The morning mountain wind carried a damp, cool bite to it.
Gu Chengming stood at the center of the open space inside his room, flicked his wrist, and smoothly brought his sword to rest at his side.
He held still for a moment, steadying his breathing. Spiritual energy circulated through his body, traveling slowly along his meridians — and the sluggish, obstructed sensation that had plagued those pathways had largely faded.
Second-realm healing elixirs really were something else.
After only a few days of recovery, the meridians that had been so badly damaged were already repaired to about seventy or eighty percent. In fact, nourished by the medicinal properties, they were even a touch more resilient than before the injury.
In this condition, he should be more than ready for the assessment.
Right on cue, a familiar stream of chatter appeared before him.
[The Huiyuan Sword Art is urging you in the strongest possible terms: do not push yourself.]
[It says — yes, the injuries are mostly healed, but you're still fresh off the mend. Just pass the assessment and move on. Don't go trying to show off and hurt yourself all over again.]
Gu Chengming smiled and silently accepted the advice.
He knew his own limits. All he needed from this assessment was a ranking that would satisfy Elder Ren.
He tucked his wooden sword into its case, then did a quick check of his belongings — elixirs, spare spirit stones, and the like. Probably wouldn't need any of it, but better safe than sorry.
That done, he glanced out the window at the brightening sky and judged the hour was about right.
Just then, footsteps sounded from outside the courtyard, followed by a knock at the door.
"Senior Brother Gu, you up?"
Jiang Lu's voice.
Gu Chengming crossed the room and opened the door. Jiang Lu stood on the threshold in a clean, neatly pressed sect robe, his sword hanging at his waist, practically vibrating with energy. His gaze swept over Gu Chengming, taking in the healthy color in his face, and he let out a breath of relief.
"Looks like Senior Brother's made a full recovery."
Jiang Lu stepped to one side and gestured at the brightening sky.
"It's getting late. I came specially to walk with Senior Brother to the assessment grounds — I was worried you'd been resting so long you'd lost track of the date."
"Good of you to think of me."
Gu Chengming turned back to close the door and straightened his collar.
"Something like this? I'm not going to forget it. Let's go."
The two of them walked out of the small courtyard side by side and set off up the mountain path toward the main peak. The morning mist had not yet burned away, and dewdrops still clung to the ancient pines lining the path.
The Wenjian Sect was unusually lively today.
On paths that were ordinarily quiet and secluded, disciples in robes of every color were now everywhere to be seen. They moved in clusters of three and five, expressions running the full gamut.
This assessment was open to the entire sect — any disciple who met the criteria was required to attend — and that had produced a spectacle rarely seen in ordinary times.
As the two drew nearer to the main peak, the flow of people around them grew denser and denser. Jiang Lu, clearly well-practiced at navigating crowds, led the way forward, weaving around the press of bodies, and spoke over his shoulder as he went, filling Gu Chengming in on the specifics of the day's arrangements.
"The assessment is being held at the Sword-Questioning Stone. The area's wide open — more than enough room to fit dozens of spectators at once."
"And I heard that for this first showing after the new format was introduced, the sect has specifically activated several of the mountain-barrier formations around the Sword-Questioning Stone, to suppress fluctuations in spiritual energy inside the arena — so that disciples don't get carried away sparring and lose control."
Gu Chengming gave a slight nod, his gaze drifting toward the distance.
Atop the main peak, a vast white jade plaza floated above a sea of clouds.
It was enormous — every inch paved in solid white marble that caught the sunlight and gave back a warm, lustrous glow.
Around the plaza's perimeter stood dozens of stone pillars soaring into the sky, each one carved all over with intricate sword-motif patterns that radiated a faint, stern killing-intent. At the very center of the plaza stood a massive raised fighting stage, its perimeter dense with defensive sealing formations.
By now, the white jade plaza was already packed wall to wall with people.
Countless disciples had sorted themselves into formation by their respective gates, and from a distance the crowd was a dense, dark mass — a sea of heads as far as the eye could see.
"That's the Sword-Questioning Stone," Jiang Lu said, pointing.
"Supposedly that's where our Wenjian Sect's founding patriarch achieved his enlightenment. If you can make a name for yourself up there, now that would really be worth the trip."
Gu Chengming nodded, just about to ask something more, when a string of text appeared in front of him.
Perhaps triggered by the sheer density of the crowd, the Flowing Cloud Moon-Following Sword Art — which had been uncharacteristically silent — chose this moment to have a reaction.
[The Flowing Cloud Moon-Following Sword Art surveys the sword cultivators packed in on every side, and feels immediately, profoundly nauseated.]
[So many sword cultivators... disgusting.]
[Sword cultivators. Like cockroaches crawling out of a drain. If only they could all be exterminated.]
Gu Chengming nearly lost his composure.
This thing's grudge really runs deep, huh.
He ignored the Flowing Cloud Moon-Following Sword Art's muttering and turned his gaze upward toward the highest point of the Sword-Questioning Stone platform.
Up on the raised dais, the view was excellent — the entire expanse of the arena lay spread out below it.
A dozen or so grand armchairs were lined up in a row, and the various elders sat in order of seniority. In the central seat was an elderly man with white hair and beard and a kindly expression. He had said little so far today, only sat there smiling placidly as he watched the disciples below. On either side of him were the presiding elders of each peak.
