Wang Zhuo, too, was struck dumb by the sight before him. Only after a long while did he finally come back to his senses, the arrogance within him having quietly receded by a great deal.
At this moment, several more streaks of rainbow sword-light came sweeping in. As each beam dissipated, a disciple of the Hengyue Sect would emerge, and without exception, each was accompanied by a handful of youths no older than fifteen or sixteen.
These people, men and women alike, were at the moment of their descent just like Wang Lin and the other two — staring blankly at the scene before them, each wearing a different expression on their face.
The Hengyue Sect disciples who had escorted the group here stood scattered not far away, chatting among themselves as they appraised the young men. After a further wait, all the youths who had been recommended to this place finally assembled. The middle-aged man in black swept his gaze across the crowd, his voice carrying no trace of emotion, and said: "Among you, only a very select few will be chosen to become disciples of my Hengyue Sect."
The youths fell into a hushed, fearful silence, and Wang Lin's heart was even more unsettled. He counted—forty-eight in total were to be tested.
"In Cultivation, natural aptitude reigns supreme. The first test will determine whether your Spiritual Roots are sufficient. Whoever I call, step forward." The middle-aged man's expression remained impassive as he casually pointed to a youth.
The youth's legs trembled slightly as he stepped forward with careful, measured steps. The middle-aged man pressed his hand atop the boy's head and said with indifference, "Unqualified. Go stand on the left."
The young man seemed to lose all his strength at once, his expression dim and his eyes vacant, as he walked silently to the left without a word.
Then another youth was called upon, and he stepped forward with nervous apprehension.
"Unqualified."
"Unqualified."
"Unqualified."
More than ten people in a row — all disqualified. To the middle-aged man's right, not a single person stood.
Wang Zhuo was called upon. The arrogance drained from his face, leaving it somewhat pale, as he stepped forward.
After the middle-aged man placed his hand on Wang Zhuo's head, a look of delight suddenly crossed his face. In a gentle tone, he asked, "What is your name?"
Wang Zhuo hastily replied with reverence, "In answer to the Exalted Immortal, this junior is Wang Zhuo."
The middle-aged man nodded and said with a smile, "So you are Wang Zhuo, the one Martial Uncle Daoxu mentioned. Good—go stand on the right."
Wang Zhuo was overjoyed. Amid the envious gazes of all present, he strode to the right side, arrogance once again rising in his eyes as he swept a contemptuous glance over the crowd, his bearing one of supreme disdain.
"Damn, that bastard just got incredibly lucky." Wang Hao curled his lip and muttered to Wang Lin.
Wang Lin's heart grew even more tense. The expectant gazes of his parents rose before his eyes, and he clenched his fists.
"Not bad — you stand to the right as well." The middle-aged man's voice carried a note of pleasant surprise. Before him stood a young girl.
Not much time had passed before most of the young men had been tested, yet only two stood to the right of the middle-aged man. Next, Wang Hao was called forward.
Wang Hao trotted over and stood before the middle-aged man. Without even waiting for his turn to be tested, he immediately dropped to his knees and kowtowed several times with loud, resounding thuds, calling out at the top of his voice: "May the Exalted Immortal enjoy eternal immortal blessings and a lifespan equal to the heavens! This young one, Wang Hao, humbly observes — you have tested so many people today, you must be terribly weary. Why not take a rest for a while? There is no rush on my part, truly, none at all."
The middle-aged man couldn't help but laugh. He had tested so many people, and every single one of them had worn a nervous expression — yet this boy before him was bright-eyed and full of spirit, the most quick-witted of the lot, and had even resorted to flattery. Pressing his hand down on Wang Hao's head, he shook it and said: "Your aptitude is a bit lacking. Not…"
The moment Wang Hao heard that his aptitude was lacking, his heart plummeted into despair. Before the other party could even finish speaking, he reached into his robes, produced a jade box, and offered it up with both hands. With quick-witted charm, he said, "Exalted Immortal, my father once chanced upon this in the mountains. Despite many attempts, no one has ever been able to open it. I brought it from home especially to present it to you."
The middle-aged man chuckled and shook his head, about to refuse—but his gaze swept across the jade box, and his pupils abruptly contracted. He snatched it up for a closer look, and delight immediately spread across his face. "Not bad at all," he said. "A three-hundred-year-old Spiritual Ganoderma, no less. From the look of this jade box, it must have been sealed inside by a cultivator—no wonder your father couldn't open it." He paused, mulling it over briefly, then smiled and said, "I happen to be in need of a young attendant for my pill-refining. You strike me as quite sharp. Would you be willing to serve as my page?"
Wang Hao was immediately overcome with delight; the dramatic reversal left him beside himself with excitement, and he cried out, "Yes! Exalted Immortal, I am willing!"
The middle-aged man nodded with a smile and said, "As my herb boy, you won't be treated poorly — you may cultivate the Sect's immortal arts just as the other disciples do. Stand on the right."
Wang Hao's heart surged with excitement. He ran to the right side and shot Wang Zhuo a smug, triumphant glare.
All who had failed wore looks of shared dejection, each one hanging their head in low spirits; some had already dissolved into tears, weeping without end.
The middle-aged man's brow furrowed, and he barked, "Those who weep — remove them at once!"
Several disciples of the Hengyue Sect standing not far off immediately stepped forward, seized the wailing ones, and nonchalantly riding their sword-light, vanished in an instant.
The middle-aged man pointed casually, and his finger landed on Wang Lin.
Wang Lin took a deep breath and walked over to the middle-aged man, his heart pounding with anxiety. His mind had gone completely blank; he prayed in silence, unable to keep his eyes from filling with the image of his parents' expectant gazes.
"I will definitely be chosen!" Wang Lin thought with conviction.
The other party pressed a hand down and, stone-faced, spat out three words that sent Wang Lin plunging into an icy abyss.
"Unqualified!"
Wang Lin had no idea how he came to find himself walking into the left-hand line. He only felt a roar like spring thunder filling his ears, rolling and surging in wave after wave, every echo wrapped in nothing but those three words.
Before long, everyone had been tested. Of all those present, only three stood on the right side — and in the eyes of those who had failed, these three seemed like heaven's chosen, impossibly tall and magnificent.
Wang Zhuo looked at Wang Lin with undisguised contempt, the mockery in his eyes laid bare for all to see.
"In Cultivation, talent is important, but perseverance is even more critical. You young ones of ordinary aptitude — if you possess perseverance, you may yet become registered disciples! This second trial tests precisely that — perseverance!" The middle-aged man's expression remained impassive. He paused, then continued: "Ascend the stairway before you and reach the summit to pass. Should you still fail to complete it by the third day, you will have failed, and those who fail will be sent back to their respective clans. If at any point you can no longer endure, or find yourself in danger, shout aloud that you surrender — someone will come and take you away."
With that, the middle-aged man smiled and turned to the three on his right, saying, "Come with me to meet the Sect Master—mentors will be arranged for you then. Wang Hao, no need for you to go; follow me to the pill chamber instead and get familiar with the work."
Having finished his instructions, the middle-aged man led the three heaven's chosen ones up the mountain peak and vanished without a trace.
Wang Lin took a deep breath, his gaze resolute, and without a moment's hesitation stepped toward the stone steps to face the second trial—Perseverance.
Excluding the three heaven's favored sons and the six youths who had been sent away for crying, thirty-nine remained.
Among these thirty-nine, some hung their heads in dejection, others wore expressions of steely resolve, and still others wavered in fear and hesitation. At their own pace, one after another, they stepped onto the stairway and walked toward futures that would each be their own.