Do you dream?

In the nestled embrace of ancient mountains, where peaks pierced the heavens and valleys whispered secrets of the earth, the Jianyu Sect began to stir with the first light of dawn. As the sun's first rays peeked over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, the sect's disciples awoke to a new day of challenges and enlightenment. The air was cool and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the subtle fragrance of herbs from the sect's vast gardens. 

The life was slowly instilled in the sect and a hustle broke out with the disciples rising and getting ready for the morning exercises. 

In a distant place in the student's residing area, the sun shone through the thin paper window on the figure cloaked in blankets. As the rays of the shining and cool sun hit the blanket, the figure inside made a disapponited sound. The figure turned and pulled the blanket over the head as if to avoid the sunshine. After the sunshine no longer disrupting, the figure stilled.

A sturdy, wooden bed, its frame carved with subtle motifs, stood against the room's eastern wall, positioned to catch the first gentle rays of the sun. Beside it, a small bedside table cradled an incense burner, from which thin tendrils of smoke rose lazily, weaving fragrant whispers of sandalwood into the still air. Across from the bed, a simple desk of bamboo rested by the window, its surface clear except for a few scrolls and a writing brush resting on a stone inkwell. A narrow wardrobe stood discreetly in the corner, its doors closed upon the disciple's modest possessions. It was simple yet elegant, sparse yet purposeful.

Contrasting with the hustle and bustle of the surroundings of the room, the inside was quite serene and silent. The morning light filtring softly through the rice paper window, casting gentle patterns across the wooden floor, was still trying to wake the figure covered in blankets so much that even a stray ant would not be able to make its way through the covers. 

As the serene morning light cast a tranquil glow across the room, the door opened quietly. A young fellow of about the age of 18-19, his expression a mix of resignation and mild irritation. Dressed in the standard attire of the Jianyu Sect, his presence introduced a subtle shift in the room's atmosphere. Approaching the sleeping disciple with soft steps, a sigh escaped his lips, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of a recurring duty. "Every morning, it's the same," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment, "Why must it always be me to wake you?" 

The question was answered with a snoring sound, coming from the blanket. 

With a resolve steeled by routine, the visiting disciple reached out, his hands gently grasping the edge of the blanket. With a swift, yet careful motion, he pulled it away, unveiling the slumbering form beneath. The light of dawn caressed the young man's face, revealing features of tranquil beauty that seemed almost sculpted by the serene environment. His skin bore the soft glow of youth, his lips parted slightly in the vestiges of deep sleep, and his hair, a cascade of soft strands, framed his face in disarray, lending him an ethereal, untouched grace.

The abrupt departure of warmth stirred the young man from his dreams, his brows knitting together in a frown as the real world intruded upon his sleep. "Mmm... What time is it?" he mumbled, his voice laced with the heaviness of sleep and a budding irritation at the disturbance. His eyes, a deep shade reflecting the early morning sky, fluttered open, landing on the figure of his fellow disciple with a mix of confusion and slight annoyance.

The other disciple, undeterred by the young man's evident displeasure, stood firm. "It's time for morning practice. You know Master won't tolerate tardiness," he said, his tone carrying a mix of empathy and exasperation. "Come on, we can't let the day start without us."

The young man, still ensnared by the remnants of sleep, cast a longing glance towards the comfort of his bed, the desire to retreat back into its embrace written clearly across his face. "Just five more minutes," he pleaded, his voice a blend of weariness and a half-hearted attempt at negotiation. "The morning is still young; surely, the universe won't miss one disciple for a few more moments."

The visiting disciple, however, was unmoved by the appeal, their stance embodying the discipline instilled by their training. "Five minutes turn to ten, and ten to missing the sunrise meditation. You know how vital it is for harnessing the day's first energies," he countered, his voice firm yet not without warmth. "Besides, Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."

The young man sighed, a sound of defeat as he knew no matter how many times he struggle, he would still have to wake up at the nagging of his disciple. He sat up fully now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with more vigor. "Alright, you win. You are the most persistent alarm in this entire world," he said with the most irritated tone. 

