder cut off unspoken defense.

“It is a complement, not the prelude to an inquisition. Everyone has their secrets.” With those words he paused to gaze at each of them deeply, focusing uncomfortably on Zhao.

Then the older man sighed. “I suppose you are entitled to an explanation… let’s see.”

For a moment the man’s wrinkled eyelids shuttered and his covered eyes flickered madly as if engaged in Rapid Eye Movement sleep at an accelerated pace. To Zhao it felt strangely like watching a computer run calculations.

“I am Elder Shen,” began the cultivator as his eyes snapped open, “and I have decided to take a guiding role in your development.”

Zhao’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the name: Head Elder of the Spirit Art Pagoda.

“I sent you away to safeguard you from the Li and Che Clans.” Elder Shen admitted with a smirk.

“However,” his smile inverted, “the timing was unfortunate; the Yellow Autumn Sect’s yearly attack has come early and been beyond expectations.”

With a stroke of his well-groomed goatee the Elder continued, “Based on your account it seems they have partnered with unsavory actors to devise this mist-based formation.”

A snort echoed with pressure. “They attempt to lure out disciples for slaughter while shamelessly sealing us in an attempt to poach the mortals under our protection.”

Refocusing on Zhao the Elder abruptly made an offer. “I would like you to venture out and put a stop to their actions under the official title of Admissions Disciple.”

In response Zhao swallowed objections and ground out a smile. “Of course.” he said, adding a weakly mustered counter, “Although Elder Ki might not allow for such a unilateral promotion.”

A flourish of sleeves dissipated the hope that Elder Ki would prevent being wrangled into further Sect politics. “I discussed the matter with Ki upon your return. You will be responsible for recruiting ten times the normal number of disciples- give no concern to the age of the applicants. The only qualification is enough piddling talent to reach early Qi Condensation stage.”

Zhao was about to prod for further information but held his tongue at a sharp glance from Elder Shen. “Draw what conclusions you will, but do not ask me to clarify the reason for the change.”

After ensuring Zhao understood, the Elder continued, “In addition, you are to remove any Yellow Autumn disciples you find in our territory.”

Pressing forward over questions he finished, “Unlike the last mission I arranged, this mission must follow the standard rules. Five disciples- proper Inner Disciples- which means three more than those present. I believe you know Nan Xi, who will serve as the third, but you will have to provide me with two other names. Do not worry about their compliance… I will ensure it.”

Swallowing thickly, Zhao wracked his brain for names but came up short, as he had up until recently been rather hermetic.

When Elder Shen raised an impatient eyebrow Zhao turned to Tai Yang and asked for ‘recommendations’ which earned him a grin. “Ah yes, we could use a sparring partner, good thinking Boss!”

Scratching his head and scrunching his face in concentration, Tai Yang gave a name. “Bao Chi might work.”

As an afterthought the brute proposed Ming Fe join their expedition as a healer that could patch them up after bouts, which Zhao promptly condoned thanks to alternate, more logical, reasoning.

Without comment the Elder launched three flying jades out the window simultaneously, before shifting topics.

“Let me see the spatial item.” Elder Shen commanded sternly, open palmed.

Though it made his heart bleed, Zhao handed it over without any show of resistance, even bowing a little to ingratiate himself.

With a wave of his hand, the room began to fill with items- including the cauldron that was inappropriately large for the room they were in- before they once again vanished.

Two medallions remained outside the storage space, called to hover in front of the Elder for examination. One depicted a falling yellow leaf while the other had an image of what might best be described as a biblical angel. The creature was a multitude of eyes and wings swirling in an incomprehensible mess.

The first token clearly belonged to the Yellow Autumn Sect, but the latter token’s origin would have been enigmatic had Gu Hong not grabbed Zhao’s hand with burning eyes. Having read the boy’s history it was a short leap to understand that Gu recognized the symbol from his past.

A look from Zhao stopped the youth from sharing his familiarity with the Elder before them.

Eventually all the items had disappeared, and Elder Shen handed back the spatial storage bag back to Zhao. “You can keep that, but I will need to confiscate the majority of your spoils.”

A mundane bag appeared in the Elder’s hand and fell to the ground with the glass-like chime of spirit stones punctuated by a smile. “In exchange you will be compensated with cultivation resources and merit points.”

Clapping once, the older man dismissed his charges. “Now, go seek out transportation as I resolve the arrangements. Expect your fellow disciples to meet you at the edge of the mortal town below.”

Without further comment the experienced cultivator abruptly disappeared, leaving behind contemplative disciples.