Mu Jian raised a hand. "Enough. Lift your head, boy."
Tian Lei obeyed, his movements measured, neither too hurried nor too slow. His gaze rose steadily until it met the Sect Master's eyes.
Mu Jian studied him for a long moment, the silence pressing heavier than any aura. Finally, the Sect Master leaned back slightly in his seat, lips curving in a faint smile.
"You carry yourself well. That is good. Too many young cultivators confuse arrogance with strength."
One of the elders seated nearby chuckled dryly. "But his cultivation is still low, Sect Master. To stand here may not mean much—he is only leaning on Elder Haiyun's shadow."
The remark drew a few murmurs, some agreeing, others withholding judgment.
Haiyun, without opening his eyes, let out a slow breath through his nose, his staff tapping once against the floor. The sound was soft, but the elder who had spoken immediately fell silent, shoulders stiffening.