Wei Li watched with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement as Yun Fen finally surrendered to the inevitability of morning practice. As Yun Fen swung his legs off the bed and stood, Wei Li couldn't resist another gentle jab. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"

Yun Fen shot Wei Li a look that was half annoyance, half jest. 

Wei Li went ahead and opened the rice paper window. The sun rays finally were able to find their whole way into the room illuminating each and every part of the room. Yun Fen narrowed his eyes, trying to still move away from the sunshine. He got up from the bed and put off the burning incense stick. 

"Look at it this way, Yun Fen," he began, gesturing towards the window where the first rays of sunlight streamed in, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. "The sun has already begun to share its light, and the birds are singing their morning songs. It's as if the world has been created just to be witnessed by the very eyes of the humans," Wei Li said with enthusiasim. Yun Fen let out a chuckle at the vigor of his good friend.

 "Created or not, I'd have preferred to witness it a bit later in the day," he retorted, stretching his limbs to chase away the stiffness of sleep. "But since you're so intent on ruining my dreams, I might as well make the most of it."

Yun Fen began to gather his washing essentials, moving towards the small basin in the corner of the room filled with fresh, cold water. Splashing the water on his face, he grimaced at the chill but welcomed the brisk wakefulness it brought.

"Ah, that's the spirit," Wei Li said, leaning against the doorframe. "Now, hurry up. You know how Master Huan gets when we're late. And I'm not about to face his wrath because you love your bed more than cultivation."

Yun Fen dried his face with a rough cloth, the water droplets catching the first light, making him look almost ethereal for a moment. "Master Huan's lectures on discipline are the last thing I need first thing in the morning," Yun Fen admitted, now fully awake. "Alright, lead the way, oh great waker of sleepy disciples. Let's not keep the universe—or Master Huan—waiting." 

Wei Li and Yun Fen chuckled together. As it was always Wei Li, being the senior among the new disciples, waking up the disciples who do not wake up on time, the fellow disciples had named him the Great Waker. Some would even call him Personal Alarm as he would actually make his way to wake up each and every disciple. And, thus, the disciples were not afraid of being reprimanded by the elders because nonetheless they would be woken up. 

As they exited Yun Fen's room, the narrow hallways of the Jianyu Sect greeted them, already bustling with the activities of other disciples. The two made their way towards the courtyard where morning classes were held, their steps quickening when the first bell was ringed in the distant chamber. 

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As Yun Fen and Wei Li emerged into the crisp morning air, the training grounds of the Jianyu Sect unfolded before them, a vast expanse bordered by the whispering forests and ancient, watchful mountains. The grounds were already alive with the vibrant energy of disciples from the five distinct halls, each marked by unique emblems on their robes that signified their specialized training.

The allure of the Jianyu Sect extended far beyond its prestigious reputation in both the cultivation and mortal worlds; it was renowned for its unique and inclusive philosophy towards cultivation. Unlike other sects that sought disciples with inherent talents or exceptional innate abilities, Jianyu Sect opened its doors to those who demonstrated dedication, passion, and a willingness to excel in their chosen path. This ethos resonated deeply with many, drawing individuals who yearned not only for power but also for personal growth and mastery over their crafts. It was a place where the strength of one's character and the depth of one's commitment were valued above the accidents of birth or the presence of inborn gifts.

Furthermore, the Sect's approach to the journey of cultivation was refreshingly liberating. Disciples were encouraged to forge connections with the world around them, maintaining their ties to the mortal realm even as they pursued the heights of spiritual achievement. This freedom to choose their destinies, to come and go as they pleased, was unheard of in the rigid structures of traditional cultivation sects, where severing ties with one's past was often a prerequisite for advancement. In Jianyu Sect, the belief was that true enlightenment and power came from harmony between the spiritual and the mundane, from understanding the natural flow of the world and one's place within it. This philosophy not only attracted a diverse array of disciples but also cultivated a sense of unity and respect for life in all its forms, setting the Sect apart as a beacon of holistic cultivation and personal freedom.

At present, Jianyu Sect had five different halls:

Hall of the Blade - Disciples here focused on mastering swordsmanship and other bladed weapons. Their emblem was a silver sword set against a blue background. The hierarchy within this path was denoted by the shade of blue on their uniforms, with lighter hues for novices and deepening to a rich navy for the highest ranks.

