A cool breeze swept through the bamboo forest.
The leaves whispered softly, like a distant memory trying to speak. Wulian sat cross-legged on the wooden patio, his eyes half-lidded as he stared at the reflection of the koi pond. The koi swam leisurely, gliding through the water like celestial beings in miniature, their scales catching the golden light of the late afternoon.
A faint scent of plum blossoms drifted in from somewhere unseen, mixing with the earthy aroma of old bamboo and polished wood.
The peace was heavy—pleasant, but almost oppressive.
"You've been staring at those fish for three hours,"
the System chimed, its voice casual but with that subtle digital undertone, like a scholar who refused to raise his tone even when irritated.
Wulian blinked slowly.
"Three hours?" he muttered. "I was meditating."
"You were absolutely not meditating,"
the System replied, almost smug.
"Your brainwaves registered as 100% idle. That's what mortals call 'spacing out.'"
Wulian didn't respond right away. He tilted his head to one side, watching a particularly fat koi try to chase a dragonfly, only to give up and float lazily again.
"There's something comforting about watching lives that have no ambition," he finally said. "No destiny. No cosmic responsibilities. Just… being."
"Touching. Very poetic. Shall I log that quote under 'Profound Thoughts of the Supreme Being'?"
He smirked. "You can, if you add an asterisk that says I was possibly sleep-deprived."
"Logged."
There was a short silence again, broken only by the gentle splash of water and the soft rustle of the wind.
Then, the System's voice returned—this time more serious.
"It's been a week since you created the foundations of the Hidden Court. Would you like to begin selecting your first field operatives?"
Wulian finally stood, stretching his arms behind his head. His robe, loose and lightly embroidered, fluttered around his ankles.
"Yes," he said. "Bring up the candidates."
A flicker of light materialized midair—thin, elegant lines forming a floating screen. Dozens of portraits shimmered into view, each framed with details, statistics, histories, and essence signatures.
Wulian's gaze scanned the list, but his focus narrowed on three individuals already marked by the System.
"Per your preferences, I shortlisted three core candidates. One brawler, one tactician, and one… wildcard."
"Wildcard?" Wulian raised an eyebrow.
"Unpredictable. Powerful. Possibly deranged. A perfect match for you, if I may say."
The first was Jinhai—a towering man whose body was sculpted like a divine weapon. His origin traced back to an ancient bloodline of war titans, but he had severed ties with his clan decades ago. His eyes burned with loyalty and impulse. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it was with fists and fury. The kind of subordinate who would destroy a city without hesitation if it meant fulfilling a mission.
"Hmm. He'll be useful for enforcing," Wulian muttered.
Next was Suyin—a scholar turned strategist, rumored to have once defeated a sect with nothing but her words and three silver needles. She wore elegant robes and glasses that glinted ominously even in the dark. Calculating, controlled, and alarmingly persuasive, she was the mind behind a dozen power shifts in the Mortal World.
"She's dangerous," Wulian said. "I like her."
And the third… a woman named Mei Lian.
No clear origin. No lineage. No sect affiliation. Her abilities were fragmented—raw, unstable, and oddly attuned to fate. She appeared mortal, but her spirit was filled with flickers of divine flame, chaos, and cold serenity. Her dossier included a single note: 'She knows things she shouldn't.'
"Wildcard indeed."
"Would you like to meet them directly, or use avatars?"
Wulian folded his arms.
"No. Send messengers. I want to see how they react before I speak to them. Let the Court feel intangible. We're not a sect. We're a myth."
"Understood."
He stepped off the patio, bare feet sinking slightly into the warm, mossy ground. Above him, the sky swirled with gentle colors—no sun, no moon, just an eternal glow set by his own will.
He walked slowly, heading toward a valley in the distance where the headquarters of the Hidden Court had begun to take shape.
Massive stone halls were being constructed by golems and ancient spirit beasts, their hands imbued with divine inscriptions. Trees were being carved into watchtowers. Mountains were shifting their roots to create natural barriers. The heart of the Hidden Court was becoming real.
But for Wulian, this was still just the quiet before the scheme.
Soon, threads would be pulled. Kingdoms would tilt. Celestial minds would stir.
And none of them would know who moved the pieces.