The Clownish poet of Jun peak

Juyao, the main peak of the Wen Clan, was full of commotion and many small blackheads were running back and forth. It was the day when new disciples were recruited into the clan. To enter the Wen Clan, a person had to pass three exams.

First is the written exam. It tested the knowledge of cultivation and its history.

The second was called the practical examination. Here one's physical strength and patience were measured.

The third was the spiritual examination. This gauged whether one had the basic requirements to study cultivation. But ordinary meditative skills were not enough to pass this. The spirit strength of the participants had to be remarkably strong.

After passing these three examinations, anyone could successfully join the Wen sect as an outer disciple. However, if they wanted to become an inner disciple, it was up to them and their Shizun had to show willingness to take them as an inner disciple. Therefore, many outside disciples were very loyal and submissive to their seniors.

However, there was only one person in the Wen clan who did not appear for the exams. He was called, the clownish poet! 

He cannot even lift a sword, there is no cultivational basis. He was just a cowardly loser who barely managed to compose a poem. If it weren't for his mother side connections, he should have been kicked off the peak by now.

"Have you heard of the clownish poet?" asked one of the people sitting in the dining hall of Juyao Peak. They had not yet been accepted as disciples, but as there were about two incense sticks of time left for the process, they were thus passing the time eating and playing. The dining hall was almost full and there were many answers to his question.

"He's a student at Jun Peak. Please, God, don't send me there." said a young man who was sitting near a window listening to the conversation. Others followed his words at the same time.

"Do you know why he is called the Clownish Poet?" One rose from his seat, raising his chopsticks. Many of these students came from far away and often there were only one or two who were familiar with the inner things of the sect.

"No, tell us."

"Yes, please tell us too." The crowd of disciples roared.

The boy who stood up began his story.

"This clownish poet is always wearing a mask, and you know why? He's so ugly. So, he wears a mask to cover his ugly face."

The crowd roared with delight. They were certainly rejoicing in disrespecting one another.

"Oh, he must have a hideous face to wear a mask. He better never take that mask off, or I'll die of vomiting from his hideous face." The crowd shouted at the words of one of the students.

"I heard something else, though," interrupted another. The crowd's attention was on him. He was a normal-looking, thin young man with pale skin. "What did you hear?" The young man holding up his chopsticks asked in a nonchalant voice. He was unhappy with this student for interrupting the attention he received.

"He was not born ugly. But during a hunt, he got a long scar across his face. Since then, he wears a mask to cover the scar." Said the thin pale young man.

"If what Luo Xiong says is true, I feel sorry for the clownish poet." Someone said with a sad face. The pale youth was named Luo Cheng. He had already made a good name among these new disciples. He passed all three exams with high marks and was personally commended by the sect leader. It was definitely like an invitation for him to join Juyao Peak.

The Tianmen Wen Sect had five peaks. Juyao Peak was its main and largest peak. It had already contributed great talents to the world and was the most powerful and respected pinnacle of the sect. Then there was Shensheng Peak. This gave priority to instruments and musical magic over martial arts, but they were also very powerful and fair indeed.

The third was called Chuangzhou Peak. It has the meaning of a long life.

The fourth was called Sha Diren and the fifth was called Jun Peak.

All four of these early peaks were exceptionally strong, and only the Jun peak was lazily and quietly marching along. They were more inclined towards spiritual branches than swordsmanship. Oh, what a crime! In fact, except for a few people who wanted to enter the sect at any cost, no one else needed to go to this Jun peak.

The young man, who was holding his chopsticks, darkened his face. He had the proud look of a peacock and had long eyes and well-shaped jaws. He turned to Luo Cheng.

"Who knows! It might have been something to cover up shame." He snapped in an angry voice. "That might be. Also, I've heard he has a quick anger." Another one said, provoking it. Luo Cheng didn't need to argue. Shaking head, he quietly went back to eating his food.

After a few moments, someone dressed in neat clothes ran into the dining hall. After pausing and taking a deep breath, he ran back to the back end of the dining room.

"Ming gongzi, Ming gongzi" he called out to the young man holding up the chopsticks earlier. "They're going to start in a few moments." The young man quickly drank a glass of water what in the side, in one breath.

From the looks of it, he must have run here from the main hall. "Oh, the conference is about to start." Coldly informed the others, Shen Ming stood up. The other students also left their meals and hurried towards the main hall. In the end, only Shen Ming, his servant, and Luo Cheng, who was still eating quietly, were left in the dining hall.

"Luo Xiong, aren't you coming?" Shen Ming asked as he walked a short distance away. Luo Cheng raised his eyebrows slightly. "Don't worry. I'll be there after the meal," he said without panic.

A teasing smile rose from Shen Ming's lips. He sees Luo Cheng, like a beggar on the streets. "Your wish," Shen Ming muttered in a contemptuous tone and proudly walked out of the dining hall.

Even as Luo Cheng walked into the resplendent main hall, it was filled with over three hundred new disciples. 

The hall was built on twelve huge pillars and they were very high. On the wooden ceiling of the hall were painted pictures about the history of the Wen clan. The long hall was lit by an immeasurable amount of candlelight and almost all the windows were closed. Ahead was a large platform. It was painted gold and five people were sitting on its seats.

They were the five masters of the Wen sect. Sitting upright in the center was Shi Xieren, Lord of Juyao Peak. He was the regular leader of the Wen sect and had a fleshy body with few prominent features. He was dressed in dark blue and black mixed robes, the colors of Juyao Peak, and wore a golden waistband. This was the only thing common to the entire Wen sect, this sash, embroidered with a design of a spark of fire on a golden background, set a disciple of the Wen sect apart from others.

Sitting on either side of him, on the left and right, respectively, were Shensheng Peak Lord Wang Xuegang and Chuangzhou Peak Lord San Yumo.

Wang Xuegang was a peaceful-looking middle-aged man wearing bright blue robes. San Yumo was a young-looking man dressed in crimson and starring towards the crowd. Chief San Yumo was well known for his fierce temper.

Then the people sitting on the corners of the stage were Sha Diren Peak Lord Gu Yin and Jun Peak Lord Shen Guo. Gu Yin was wearing an all-black outfit and looked at the crowd with a big kind smile on his face. Shen Guo was dressed in a brown and white robe and looked at the crowd with emotionless eyes.

Luo Cheng could feel the pressure in the hall even only from the peak heads.

"Silence!" A majestic voice echoed throughout the hall, silencing everyone. The people behind rose to their feet and struggled to know who was speaking. The young man was unmistakably handsome, standing upright next to the twin effulgent statues made of stone below the stage. Clear, tall, and slender features, eyes like collapsing stars, long eyelashes, could this be anyone but the main disciple of Juyao Peak?

His name was Wu Xuan. With a smile almost always on his face, he looked not like a kind person but like a hunter waiting to meet prey at any moment. If the disciples of the Wen Sect respected someone after their shizun the most, it was this Wu Shixiong. Rolling his sharp eyes across the hall, Wu Xuan raised his voice again.

"All of you have passed the entrance exam." His voice was high and solemn.

"But-" Suddenly, interrupting his voice, the large doors of the hall opened, and everyone's attention turned towards it.

 A young man in his seventies, wearing a brown outer robe mixed with white, crept fearfully into the hall. On his face, was a mask that completely covered the features above his nose. On either side of the mask, a design took the form of a bird with its wings spread, and through its eye holes, a fearful hazel eyes peered down the hall.