The festival hall still thrummed with excitement as the duels proceeded and whispered admiration filled the air. Though the clash between wind and wood had ended, its echoes remained—an emblem of unexpected brilliance. Yinmo, battered but unbowed from his duel with Feng Tao, sat quietly in a dim alcove. Every splintered vine and every moment when his gentle wood magic nearly halted the ferocity of wind was now seen by many as a testament to his raw potential rather than a bitter defeat.
Nearby, the duel between Lei Xuan and Shen Liang continued to captivate the gathered audience. Lively discussions broke out in clusters—most classmates and even some of the respected elders expressed surprise and admiration at what they'd witnessed. They spoke of Yinmo's performance with a reverence usually reserved for prodigies; here was a youth who, despite the intrinsic slowness of wood magic, had shown ingenuity and resilience in the face of a tempest.
Yet in a shadowed alcove near the stage, the clan leader exchanged hushed words with his longtime advisor, Master Rui. Despite the general respect stirring in the hall for Yinmo's display, the clan leader's expression was hard and troubled. His tone carried a biting edge as he addressed the lingering questions surrounding the performance.
"They call his effort inspirational," he said quietly, glancing toward where Yinmo sat with quiet dignity. "I see you and many of our peers marveling at the resilience he exhibited. Yet I cannot allow such unexpected brilliance to stand unchallenged. His performance, albeit impressive to his cohorts, falls short of my design."
Master Rui frowned, uneasy at his superior's measured disdain. "But his recovery and the way his vines interlocked with Feng Tao's wind—it was nothing short of extraordinary. The others have recognized that fire in him, even if he remains, by nature, the gentle cultivator he is."
The clan leader's eyes narrowed, troubled by the very admiration that should have been unqualified. "It is precisely that spark I despise. I set an artificial standard for him long ago—a decree forced not by any academy requirement but solely to keep him in check. This standard, demanding the Third Qi Gathering stage before any academy consideration, was meant to prevent such reckless displays from unsettling the established order. And yet, even now, he challenges expectation. His performance may seem commendable, but it threatens to undermine my control over his progress."
Master Rui shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps it is not a failure on Yinmo's part, but rather an indication of his innate potential—a potential that should be nurtured, not stifled. The respect others have shown him suggests his talent is genuine."
A bitter laugh left the clan leader's lips, low and bitter. "Respect? They dare to admire a youth who... dazzles on the surface with sporadic brilliance while his core remains unproven? No ordinary student can sustain such rapid progress. I must ensure that, despite these showings, he never outpaces the very limits I've imposed upon him. That standard exists solely for Yinmo—so that his future will be choked by expectations designed to stunt any true breakthrough."
In the midst of the celebration, Yinmo absorbed not only the admiration from those around him but also the sting of whispered reproaches. Though he had not met every expectation—and the contest against Feng Tao had revealed vulnerabilities—many of his peers lauded what appeared to be a winning spirit. "They see me as a rising talent," he mused quietly under the glow of a flickering lantern, "as someone who held his ground against the impossible. But I know in my heart that every success here carries the weight of a scheme meant to clip my wings."
Observing from a relative distance, Yinmo's eyes glinted with both sorrow and determined fire. The accolades he received from fellow students and even encouraging nods from a few supportive elders only strengthened his resolve. He whispered to himself, "If they respect my efforts, then I shall learn to forge them into true strength. Their standards are weapons aimed against me—but I will cast them aside and rise beyond what they have forced upon me."
Outside the alcove, the festival carried on with renewed energy—duels, chants of praise, and strategic whispers intermingled as the night deepened. In that duality lay Yinmo's true test: balancing the admiration for his raw potential against the strain of a cruelly imposed standard. His battle against Feng Tao was just one chapter in a longer war—a war not only for personal mastery but for claiming a destiny unbound by the whims of a resentful overlord.
In that charged atmosphere, Yinmo vowed silently that his next trials would be won not by meeting an artificial barrier, but by redefining his very nature. And though the clan leader's envy and necessity to control cast a cold shadow over his future, the spark of genuine talent within Yinmo promised to burn ever brighter—no matter how many chains were imposed upon him.