This day.
The morning mist over the Stele Forest had yet to disperse.
Pale golden sunlight filtered through the branches of thousand-year-old cypress trees, scattering dappled light and shadows across the bluestone pavement.
Bai Ye had just finished inspecting the final row of stone steles.
On those Divine Iron Steles engraved with ancient names, condensed dewdrops slid down the patterns etched into the stone, spreading into tiny patches of moisture on the ground.
He had just raised a hand to brush away a fallen leaf from one of the steles when an aged call came from behind him.
"Bai Ye."
Bai Ye turned and saw Elder Liu leaning on a mottled wooden staff as he slowly approached from the direction of the courtyard.
A century seemed to have left even deeper marks upon him.
His back, already hunched, had bent even further. The wrinkles on his face crisscrossed like ravines, and nearly all his hair had turned white.
The aura around him was also far weaker than before, like a guttering candle in the wind that might go out at any moment.
He walked up to Bai Ye, coughed twice, and said in a voice thick with exhaustion, "You have been in the sect for a century. Other than inspecting the Stele Forest, you have never taken a single step beyond this southwestern corner."
Bai Ye lowered his eyes. "Elder, this junior has devoted himself wholeheartedly to cultivation and has no other thoughts for now."
"Cultivation requires stillness, but it also requires movement."
Elder Liu shook his head and gazed toward the sect's Main Peak, a distant look flashing in his eyes. "Three days from now, the sect will hold a grand competition for disciples under a thousand years of cultivation. The victors can obtain an entrance slot to the