The plaza of Qingyun Peak was paved with dark bluish-gray flagstones, each one worn smooth by the passage of years until it gleamed with a cold light. Dew clung to the edges, not yet dry, and every gust of wind carried a bone-chilling bite.
The clouds hung low, like a heavy gray cloth draped over the sky. Even the Guest-Welcoming Pine at the peak's summit looked wilted, its needles drooping and refusing to lift.
Over a hundred Menial Disciples crowded the plaza, every one of them hunching their shoulders, feet unconsciously inching backward.
Some clutched the hems of their robes, knuckles white; others stared down at their worn-out shoe tips, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Scattered whispers rose from the crowd now and then, thin as the buzz of gnats, only to be snuffed out by the wind the moment they surfaced, leaving behind nothing but the oppressive sound of shallow breathing.
"The examiner is Senior Brother Li Yan…"
A tall, lanky laborer near the back tugged at the sleeve of the person beside him, his voice trembling:
"That one's famous for looking down on everyone. Last time, some laborer accidentally blocked his path — he broke the guy's legs on the spot and had him thrown into the back mountains to feed the wolves."
The person next to him quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and shot a glance at the raised platform in the center of the plaza, face going even paler:
"Stop muttering! Can't you see Senior Brother Li Yan is looking this way?"
Every gaze snapped toward the platform at once.
Atop the high platform.
A young man in a moon-white brocade robe lounged sideways in a grand master's chair, silver-threaded clouds embroidered along the hem, swaying gently with his movements.
He twirled a jade thumb ring between his fingers, and when his gaze swept across the plaza, it carried the chill of ice shards.
Every laborer his eyes landed on couldn't help but shudder.
This was Li Yan — a figure of considerable standing among the inner disciples.
Word had recently spread that he had broken through to the seventh level of the Qi Refinement Realm, and the Spiritual Energy that wreathed his body carried a sharp, cutting edge.
Li Yan slowly straightened in his seat and cleared his throat.
The sound wasn't loud, yet it carried a piercing clarity, landing squarely in every ear. The plaza fell instantly silent.
"Not long ago, I heard something rather interesting." Li Yan's gaze swept the crowd, the corner of his mouth curling into a half-smile. "Among the Menial Disciples of our Verdant Wood Sect, there is apparently someone who managed to defeat Li Baode — a Pill Hall disciple."
The moment those words left his mouth, a stir rippled through the plaza.
Eyes went wide; people leaned in to whisper to one another.
"Li Baode? The one who throws his weight around in Pill Hall because his uncle is a steward?"
"I heard about this! A while back he was beaten so badly he was bedridden for over ten days — nobody was even watching the pill furnaces. So it was a Menial Disciple who did it?"
"Who had the guts? Aren't they afraid of retaliation?" The murmuring buzzed like a swarm of startled bees.
Li Yan raised a hand to quiet them, and the noise died down again, leaving only the soft rustle of wind through pine branches.
"Ordinarily, Menial Disciples in my eyes are nothing more than lazy, freeloading insects." Li Yan's words dripped with contempt, and as his gaze swept over the crowd, more than a few laborers bowed their heads in shame.
"But to my surprise, there is apparently a promising talent who has been diligently cultivating. It would be a waste to leave such a disciple buried among the laborers. Starting today, I am making the call — whoever defeated Li Baode shall be directly promoted to Outer Sect Disciple."
Whoosh!
The plaza erupted.
Envious, shocked, and curious gazes swept back and forth through the crowd, everyone trying to spot the person who had struck such lucky fortune.
But in the midst of the crowd, Xiaodouzi's expression suddenly changed. He grabbed Chen Yang's arm, his voice on the verge of tears:
"We're done for, Brother Chen — Li Yan is definitely here to cause trouble!"
Chen Yang furrowed his brow, his fingertips absently rubbing the cuff of his sleeve.
When he had first joined the sect, he'd had a run-in with three of Zhao Yanran's senior brothers. He had been deliberately holding back ever since, and had assumed that Li Yan was targeting him because of Zhao Yanran.
But Xiaodouzi's words made his heart lurch:
"Why do you say that?"
Xiaodouzi stomped his feet anxiously, glanced around, and lowered his voice:
"Why? Because Li Yan is Li Baode's own cousin! Think about it — Li Baode gets beaten up, and you expect his cousin to just let it go?"
Boom. Something exploded in Chen Yang's mind.
He suddenly recalled Liu Yiyi's earlier warning.
Behind Li Baode stood an uncle who served as a steward overseeing outer disciples' affairs — a cultivator at the seventh level of the Qi Refinement Realm.
He hadn't paid it much mind at the time, but now it all clicked into place — this was an elaborate trap, one scheme nested inside another!
The steward uncle, constrained by his position, couldn't afford to personally move against a Menial Disciple. So he had enlisted his nephew Li Yan — an inner disciple — to come deal with Chen Yang instead.
