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“S-Sect Leader, there’s a child who wishes to see you, h-he gave me this.”
With downcast eyes the servant holds out a small round object. A golden pearl button. He is well aware this is quite the sensitive matter, enough it could incense his normally so gentle Sect Leader, but he didn’t have the heart to just chase away the poor kid. To his surprise, Sect Leader Jin does not show the slightest displeasure at the sight of the button.
“Please return this, it isn’t mine.”
Of course, it couldn’t have been, thankfully his Sect Leader did not scold him for this of waste time.

♦ Is this a joke?
Out of curiosity you had taken a look outside. There really was a child around the same age waiting atop the stairs, looking very similar down to the clothes. Whoever sent the boy must have hoped he’d receive harsh punishment. A cruel joke indeed but it was not the child’s fault being used for someone else's amusement. You will show that you’re above having a child thrown down a flight of stairs, prove that you are not like your father. You will even provide the poor kid with an indemnity for his effort and a stern lecture to not follow strangers’ instructions so naively, before sending him away.

♢ After traveling for so many days you had finally reached the residence of your father’s Sect, Jinlin Tai. Seeing how it towers above the city even from far away was already impressive but never could you have imagined how tall it truly is. You’d heard about a sea of white peonies framing the stairs leading up to it, but no description could’ve prepared you for such a dazzling sight climbing them. Not just their beauty but the sheer amount. It was really like the sea, or at least, what you imagine the sea to look like and thus it had taken you half a day to reach the top, stopping many times to admire the view.

You’ve been waiting already for a while. Had it been foolish to have given the servant the pearl button? Would he even show it to your father? What if he doesn’t bring it back? It’s the only proof you have after all.

As you are lost in thoughts imagining the worst, a person emerges from the building. Atop of the stairs, with the air of someone beyond this world, stands your father in all his splendor. You had not expected to meet him so easily.
Adorned with elegant robes and a kind smile, he emanates peace and calm, dispersing all your fears at once. So this is what a cultivator, no, a Sect Leader looks like. His dark eyes studying you wordlessly, he whispers something to the servant who had greeted you before, then he turns around and leaves again.
Of course this was too good to be true.

♦ It’s an unpleasant surprise, fortunately hidden by your usual smile. The boy does not merely look similar, he looks exactly like you used to. Whoever planned this knows more than they possibly could. No. It’s impossible. Every detail is the same, even the scar on his elbow and countless other ones, most having long healed by now. There is no way for these to be known, some not even by your own mother and even less by anyone still alive.
There’s no way around this, you’ll have to look closer into this.
“Let him in. I wish to have a word, but only guide him, neither you nor anyone else may speak to him.”

♢ Of course you’d be rejected. Thinking any other way? What a foolish thing, yet it stings when the servant returns the pearl button and now he just stands there glaring at you in mockery. Fine fine, you will leave.
Ahem, the servant clears his throat and is now making a gesture for you… to follow him? It’s almost like he’s displeased you’re taking this long, making his Sect Leader wait. So quickly you follow. No longer annoyed, he keeps throwing you curious glances, like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t dare to.

As you cross the hallways of Jinlin Tai, you can sense many eyes following you. The moment you look back, they avert their gaze, servants scurrying away as if suddenly remembering an important task they forgot. The bolder ones you can see whispering to each other.
A boy in such torn and ragged clothes really must be a curiosity in such a beautiful residence, sticking out like a sore thumb.
You’d always thought your home looked luxurious with all the beautiful women and the fancy decor, but it pales in comparison to this place. Ah, how embarrassing, you feel ashamed for thinking of such a tacky place as elegant, but you couldn’t even have imagined splendor like this one here to exist.

The servant guides you to a remote pavillion in the garden. The only other person present is another servant pouring tea after which both leave and you are left to wait. It must be of high quality, a fragrance unlike any tea you’ve ever tasted before. Everything, even the teacup looks like it’d be worth more than your life. You don’t dare drink it, fearing the moment you do you’ll wake up from this dream. It feels so wrong, do you really belong in such a place? As much as you try to fight the urge you can’t help but get up. Just sneak away, leave! But as you turn around that gentle smile greets you.
Taking a look at the still full cup of tea, he asks: “Is it not to your liking?”

♦ You’d observed the boy a bit longer almost as if hoping he’d just vanish into thin air. But problems never solve themselves. When he sees you he kneels down into a deep kowtow.
His expression, the exact gesture, the familiarity of it all stirs up nausea, unease creeping up in the back of your mind. There’s not much you can do, only seek for answers you’d rather not know.
“Young man, I’m sure you understand well that one should neither deceive nor be dishonest, so please answer me truthfully, what is your name?”
The boy seems confused, hesitating before he lifts his head to answer: “My name is Meng Yao.”
It is the answer you expected, but still hoped not to hear. How could this be? There’s no other explanation than this really being a very cruel elaborate prank. You need more answers, sooner or later he will trip over his lies and you can put an end to this farce.