Hall of the Elements - These disciples honed their ability to manipulate the natural elements. Their emblem featured a circle divided into quadrants representing fire, water, earth, and air, set on a green backdrop. The uniform colors ranged from pale green for beginners to a dark emerald for the elders.

Hall of the Mind - Focused on mental fortitude and psychic abilities, their emblem was an open eye on a background of purple. Uniforms shifted from light lavender shades up to a deep violet for those of the highest mastery.

Hall of Healing - This path concentrated on medical knowledge and healing techniques. The emblem was a golden caduceus on a white robe. The shades of white intensified from off-white for the initiates to pure white for the master healers.

Hall of Tranquility - Yun Fen's path, where disciples seek to absorb the tranquility of nature to cultivate Qi beyond ordinary means. Their emblem was a serene mountain peak atop a still lake, embroidered on a silver robe. The colors transitioned from light silver for the newcomers to a shimmering, almost ethereal silver for the top ranks.

As Yun Fen and Wei Li made their way toward the sprawling training grounds of the Jianyu Sect, the air was electric with the anticipation and energy of the disciples from the five distinct halls. The diversity of the sect was on full display. The grounds themselves seemed to pulse with the collective focus and determination of the disciples, each step towards their designated training areas charged with purpose. 

It was a necessary sect rule for each disciple, whatever the Hall they belonged to, and whatever seniority they had in the sect, they must be present for the morning exercises. As the sun's first light crested the horizon, disciples from all the Halls must gather in the training grounds. This communal practice underscored the Jianyu Sect's core belief that true strength lay in harmony and balance, reinforcing the bonds between disciples and deepening their connection to the ancient ways of cultivation. 

Today was such an everyday. The only distinct feature was that the training grounds were practically cramped as if all the disciples just remembered to forgo the punishment of waking up late, or pretending to be sick in bed, and actually were present.

"Look at the turnout today," Wei Li noted, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "Seems like Elder Mingjian's presence has everyone eager to impress."

"Elder Mingjian? Who is he?" Yun Fen asked in surprise, narrowing his eyes.

Wei Li turned to Yun Fen, a hint of awe in his voice as he replied, "Elder Mingjian is unlike any other within our sect. He doesn't belong to any Hall, and his teachings are rare treasures. Seeing him is a privilege, for he's present only a few days each year, and his true role within the sect is shrouded in mystery."

Yun Fen's curiosity piqued, he pressed, "But why such secrecy? What's so special about him?"

Shrugging, Wei Li admitted, "No one really knows. There are countless legends about Elder Mingjian, each more fantastical than the last. But the truth? It remains hidden, perhaps known only to the sect's highest elders."

A disciple, previously unnoticed, wove through the crowd to approach them. In a hushed tone, he unveiled a more palpable piece of gossip, "Curious about Elder Mingjian? The tale within our circles holds more weight. It's said that in the Forbidden Forest, he discovered an ancient mirror, one that could grant unmatched wisdom to its viewer. However, this mirror, charged with celestial power, was forbidden to mortals. Driven by his hunger for enlightenment, Elder Mingjian looked into it. Instead of wisdom, the mirror revealed secrets of the soul and glimpses of the future, a revelation so profound that it shattered, sending its fragments into his face. These scars, beyond the reach of any healing, are hidden beneath his mask." 

Yun Fen chuckled, shaking his head. "That sounds more like a tale for children than the truth. How could anyone believe such a story?"

The disciple blinked, confusion marring his features. "But everyone knows this is the true story..." he stammered, trailing off as Yun Fen's laughter grew louder.

His gaze shifted between the amused faces of the surrounding disciplines, searching for confirmation, validation. Finding none, a frustrated flush crept up his neck. "Fine," he muttered, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Believe what you want. But whispers often hold more truth than shouts." With a huff, a frown on his forehead and eyes that showcased disappointement that a good storyteller faces when his story is met with disdain other than appreciation from the crowed, he was about to turn.

As the disciple was about to turn, his shoulders slumped in defeat, when a gentle hand touched his arm. He looked back to see Wei Li, a concerned expression on his face.

"Wait," Wei Li said softly. "My friend might be...well, Yun Fen, but there's no harm in hearing different perspectives, is there?"