No wonder Li Yan had brought up Li Baode right away, and even announced he would directly promote "whoever defeated Li Baode." It was all designed to draw Chen Yang out into the open!
Chen Yang clenched his fist, knuckles whitening, his heart gripped by shock, fury, and a creeping dread.
Thank goodness Xiaodouzi had warned him. Otherwise, he might have foolishly stepped forward himself.
Xiaodouzi was still muttering beside him, voice thick with anxiety:
"Who on earth was it? How could someone be so blind — of all people to provoke, why pick that fat pig Li Baode? His backing is enormous. Not only does he have a steward uncle, he has an inner disciple cousin. That's just asking to die!"
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Chen Yang said nothing, his gaze fixed on Li Yan atop the platform, his mind racing through possible countermoves.
All he wanted today was to be promoted to Outer Sect Disciple. He had no desire to get into any further conflict with Zhao Yanran's senior brothers.
But before he could think of anything, Li Yan suddenly spoke from the platform, his voice cutting straight toward Chen Yang:
"Junior Brother Chen, how long do you intend to keep waiting?"
Before the words had even faded, a streak of white light flew down from the platform, shooting directly at Chen Yang.
Chen Yang instinctively reached out and caught it. It was ice-cold in his palm — a jade token the size of his hand, engraved with the characters for "Outer Sect," faintly suffused with Spiritual Energy.
"From this day forward, Chen Yang is an Outer Sect Disciple." Li Yan's voice carried an unquestionable authority, his gaze settling on Chen Yang with an expression that was difficult to read.
The plaza went dead silent, then erupted in a chorus of sharp intakes of breath.
"It's Chen Yang?"
"My heavens — he actually beat Li Baode?"
"He didn't even go through any trials and he's already an Outer Sect Disciple? What incredible luck!"
Envious stares surged toward him like a tide, eyes fixed hungrily on the jade token in Chen Yang's hand.
The few laborers who shared the same medicine garden as Chen Yang wore complicated expressions — envy, jealousy, and disbelief all tangled together.
Xiaodouzi was stunned as well. He stared at Chen Yang with wide eyes, mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg:
"Brother Chen… you're the one who injured Li Baode?"
Chen Yang tightened his grip on the jade token, its cold surface pressing painfully into his palm.
He knew there was no hiding it now. He gave a small, quiet nod.
The fine texture of the jade token was clear beneath his fingertips, its carved patterns distinct — yet Chen Yang felt not a shred of joy.
He raised his head and looked at Li Yan on the platform. The man was watching him with that same half-smile, the malice in his eyes barely contained.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Li Yan was Li Baode's cousin — so why would he be so "generous" as to promote him?
There was definitely a trap here.
Alarm bells rang furiously in Chen Yang's mind, and a thought flashed through him in an instant — take advantage of the fact that no one was blocking him yet, get off Qingyun Peak, and return to his quarters to regroup.
He had just started to shift his feet when someone in the crowd suddenly called out:
"Senior Brother Li! Now that Senior Brother Chen has become an Outer Sect Disciple, what are our trials?"
The question hit home for everyone. All eyes turned to the platform, filled with anticipation.
The annual trials for Menial Disciples to advance to Outer Sect Disciple were notoriously grueling — they had all braced themselves for hardship. But now that Chen Yang had taken a "shortcut," surely their own trials couldn't simply be cancelled?
Li Yan said nothing. Instead, Lin Yang, who had been standing silently beside him, suddenly smiled.
Lin Yang was dressed in snow-white inner disciple robes, a cold, sinister smile playing on his face. He stepped forward and spoke in a loud, clear voice:
"Perhaps you are unaware, but our Verdant Wood Sect has an old rule: a Menial Disciple may challenge an Outer Sect Disciple, and if they win, they advance directly. The same applies when an Outer Sect Disciple challenges an inner disciple — as long as the difference in cultivation is no more than three minor realms, the challenge from below is permitted."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the Menial Disciples in the plaza, his smile growing colder:
"Today's trial is to challenge Chen Yang."
"What?" Someone cried out in disbelief.
Only then did Li Yan slowly nod, his tone brooking no argument:
"That's right. Defeat Chen Yang today, and you will all become Outer Sect Disciples."
The plaza fell utterly silent. Even the sound of the wind was audible. Everyone stared at one another, faces frozen in shock and hesitation.
The laborers who shared Chen Yang's medicine garden looked especially conflicted.
They saw Chen Yang every single day. Some had even received his help before. Now they were being told to raise their hands against him — how could they bring themselves to do it?
Xiaodouzi was dumbstruck as well. He opened his mouth but couldn't find any words, and instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from the crowd.
Chen Yang's heart sank with a heavy thud, and the realization hit him all at once.
He tightened his grip on the jade token, knuckles going white from the force, his expression darkening.
What a vicious scheme!
Li Yan and Lin Yang had planned this from the start. They knew that the moment he was promoted to Outer Sect Disciple, he would become a target for everyone. So they had devised this method — turning the Menial Disciples against him, forcing them to tear each other apart!
