The Test Began

The day of the assessment had finally arrived.

However, the scene bore little resemblance to the solemn occasion the words "Sect assessment" might suggest.

There was no raised platform in the open ground at the center of the Chore Servant Courtyard, no elders there to observe, and not even a proper testing Dharma Artifact.

All they had was a lone humanoid Puppet standing in the middle of the grounds, cobbled together from some unknown metal and wood.

The Puppet stood about two men tall, its entire body a dull gray, its surface covered in old scratches and dents. A dust-coated Crystal Stone was embedded in its chest, making it look cheap and crude.

This was the Chore Servant Courtyard's Divine Artifact for assessments.

After all, the exquisite Dharma Artifacts that could precisely test talent, Spirit Roots, and cultivation required Spirit Stones each time they were activated.

Using them on a bunch of useless chore servants like them? The Sect wasn't that extravagant.

So the assessment method was brutally simple: put all your strength into a punch and hit the Puppet.

The Crystal Stone in the Puppet's chest would judge the attacker's cultivation level roughly, based on the force it endured and the faint trace of vital energy in the strike.

"Get in line, damn it! One at a time!"

Chief Steward Wang had dragged over a Grandmaster Chair and sat sprawled beneath the shade of a tree some distance away. As he picked at his ear with his pinky, he barked impatiently.

"You all know the rules, right? Only those at Body Forging seventh layer or above are qualified to take part in this afternoon's sparring."

"Anyone below Body Forging fifth layer, get your ass over to that corner and stand there. Once the assessment's done, pack your things and get out!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the lanky chore servant at the head of the line took a deep breath and nervously stepped forward.

"Ha!"

He roared, his face flushed red, and slammed his fist into the Puppet's chest with all his strength.

Thud!

A muffled sound rang out.

The Puppet didn't even sway. The Crystal Stone in its chest flickered a few times, then managed to shine with a faint white glow. Within the light, a blurry number five slowly appeared.

"Body Forging fifth layer. Pass. Next!"

Chief Steward Wang didn't even bother to lift his eyelids as he called out casually.

When the lanky chore servant saw the number five, his legs gave way, and wild joy spread across his face—he had escaped disaster.

He staggered over to the line of those who had passed, feeling as though he'd just walked back from the gates of hell.

"Next!"

Another chore servant stepped forward, his face even paler than the one before him.

He charged in with a furious roar and punched the Puppet, but the sound was like a fist striking a lump of cotton.

The Crystal Stone flickered for a long while, then dimmed without showing anything.

"I... failed?" The chore servant muttered, his face drained of color.

"Useless. You're not even at Body Forging third layer! Get over there!"

Chief Steward Wang waved him away impatiently.

"Chief Steward Wang! Give me one more chance. I didn't sleep well last night, so I couldn't perform! Please, just one more chance!"

The chore servant dropped to his knees with a thump, begging through his tears and snot.

Being expelled from the Sect and sent back to the mortal world was worse than death to him.

After seeing even a sliver of the immortals' power, who would willingly return to a mortal life of birth, aging, sickness, and death, with a lifespan of less than a hundred years?

"One more chance?"

Chief Steward Wang sneered and leaned forward in his chair, looking down at him.

"The Spirit Sword Pavilion isn't a charity. We've kept you all these years, and you still haven't reached Body Forging fifth layer. You've got the nerve to ask for another chance? Drag him away!"

Two burly chore servants immediately stepped forward and, without a trace of expression, dragged the crying, struggling man over to the corner.

His despairing wails chilled the hearts of everyone waiting to be tested.

The atmosphere turned oppressively heavy in an instant.

The rest of the assessment continued amid alternating joy and despair.

"Body Forging sixth layer. Pass!"

"Body Forging fourth layer. Fail! Get out!"

"Body Forging seventh layer. Not bad. You're qualified for this afternoon's sparring!"

Some were overjoyed, while others looked ashen.

That line between passing and failing seemed to divide heaven from hell.

Zhou Xuan stood at the back of the line, calmly watching it all, without the slightest ripple in his heart.

He knew all too well that the Sect had never been a Sect because it was kind.

It was because it possessed higher-level cultivation arts, a more stable environment, and, most importantly, protection.

Without a Sect's protection, it was far too difficult for a rogue cultivator to grow strong.

Forget achieving Nascent Soul or living a long life. They might not even reach Golden Core Formation before someone crushed them like an ant over a scrap of resources in some nameless corner.

For those who had been eliminated, their Immortal Path had ended for good today.

"Next, Zhou Xuan!"

When Chief Steward Wang's ducklike voice called out his name, the entire courtyard fell strangely silent for a moment.

Everyone's gaze, whether they had passed or were still waiting to be tested, snapped toward Zhou Xuan.

Their eyes were filled with undisguised schadenfreude and anticipation for the show.

"Heh, it's finally the Chore Servant Courtyard's celebrity's turn."

"He's been dead last for years. Nobody's taking that title from him."

"What do you think he'll manage this time? Body Forging first layer, I bet. Not a layer more!"

"First layer? You're giving him too much credit. I heard he still hadn't even stabilized Body Forging first layer three months ago. Maybe the crystal won't even light up!"

"Hahaha, now this'll be a good show. I've never liked that guy. Always walking around looking like he's got one foot in the grave. Serves him right if he gets kicked out!"

If someone asked who was guaranteed to pass the assessment, no one would dare make that promise.

But if they asked who was certain to fail and get thrown out, then Zhou Xuan—the perennial last-place finisher—was the one and only answer in everyone's mind.

Zhou Xuan paid no attention to the biting comments and jeers around him.

He slowly stepped out of line and walked up to the cold Puppet.

Even Chief Steward Wang showed a little interest at his appearance. He shifted into a more comfortable position and narrowed his eyes, ready to enjoy the final performance of this famous waste.

Zhou Xuan glanced up at the Puppet, then at the dusty gray Crystal Stone embedded in its chest.

He drew a deep breath.

It was a long, deep breath that made his chest swell high, as if he meant to gather every last bit of his strength into this one punch.

The jeers around him grew louder.

"Look at him, putting on quite a show!"

"Who're you acting for? A waste is a waste. Dress it up however you like, you still won't make a flower bloom!"

Zhou Xuan ignored them.

He bent his knees slightly, leaned back, and tensed the muscles in his right arm, assuming a textbook stance for gathering strength.

The Mana in his body flowed quietly, like a docile stream.

He only needed to summon a trace of it—not even a hair's breadth—and he could blast the battered Puppet in front of him to pieces.

But he couldn't.

Liu Ruyan's threat and Chief Steward Wang's watchful eyes rang in his mind like alarm bells.

The tallest tree catches the wind.

Until he had enough strength to protect himself, any kind of showing off was tantamount to courting death.

He needed a plausible identity that could explain his transformation.

A lucky fellow who'd struck it rich and barely crawled out of the mud.

So Body Forging fifth layer, a result that sat just above the passing line, was the perfect disguise!

"Haah!"

Zhou Xuan let out a hoarse, strained roar, as though he were giving everything he had.

He suddenly stepped forward and twisted his body, his right fist carrying a desperate force as it slammed into the Puppet's chest!