The disciple hesitated, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. "But he laughed," he mumbled, gesturing toward Yun Fen, who was still chuckling to himself.

"He laughs at everything," Wei Li assured him with a smile. "So, tell me, what is this true story you speak of?"

The disciple straightened, his voice gaining confidence as he recounted the tale of Elder Mingjian and the ancient mirror, embellishing every detail with newfound fervor. He spoke of the mirror's celestial glow, the chilling touch of its surface, and the earth-shattering revelation it bestowed upon the elder. When he finished, he looked at Wei Li expectantly, waiting for confirmation, for someone to believe.

However, instead of the validation he sought, Wei Li's lips quirked into a hesitant smile. "It's...certainly an interesting story," he said diplomatically.

But before he could elaborate, Yun Fen's booming laughter filled the air once more. "Oh, Wei Li, don't tell me you're buying into this children's fable?" he exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Other disciples nearby chimed in, their amusement evident. "Sounds like something out of an old wives' tale," one snickered.

"Maybe the mirror showed him his own reflection, causing him to shatter the mirror before he could see the truth," another joked, earning a chorus of giggles.

The disciple's face flushed crimson. His hope had transformed into embarrassment, his enthusiasm doused by their mockery. He opened his mouth to retort, but the words wouldn't come. He felt small, foolish, his secret truth ridiculed in the harsh light of their disbelief.

He frowned slightly. 

Seeing the things heating up instead of soothing, Wei Li shook his head and carressed the hand of the disciple with a diplomatic approach, interjecting between the disciple and Yun Fen with a calming smile. "Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for harsh words. Why don't we all take a step back and hear each other out?"

The disciple's frown softened slightly, replaced by a spark of eagerness. He leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower. "They say the mirror not only revealed secrets, but also cursed him. A curse that manifests in nightmares so vivid, so real, that they leave him drained and shaken each morning."

Before Wei Li could respond, hoping to finally Yun Fen's laughter erupted once more, loud and booming. "Oh, come now," he scoffed, tears welling in his eyes from mirth. "Nightmares? Don't tell me you believe in such childish tales!"

His laughter was contagious. Soon, other disciples nearby were chuckling, some even snorting with amusement. One, a young woman with bright eyes, chimed in, "Nightmares? More like indigestion from eating too many forbidden forest berries!"

The disciple's face flushed crimson. He clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger and humiliation. "It's true!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Just because you choose not to believe doesn't make it a lie!"

The disciple's face flushed crimson. He clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger and humiliation. "It's true!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Just because you choose not to believe doesn't make it a lie!"

But his outburst was met with more laughter, louder and crueler this time. Some disciples even began to mock him, mimicking his words in exaggerated tones. The disciple, defeated and ostracized, shrunk back and turned away, disappearing into the throng.

Wei Li watched him go, a pang of sympathy and guilt twisting in his gut. He couldn't and wouldn't stop the disciple once again, as he was the primary reason why the other discipline was mocked. If only I hadn't stopped him.....

He turned to Yun Fen, his expression stern. "That wasn't kind, Yun Fen," he said, his voice low but firm. "His story may have been fantastical, but there's no need to be cruel."

Yun Fen shrugged, his laughter subsiding but not entirely gone. "He should learn not to spread such nonsense," he grumbled. "It only muddies the truth."

Wei Li sighed. "Perhaps," she said, "but sometimes, even whispers can hold a grain of truth. And sometimes, the loudest voices are the ones most afraid to listen."

Yun Fen was amused. 

As if a sense of acknowledgement passed over everyone, the scattered disciples quickened their movements to form lines. With practiced efficiency, they separated based on their belonging to the five halls. Within each hall, further division occurred, reflecting the four ranks of seniority: Initiates, Disciples, Adepts, and Masters. Each rank formed its own queue, resulting in a precise grid of twenty lines across the vast field. The silence was punctuated only by the rustle of fabric and the click of practice weaponry being readied, creating a palpable tension that crackled in the air.