♢ Under the layers of his politeness lies a strange hostility. It had almost slipped your notice if it weren’t so familiar. He’s skilled, but you are more than familiar with this game of playing pretend, it’s almost comforting and when you answer his first question the smile slips off his face for the fraction of a moment.
Most people wouldn’t even bother to conceal their disdain so why does he?
Well, good for you, just play along.
He follows with more questions. “What is the name of your mother?”,“Which year and where have you been born?”; “Do you know how to play the qin?”; “Who taught you?”
You answer them truthfully, understanding their necessity to confirm your identity, even when they become increasingly odd and… intrusive. If he already knows why ask? How could he even know? Did your mother talk about these things in the countless letters she sent? But if he read them, why never answer?

“How did you receive that scar on the inside of your left thigh?”

The blood in your veins runs cold. Even if you could answer, you wouldn’t. Your mother never knew about this; she suffered enough already, too sick to even stand up back then, you let her die at least without this knowledge. You made sure no one could ever find out, you were thorough. So how does he know? And if he knows, wouldn’t that mean-
“I apologize, this was improper of me to ask, you don’t need to answer.” His gaze wanders around the room, avoiding yours.
Was there a flash of grief on his face? Could someone like this, whose life couldn’t have been more different from yours, feel sympathy or even understand what you’ve been through?

♦ Just like before, another unwanted but not unexpected reaction. You did not want to delve so far, did not want to stir up these memories. Not remember what was done to you and even less what you did. That you enjoyed it, the pleasure and vindication, the thrill of ruling over another’s fate. Fortunately, by now, it’s merely an old habit, nothing more.
However this came to be, there’s no other explanation: The boy in front of you is yourself. No matter how much you poke and prod, the result won’t change. There can only be so many coincidences.
What should you do? Pretend ignorance and send him away as planned?
“You said you have proof? Can you show me?” Even though there’s no need anymore you still wish to see it, wish to hold this tangible proof in your own hands. Or maybe it’s just the nostalgia, to hold again what was one of the few keepsakes given by your mother but taken from you so long ago.

♢ You do as you are told and hand your father the golden pearl button. Carefully, he takes it, avoiding any direct contact between the two of you. Of course, since he knows, he’d not want to touch someone as dirty as you. Raising it close to his face, he gives it a good look, scrutinizing every detail.

♦ It really is the same pearl button, with the same familiar scratch betraying its inferior quality but in the eyes of this child it must be his greatest treasure.
Well, it is time to bring this charade to a close.

♢ After turning the pearl button over a few times his gaze comes to rest on yours. “Do you know who I am?”
It’s eerie, he’s dropped the kind act entirely now, only a cold glare left. What made his mood shift that he’s not even bothering to keep up the fake smile? Apparently if you stand so far above others you can just do that, huh?
Carefully you think over how you should reply, yet you can only find one answer: “Sect Leader Jin,” followed by a barely audible whisper “my father…”
He lets out a deep sigh. There’s sadness and sympathy in his eyes, still it feels humiliating with his gaze avoiding you.
“Your father is already deceased, I am his successor.”

Oh.

This was unexpected.
You had considered many possible outcomes, prepared yourself for countless different rejections.
But not this one.
This was an outcome that had not even grazed your mind.
Don’t cultivators live long lives? Or are these just tales…
Would the Sect Leader, your half-brother, even care about your plight? Or has he just strung you along this entire time for his own amusement?

♦ Ah, to be mistaken for your father stings. Of course you can’t blame yourself. The child doesn’t know. You don’t know what kind of person your father is yet, don’t know any of the heinous deeds he has committed. And you won’t know. He’s dead and you don’t need his shadow looming over you. You won’t be like him, not even in the slightest.

♢ “Don’t worry, I understand you have come from far away and have no place to return to, so I would like to at least give you a chance.”
Huh?
“However I must warn you, you are already far past the best age to start cultivating, you will never acquire outstanding abilities, if glory is what you seek. I cannot even guarantee you will even form a core at all. But if you can, and if you work hard I might accept you as a disciple and if against all odds you prove me wrong, I might even publicly acknowledge you as my kin.”

♦ You do not wish to be here, but you won’t be unfair, this is a promise but you should at least earn your place. Who knows, maybe once spent a while here you won’t even like it and leave all by yourself and you could go back to pretending this never happened.
“You surely must know, there are no means to prove any of what you have told me. Still I believe you are telling the truth.”

♢ With these words, his radiance had come back, the kind smile emitting a warmth much more honest than before. It is not perfectly what you had hoped for but it should be good enough, your mother surely can rest peacefully!
“Thank you Sect Leader! Thank you so much! I am forever indebted to you!” On your knees you bow as deep as you can.
“However,” he adds in almost a whisper “there is one condition.” Solemnly he looks at you “You must give up your name, your mother’s and never speak of them again."

"Are you willing to do this?”