The four soon arrived at the Manor Guard Administration.
The steward was an elderly man in his fifties, dressed in a plain blue robe. With a kindly smile, he led them toward the rear courtyard.
"This way, please. The assessment grounds are ready."
After rounding several rows of gray-brick, tiled-roof buildings and passing through a moon gate, they found the space before them suddenly opening up.
It was a small Martial Training Ground, a size smaller than the one they used for their daily morning practice. However, its paving stones were flatter and thicker. Stone weights, wooden training dummies, and other training equipment stood around the edges, while a row of weapon racks occupied one corner, their sabers, spears, swords, and halberds gleaming coldly.
A large area in the center of the Martial Training Ground had been cleared, evidently for the assessment.
Seven or eight people were already there, scattered about in twos and threes. Some were loosening up their muscles, some were resting with their eyes closed, and others leaned against the weapon racks with their arms folded, secretly sizing up every new arrival.
Zhao Gang stood beside Mo Yun, his large hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching, then clenching again. A thin sheen of sweat had already formed on his palms.
Zhou Ping was even more nervous. His lips were pressed together until they turned pale, and his gaze kept darting about, as though searching for something he could not find.
Li Wei was doing somewhat better, though his breathing was slightly rapid and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Clearly, he was also trying hard to suppress his unease.
The four stood together without a single word, silent as four stone statues.
Time trickled by.
The manor guards taking part in the assessment arrived one after another.