At this moment, even these figures — so lofty and remote in ordinary times — were huddled together chatting.
"Ah, Senior Brother Zhao," said a purple-robed elder, cradling his teacup with a genial smile as he turned to Zhao Wuji beside him. "Word is Qingfeng Gate has turned out quite a few promising talents this year."
"That one in particular — what's his name... Li Qing, was it? I hear he's only been a member for three years and he's already brushed up against the threshold of the third realm, and on top of that he's already mastered the Azure Cloud Sword Art? Quite a prospect, quite a prospect."
Zhao Wuji heard this and allowed a measured smile onto his face, waving a hand in practiced modesty.
"Not at all, not at all — Junior Brother Wang flatters me. That kid just got lucky. A few small tricks, nothing more."
"Senior Brother Zhao is far too modest."
Elder Wang let out a hearty laugh.
"Everyone knows that the Azure Cloud Sword Art of your Qingfeng Gate has the most notoriously difficult entry requirements in the sect — a genuine marvel of a technique."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, I really wouldn't say that."
Zhao Wuji's mouth kept demurring, but the smile lines at the corners of his eyes refused to cooperate.
The various elders batted compliments back and forth, each one talking up the other's gate, and the atmosphere was agreeably warm. Their conversation made the rounds of all the major gates — but Ren Wencai, sitting at the very end of the row, seemed to have been forgotten by everyone entirely.
He was wearing a half-worn gray robe today. He held a teacup in both hands and sat with his head lowered, utterly absorbed in the task of blowing the floating tea-leaf residue off the surface of his drink.
It was only once the conversation had largely run its course that Elder Wang seemed to remember something, turned his head, and looked toward Ren Wencai.
"Oh my, almost forgot about Senior Brother Ren. Senior Brother Ren, how is Huiyuan Gate shaping up this year? Any disciples worth putting forward?"
The moment those words landed, the gazes of several nearby elders drifted over — casually, as though by coincidence.
Huiyuan Gate's standing within the sect had always been a little awkward.
In years past, Huiyuan Gate had consistently placed dead last in the assessments, and everyone had long since grown accustomed to treating it as a reliable source of after-dinner entertainment.
Hearing himself addressed, Ren Wencai finally raised his head — slowly, unhurriedly. He looked around at the assembled elders with a blank expression, then heaved a long, drawn-out sigh, his face arranging itself into a mask of absolute, bone-deep suffering.
"Ahhh, Junior Brother Wang, don't tease your senior brother like this."
Ren Wencai set down his teacup and shook his head, his tone laden with resignation.
"This year... same as always. As for rankings — I made my peace with those a long time ago. Whatever comes, comes. Just going with the flow."
As he spoke, he shook his head again for good measure, the very picture of a man whose line has died out and whose twilight years stretch bleakly ahead of him.
The assembled elders, seeing this, naturally offered a round of consoling words.
"Senior Brother Ren, there's no need to be so pessimistic — who can say how fate will turn?"
"Exactly, exactly — maybe next year will bring a real talent through the door."
"The taking part is what matters. The taking part."
A few well-meaning pleasantries were exchanged, and then everyone's attention drifted back to their own disciples.
Everyone's, that is, except Zhao Wuji's. He sat quietly where he was and said nothing.
He and Ren Wencai had been sparring — in every sense — for the better part of their lives. He knew the old man's character down to the bone.
This old schemer's signature move had always been playing the pig to eat the tiger.
When they were young, back in the days when everyone went out on training expeditions together, this old fox would always trail at the back, letting everyone else take the lead and screen ahead of him. Then, when it came to the critical moment of seizing an opportunity, he'd move faster and harder than anyone — and be the first one running.
This whole pathetic display today had a very, very familiar smell to it.
Something's off. Something's definitely off.
Zhao Wuji turned the thought over privately.
If he truly had nothing up his sleeve, he wouldn't have come up here today just to sit and absorb this kind of ribbing.
But Huiyuan Gate genuinely had no record of any talented new disciples joining in the past two years — that he had verified. The handful of new disciples they did have were all unremarkable in aptitude. The only one whose cultivation had progressed at any noteworthy pace was that Jiang Lu, and even so, the ceiling there was plainly limited — not nearly enough to make any real waves.
Turning this over in his mind, he raised his teacup and used the motion of taking a sip to mask his gaze as he swept a quiet, unhurried look down over the Huiyuan Gate disciples standing below.
Their column was sparse — a thin scatter of a few dozen people — standing out as conspicuously shabby amid the formations of the other major gates.
He looked carefully, but could not spot a single disciple whose cultivation realm stood out in any remarkable way.
Had he been overthinking it?
Down on the plaza below the dais, Gu Chengming was listlessly half-listening to Jiang Lu ramble through a stream of gossip.
Then, all at once, something made him pause. Acting on instinct, he raised his head and looked toward the high platform.
The distance was too great to make out the elders' faces — only a blurry row of silhouettes.
"What is it, Senior Brother?" Jiang Lu noticed the odd look on his face and asked.
"Nothing." Gu Chengming pulled his gaze back and shook his head.
Just at that moment, a resonant, drawn-out toll of a bell rang out across the entire Sword-Questioning Stone plaza.
"D-o-n-g——"
The crowd, buzzing with whispered conversations an instant before, went silent all at once.
The assessment had begun.
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