What wouldn't these Menial Disciples do for a chance to advance to Outer Sect? When the time came, Li Yan wouldn't even need to lift a finger — they would rip him apart themselves!
"Move!" Li Yan's voice suddenly turned cold, edged with impatience.
"What's the matter? Has no one any desire to become an Outer Sect Disciple? If no one acts, then starting today, I will revoke your status as laborers and drive every last one of you off the mountain!" Those words struck like a thunderclap, detonating in every heart.
The Menial Disciples in the plaza panicked instantly. Some went pale as sheets; others trembled all over.
"Please, no, Senior Brother Li! I don't want to leave the mountain!" A middle-aged laborer suddenly dropped to his knees, his voice cracking with sobs. "I've been on this mountain for fifteen years. My family is long gone. What would I do if I went back down?"
"Same here! My talent is poor — all I can do is be a laborer — but I want to cultivate! I want to pursue the immortal path!" Another younger laborer grew frantic, eyes red with desperation.
Most of these laborers had come to the mountain with nowhere else to go — some from poverty, some orphans, all of them long since cut off from the ordinary world.
Being cast off the mountain was worse than death to them.
And no matter how poor their talent, each of them harbored a dream of cultivation in their hearts. How could they accept being driven away just like that?
"To hell with it! It's just a fight! For a spot as an Outer Sect Disciple, I'll take the hit!" A powerfully built laborer suddenly bellowed, snatching up a wooden staff from the ground and charging straight at Chen Yang.
His face was set with fierce resolve, his eyes blazing with desperate hunger:
"Senior Brother Chen, I'm sorry! I've been trying to pass the advancement trials for ten years. This spot — I have to take it!"
With one person leading the charge, the others ignited like kindling.
"I'm going for it too! I'm sick of planting herbs every single day — that's no life to live!"
"Senior Brother Chen, no offense! Just lie down quietly — we're all doing this for the advancement!"
"Get out of my way! That Outer Sect spot is mine!"
One, two, three… before long, seven or eight laborers had surged forward, armed with wooden staffs, hoes, and some bare-handed, eyes wild with desperation.
Then another dozen or more followed, the dense crowd closing in around Chen Yang like a pack of starving wolves surrounding prey.
Chen Yang stood his ground and did not move.
He watched the crowd rushing toward him, his expression complex.
He recognized faces among them — Wang Laosan, who had worked alongside him planting herbs in the medicine garden; Liu Er, who had helped him carry things not long ago; and others…
These people had always been polite to him, some had even received his kindness. Yet now, for the sake of an Outer Sect spot, they were turning on him with drawn blades.
The human heart, it seemed, truly could not withstand the test.
Xiaodouzi stood frozen in place, watching the crowd surge forward, then looking back at Chen Yang, his face ashen, his body trembling slightly.
He wanted to step forward, but didn't dare. All he could do was clutch the hem of his robe, eyes filled with anguish.
Up on the platform, Li Yan noticed Xiaodouzi. His gaze settled on him, carrying the cold weight of a command:
"You. Go as well."
Xiaodouzi flinched violently. He looked up, met Li Yan's icy stare, stumbled back a step in fright, and shook his head, voice breaking into a sob:
"No… I won't! Brother Chen has always looked out for me. I can't raise my hand against him!"
"Oh?"
Li Yan's expression darkened instantly, a flash of murderous intent crossing his eyes.
"You dare defy my orders?"
Before the words had finished, Li Yan suddenly swept his hand through the air.
An invisible surge of Spiritual Energy shot out, and with a sharp crack, it slammed into Xiaodouzi's chest.
Xiaodouzi let out a muffled grunt as a mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips, splattering across the dark flagstones in a vivid, jarring red.
His body flew backward like a kite with a snapped string, crashing heavily to the ground. He struggled to get up, but found every ounce of strength had left him, a searing pain erupting from his dantian.
His cultivation — the second level of the Qi Refinement Realm, meager as it was — had been crippled!
Xiaodouzi let out a wail and burst into tears, the wetness mixing with the blood at the corner of his mouth and streaming down his cheeks, a sight that was utterly heartbreaking:
"My cultivation… my cultivation is gone…"
The color drained from Chen Yang's face.
He snapped his head up and fixed his gaze on Li Yan and Lin Yang atop the platform, his eyes blazing as though they could shoot fire.
He clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms, drawing blood that seeped between his fingers — yet he felt no pain.
A torrent of rage surged up from the depths of his chest, molten as lava, nearly shattering the last of his reason.
Xiaodouzi was so simple and kind — he wouldn't even step on an ant in his daily life. And yet, simply for refusing to raise his hand against Chen Yang, Li Yan had crippled his cultivation!
Li Yan. Lin Yang. How utterly ruthless you are.
Chen Yang stared at the two men on the platform, teeth grinding together with an audible creak, the Spiritual Energy around his body beginning to churn and roil, even the strands of his hair rising slightly with the force of his fury.