All conversations ceased as Elder Mingjian made his grand entrance. He was a vision to behold, tall and imposing, his robe the color of the clear summer sky. The silver mask covering half of his face added to his mystique, leaving everyone captivated by the exposed portion of his visage that revealed his striking beauty. His thin, slightly pink lips were set in a serene expression, and as he walked toward the elevated dais, his hands remained clasped behind his back, the very picture of grace and authority.

The morning sun seemed to find him and him alone, its rays enveloping him in a light that rendered him almost otherworldly. As Elder Mingjian reached the open space on the dais, he paused, allowing the silent reverence of his audience to fill the air. His eyes, visible above the mask, swept over the disciples, imparting a sense of calm and profound wisdom.

The entire sect, from the youngest disciple to the most seasoned elder, was entranced. The usual vibrant energy of the training grounds was replaced by an anticipatory stillness, every pair of eyes raised to the figure that represented the very essence of all their speculations.

The tension in the air grew thicker as Elder Mingjian raised a hand, silencing even the soft rustle of fabric. His gaze, calm and penetrating, swept across the assembled disciples, seemingly meeting each individual's eyes. A hush fell over the grounds, broken only by the distant chirping of birds.

Elder Mingjian raised his hand, the movement slow and deliberate. The gesture, imbued with unspoken authority, held the entire sect in thrall. Even the rustling of fabric and the clinking of weapons ceased, replaced by a stillness so profound it seemed to amplify the very sound of each heartbeat.

Then, with a voice that resonated deep within the hearts of every disciple, Elder Mingjian spoke. His words, though few, carried the weight of centuries of accumulated wisdom. "The sun paints a new day across the horizon," he began, his voice a soothing balm against the morning chill, "and with it, we awaken the strength within. Not just the strength of muscle and bone, but the strength of the mind, the spirit, and the soul."

A collective breath was released as the tension eased slightly. The disciples, still captivated by the elder's presence, awaited his next words with bated breath.

"Today," Elder Mingjian continued, his gaze sweeping across the twenty lines of disciples, "we begin anew. We center ourselves, aligning our bodies and minds with the rhythm of the earth and the flow of energy that courses through all living things."

With a graceful wave of his hand, he initiated the first exercise. A ripple of movement flowed through the ranks as each disciple, regardless of hall or rank, mirrored his actions. Arms rose and fell in unison, mimicking the slow, deliberate movements of a blossoming flower reaching for the sun. Inhale, exhale. The air thrummed with the collective rhythm of their breaths, a symphony of focus and intention.

As the sun climbed higher, bathing the training grounds in a warm glow, the exercises progressed. From gentle stretches to simple stances, each movement held a deeper purpose, a reminder of the interconnectedness of all things. The disciples, initially hesitant, found themselves drawn into the flow, their bodies responding instinctively to the elder's guidance.

Sweat began to bead on foreheads, muscles protesting with a gentle ache. Yet, there was no strain, no competition. The focus remained inward, on the breath, on the feeling of energy coursing through their veins. It was a dance, not a fight, a harmonious awakening of the body and spirit.

As the morning exercises drew to a close, a sense of calm settled over the training grounds. The disciples, faces flushed and bodies energized, stood taller, their gazes reflecting a newfound clarity. The whispers of the morning, the doubts and anxieties, seemed to have dissipated like mist in the morning sun.

With a final wave of his hand, Elder Mingjian dismissed them, leaving them to make their way toward their respective halls where they would storm the refactories of their halls to make up for their empty stomachs grumbling like famished dragons after Elder Mingjian's invigorating yet calorie-burning exercises.

As Yun Fen and Wei Li left the disciplined serenity of the training grounds, their steps matched the lightness in their hearts. The air between them was filled with the camaraderie of shared experience, their conversation flowing as easily as the river that wound its way through the valley below the Jianyu Sect.

Yun Fen, his silver robe—a sign of his novice status in the Hall of Tranquility—glistening with the sweat of morning exertions, laughed at something Wei Li said, a humorous observation about one of their fellow disciples' overly serious demeanor during the exercises. "Did you see how Jian almost fell over trying to maintain that stance? Like a crane on one leg in a windstorm!" Yun Fen chuckled, his laughter ringing clear in the morning air.

Wei Li, in his slightly deeper shade of silver, indicative of his advanced standing in the same hall, joined in the laughter, adding, "Yes, and there was Mei Lin, trying not to giggle and lose her concentration. I swear, the look on her face was priceless!"

