The Exam Begins

Year 38 of the Ming Dynasty, April 7th.

Outside the City God Temple in Qingyuan City.

Today was the day of the preliminary martial arts trials. The dynasty's initial intention in widely distributing cultivation resources was to offer a sliver of hope to impoverished martial artists.

But on the bluestone-paved square, it was reduced to the most naked struggle for survival—over three hundred people, a dense mass, their eyes burning with desire, anxiety, and the ruthless desperation of those with nothing left to lose.

On the high platform, officials in solemn robes, their colors denoting rank, were the arbiters and observers of the rules.

Below them were the examinees who had wagered their entire fortunes.

Practicing martial arts was a money-devouring beast. Meat and fine grains were the bare minimum, while Qi and Blood Powder and Qi and Blood Pills were the ladders to climb higher.

For most, the cultivation resources and silver coins provided by the court weren't a bonus; they were a lifeline, medicine to sustain their lives.

For this, striving desperately was their only bargaining chip.

Cui Hao stood in the queue, his breathing steady. He hoped he wouldn't face opponents in the second round whose eyes already held a "madness."

--People pushed to the brink would do anything.

On the sides of the square, wealthy households and influential clans had set up seats under umbrellas. Ordinary citizens were kept at the periphery.

"Second Sister," Hu Miao, the youngest of the Hu Family, asked in a low voice, standing on tiptoe amidst the crowd, "Can... Brother-in-law do it?"

Her voice carried the unique timidity and curiosity of a young girl.

Hu Zhi glanced at the candidates on the field, their muscles bulging and their auras fierce. She shook her head, her tone as flat as if discussing the weather, "He's just here to make up the numbers."

"Then why are we here?"

"I've picked someone," Hu Zhi's gaze landed somewhere specific, "Three taels of silver a month. We should at least see if the stone we throw makes a ripple."

"Three taels?!" Hu Miao's eyes widened. First in surprise, then she nervously looked around, "Does Father know?"

"Shh—" Hu Zhi placed a finger on her lips, her eyes warning, "Keep it to yourself."

"Who is it?" Hu Miao peered curiously.

Before Hu Zhi could answer, a slightly aged but robust voice cut in, "Hu Zhi? Miao'er? What are you two doing here?"

The sisters turned. It was their maternal uncle, Zhu Gui, a lean old man with sharp eyes.

Hu Zhi hesitated slightly and whispered, "Uncle, I'm privately sponsoring a martial artist, Cui Hao from Willow Tree Village."

"Willow Tree Village?" Zhu Gui stroked his goatee, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. "That poor little village outside the north of the city? Zhi'er, it's not that I want to pour cold water on you, but this money might just be thrown away."

"Uncle," Hu Zhi pursed her lips, not arguing, "Don't tell Father about this."

"Your father..." Zhu Gui snorted and waved his hand, "A blockhead, no need to mention him."

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

Three heavy drumbeats, like muffled thunder striking the earth.

Immediately after, the drumming intensified, rumbling across the square. Each beat felt like it was striking the gaps in people's heartbeats, stretching the air to its limit. The cacophony in the field instantly died down to a dead silence, leaving only the sound of the wind and the drums.

The drumming stopped abruptly, its resonance humming.

The chief examiner stood up. His gaze swept the crowd like cold lightning. His voice was not loud, but each word was clear, piercing everyone's ears.

"In the examination grounds, only skill matters! Swords and sabers have no eyes, and life and death are matters of fate! Those who cheat or falsify will be severely punished!"

He paused, then gathered his breath and roared, "Begin!"

Mortal Martial grounds, first round: Strength.

The rules were brutally simple: archery.

A one-stone bow required one hundred and twenty jin of force to draw fully. Passing half the draw counted as one attempt.

Bow strengths ranged from one stone to twelve stones. Regardless of realm, only the heaviest drawn and the most attempts counted. The top performers would advance, the rest eliminated.

Simple, crude, efficient.

Cui Hao calmly observed the examinees taking the stage. Zhou Hua and Jiang Jie from his martial arts school went up one after another.

Jiang Jie barely managed to draw a two-stone bow twice before leaving the stage with a pale face.

Zhou Hua gave her all, drawing a three-stone bow only once. Her steps were unsteady as she stepped down, her eyes filled with unwillingness.

In the Mortal Martial Realm, drawing a three-stone bow three times was considered stable. She knew in her heart that her chances were slim.

It was the turn of Xiao Li's team. He strode onto the stage, his steps as steady as a mountain, immediately drawing many gazes, including those of several martial arts school masters on the distant viewing stands.

"Master Xu, is this your personal disciple?" Qian Zhendong of the Qian Family Martial Arts School squinted and observed, "His steps are solid, his qi and blood are contained but not revealed. Is he at the peak of the Mortal Martial Realm?"

