The Skyward Lotus Sect buzzed with a frenetic energy, a hive of activity preparing for the arrival of dignitaries from neighboring sects. Disciples scurried like ants, their arms laden with vibrant banners depicting the sect's lotus blossom insignia. Lanterns, painted with auspicious symbols, swayed from newly erected bamboo frames, casting a warm, inviting glow across the meticulously swept courtyards. The air thrummed with anticipation, a palpable tension underlying the forced smiles and hurried greetings.
Tian Hao, however, found himself strangely detached from the flurry of activity. He'd been assigned the seemingly simple task of overseeing the courtyard decorations, a role intended to keep him occupied and out of trouble, but even this seemingly menial task proved challenging.
"No, no, not like that!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in exasperation as a group of younger disciples struggled to hang a particularly elaborate banner. "The tassels are supposed to face east, towards the rising sun, to symbolize prosperity! Do you want to curse us with bad luck?"
The disciples, clearly intimidated by his unexpected outburst of authority, fumbled with the silk banner, their faces a mixture of confusion and fear. They adjusted the banner hastily, their hands trembling slightly as they tried to appease the young master, their earlier annoyance replaced with nervous apprehension. Tian Hao sighed, rubbing his temples. Even the simplest tasks seemed to require herculean efforts. He longed for the quiet serenity of his hidden garden, the comforting presence of Lin Mei, and the delicious distractions provided by Fatty Wu.
He paced the courtyard, his gaze scanning the decorations, a growing sense of unease settling in his stomach. This feast was more than just a celebration; it was a crucial test for the Skyward Lotus Sect, a chance to prove their strength and stability to the watchful eyes of their neighbors. His father's words echoed in his mind – "We cannot afford any mistakes." The weight of that responsibility, a burden he had previously shrugged off, now pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Lost in his thoughts, Tian Hao almost missed the sight of a group of disciples struggling to put up a banner across the courtyard. His brow furrowed as he watched one of them wobble precariously on a stool, the banner unfurling unevenly. A sigh escaped his lips, snapping him out of his reverie.
"No, no, that's too high," Tian Hao called out, waving his hand. "You need it lower, so people can actually read it."
The disciples looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and resignation, adjusted the banner.
"No, no, not that low," Tian Hao interjected again, shaking his head. "Do you want people to walk into it?!"
One of the disciples let out an audible sigh, muttering, "I swear, he's never satisfied." Another disciple, trying to be helpful, suggested, "Maybe if we angle it a bit—"
Tian Hao's eyes narrowed. "Angle it? Are we trying to hang an art installation here or just put up a banner? Straight, but not so low people can use it as a headband!"
The disciples exchanged weary glances, one of them whispering under his breath, "If we survive this, we're demanding extra rations."
After what seemed like the tenth adjustment, Tian Hao finally gave them a lazy thumbs-up. "Perfect. See? Easy."
The disciples glared at him, one of them mouthing, "Easy, my foot," as they trudged away to the next task.
Later that afternoon, as he made his way towards the kitchens, seeking solace in Fatty Wu's culinary creations, he passed by the sect's meeting hall. The doors were slightly ajar, and he could hear the muffled voices of his father, Elder Han, and Elder Hua. He paused, his curiosity piqued.
YOU ARE READING
This Hedonistic Young Master
FantasíaAbstract "A man who gains power through pleasure, reborn in a life where pleasure is a sin." Yu Cheng didn't sign up for this-a life of noodles, endless shifts, and envy was all he knew. But one cosmic fluke later, he's reborn as Tian Hao 2.0, the s...