Their banter continued as they made their way back, occasionally chiming in with other groups of disciples who shared snippets of their morning's challenges and triumphs. 

Upon entering the refractory, the aroma of the morning's meal wafted towards them, a welcoming scent that promised satisfaction and comfort. Today's menu was a favorite among many: a hearty porridge accompanied by steamed vegetables and spiced tea, a perfect end to the physical exertions of the morning.

Yun Fen and Wei Li joined the queue. The line moved swiftly, the efficiency of the sect's cooks ensuring that no disciple went hungry for long.

As they neared the serving counter, Yun Fen couldn't resist jesting with the elderly aunt who oversaw the morning's meal preparation. "Aunt Zhang, have you added extra spices today, hoping to wake us up further, or is it to make sure we're all breathing fire by midday?" he asked, his tone playful.

Aunt Zhang, a beloved figure known for her culinary skills and maternal warmth, laughed heartily at Yun Fen's comment. "Ah, A'Fen, always quick with a joke. But beware, one day I might just take you up on that challenge and see how you fare!" she teased back, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she ladled porridge into his bowl.

Wei Li, watching the exchange with a smile, turned his thoughts to the earlier encounter with the disciple who had shared the legend of Elder Mingjian. "I should find him later," he mused aloud, "apologize for how things turned out. He was wearing an off-white uniform, wasn't he? Must be from the Hall of Healing. I hope he's not too upset."

Yun Fen nodded, his expression sobering at the memory. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he said, being amused yet once again at the kindness of his friend. However, it was the same kindness that had enable a lone wolf like Yun Fen to finally make a friend and socialize more under the social butterfly effect of his friend. 

That might be a good idea.

With their trays full, the two friends found a spot at one of the long tables, settling down among their fellow disciples. The refractory buzzed with the energy of satisfied hunger and lively conversation.

As they began to eat, Yun Fen couldn't help but add, "You know, Wei Li, if Aunt Zhang ever decides to make us breathe fire, I'm counting on you to douse the flames with your tea."

Wei Li laughed, shaking his head. "Only if you promise not to set the Hall of Tranquility ablaze with your fiery breath. I doubt our tranquil practices cover extinguishing literal fires."

Yun Fen took a thoughtful sip of his porridge, the warmth settling comfortably in his belly. "Speaking of things strange," he began, lowering his voice, "I had the most peculiar dream last night."

Wei Li set down his chopsticks, his gaze shifting to his friend. "Strange? Do tell."

Yun Fen recounted the dream, his voice hushed and tinged with wonder. He spoke of the mountain bathed in sunlight, the vibrant blossoms painting the air with their pink hues, and the enigmatic figure standing at the edge. He paused, searching for the right words. "It just...stopped there," he said, a frown furrowing his brow. "No explanation, no movement, just...frozen."

Wei Li listened intently, the clinking of spoons and murmured conversations fading into the background. A thoughtful silence settled between them as Yun Fen finished his tale. "Interesting," Wei Li finally murmured, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "Dreams can be such curious things, can't they?"

"Indeed," Yun Fen replied, his gaze drawn to the distant mountains bathed in the morning mist. "But this one..." he trailed off, the memory leaving him with an unsettling feeling he couldn't quite grasp. "It lingers."

As Yun Fen and Wei Li pondered the peculiar dream, a hush fell over the bustling refectory. Conversation dwindled, replaced by a prickling anticipation that drew all eyes toward the entrance. A hush had fallen, thicker than the steam rising from the bowls of porridge. In the doorway stood a tall figure, his silhouette framed by the rising sun. The morning light played upon the silver mask, reflecting an otherworldly glow that sent shivers down the spines of every disciple present.

It was Elder Mingjian.

He moved with an ethereal grace, the shadow of his imposing figure gliding across the polished floor like a silent promise. All eyes followed his path as he stopped at their table, his gaze settling on Yun Fen. The weight of his presence was palpable, pressing down on the room like a physical force.

"Do you dream?" the Elder's voice, cool and clear like mountain spring water, broke the silence. His masked eyes seemed to pierce through Yun Fen, searching for something deep within.