Xu Dian's lips curved imperceptibly. He stroked his beard and said, "He was fortunate enough to break through the day before yesterday. He just made it in time."

"Peak Mortal Martial Realm. He should be among the top performers in the first round," He Fulin, who specialized in leg techniques, nodded. "However, the real test is in the second round. Brother Xu, how is your disciple's combat experience?"

"Passable," Xu Dian's gaze was fixed on the stage. "This child is willing to put in the hard work."

On stage, Xiao Li had already grasped a three-stone reinforced bow. He lowered his stance, sat like a horse, exhaled loudly, and the muscles in his arms suddenly bulged!

"Heng—!"

The bowstring let out a teeth-grinding groan as he defiantly drew it to a full moon!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four consecutive times! Each time drawn to the fullest! On the final draw, veins bulged on his forehead, his face turned red, and his roar was hoarse.

The three-stone bow, drawn four times in a row! An impressive feat.

The disciples of Hongzhan Martial School below the stage let out hushed murmurs, and some wealthy patrons in the stands showed flickers of interest.

Xu Dian slowly exhaled, a look of satisfaction on his face.

Qian and He cupped their fists in congratulations.

Xiao Li lowered his bow, his breathing slightly ragged, but his movements remained steady as he bowed to the examiner.

"Next group, take the stage!"

Cui Hao, along with three other candidates, stepped onto the four-tiered stone steps, their pace unhurried.

Hu Zhi leaned forward slightly in the crowd.

Xu Dian's gaze also turned to Cui Hao on the stage.

Xiao Li, having just completed his test, stood below the stage, watching quietly.

On the other side of the onlookers, a tall female martial artist with sharp eyes – Tu Yan – also looked towards Cui Hao.

Excluding external distractions, Cui Hao walked directly to the bow rack.

The longbows on the wooden rack were arranged from smallest to largest, their bodies reflecting a cold, hard sheen.

Without hesitation, he skipped the one-stone and two-stone bows. His fingers paused for a moment over the three-stone bow, but he ultimately passed it by.

He finally gripped firmly – the arm of the four-stone bow.

A cold sensation spread, the bow's body heavy, pressing down on his hand.

From the sidelines, a few very low chuckles or surprised gasps seemed to drift.

Cui Hao acted as if he heard nothing. His feet parted, adopting a stable stance, the very foundation of the Broken Fist zhuang gong (stance training).

His right hand gripped the bow arm, his left hand's three fingers nocked the string.

There was no roar, no contorted expression. Only his back tensed slightly, he exhaled, and drew the bow.

Creak--

A scalp-numbing groan from the bowstring, far heavier and more arduous than the three-stone bow, suddenly rang out!

The qi and blood within him surged like subterranean fire, his strength climbing up his spine, finally converging in his arms.

Cui Hao's knuckles turned slightly white from the exertion, his three nocking fingers like cast iron.

Thrum--

A low, teeth-grinding tremor emanated from within the bow's body, like the friction of bones before a giant beast awakens.

The arm of the four-stone bow bore unimaginable pressure, emitting faint "crack" sounds.

The bowstring tightened, transforming from a straight line into a dangerous arc. The very air seemed to freeze under this power.

But at this moment, Cui Hao's movement faltered almost imperceptibly. His body seemed to sway, and his face flushed a few shades deeper.

This fleeting illusion of "exhaustion" fell into the eyes of countless people below the stage.

The next instant, Cui Hao let out a suppressed grunt from his throat. His core tightened abruptly, and his descending spine straightened like a dragon raising its head, pulling backward!

The previously sluggish bowstring moved, responding instantly, drawing backward with a steady yet irresistible speed--

Creak-creak...

The heart-stopping sound of the string continued, emitting a sharp warning, almost as if it were about to break.

Finally, the bow arm was drawn into a full, dangerous, and perfectly beautiful arc brimming with power!

The bow was like a full moon!

The four-stone bow, drawn to its limit!

"Hiss--"

Below the stage, Xu Liqing gasped, her eyes wide, as if she were seeing this fellow disciple for the first time.

Sun Cheng stood there dumbfounded, his mouth slightly agape.

There had been precedents of Mortal Martial realm experts drawing the four-stone bow to completion, but those individuals were all from wealthy families, their core disciples cultivated through medicinal baths, possessing robust qi and an inherent arrogance in their demeanor.

But this Senior Brother Cui on stage... Sun Cheng's gaze subconsciously fell to the tips of Cui Hao's worn cloth shoes – severely frayed, almost torn.

He had actually drawn the four-stone bow!

Tu Yan's sharp gaze locked onto Cui Hao. The slight disdain and scrutiny she had felt earlier had vanished entirely, replaced by intense surprise and a hint of regret at being deceived.

This young man, who had come from a remote, impoverished region, possessed such profound potential!