The doors of Myriad Halls Plaza remained silent after Feng Jiu'er returned.
No new words appeared above them, and no ancient voice urged anyone forward. The trial seemed patient, as if it did not care whether the cultivators rushed to their deaths or sat for half a day counting pills and nursing wounds. The black flame marks on everyone's bodies remained quiet, but no one forgot they were there.
Fang Lin also did not forget.
He stood beside the Green Bamboo Alliance group and watched Feng Jiu'er sit down to recover. She did not collapse, nor did she let anyone help her too obviously. She only took out a pill, swallowed it, and closed her eyes while fire Qi moved carefully beneath her torn sleeve. The wound on her upper arm had already been sealed, but the strange force from the Level 6 trial had clearly burrowed deeper than the skin.
Fang Lin took out a recovery pill of his own and swallowed it under several watching gazes.
It was not because he truly needed it that badly. If he used Nether Life Spirit Qi without restraint, the cuts left from Level 5 would recover far faster than anyone here would find reasonable. That was exactly why he did not do it. In a place filled with major sect geniuses, reclusive disciples, and greedy eyes, healing too quickly was no different from telling everyone that his body hid something worth cutting open.
The pill dissolved into warm medicinal strength. Fang Lin let his breathing slow. His expression remained slightly pale, and the wound on his forearm still looked troublesome enough to satisfy anyone who cared to look.
Gu Man came over not long after.
The Ancient Beast Hall disciple walked with the heavy confidence of someone who had never learned how to be subtle and had never suffered much for it. His dark green and bronze beast-hide armor still showed cracks from the fifth level, and dried blood marked the corner of his mouth. Instead of hiding it, he wiped it with his thumb and looked at the stain as if judging whether it was worth remembering.
Then he looked at Fang Lin.
"Silent Mountain Sword," Gu Man said, grinning. "Are you going into Level 6 or waiting for the door to grow kinder?"
Several cultivators nearby turned their heads.
Fang Lin glanced at him. "Do the doors here grow kinder?"
"No." Gu Man laughed. "But some people wait as if they do. I saw a man stare at one door for so long that I thought he was trying to marry it."
Su Wanqing coughed softly, though whether from injury or laughter was difficult to tell.
Fang Lin's lips curved slightly. "And did the door accept?"
"Of course not. The door had standards."
This time, even Feng Jiu'er opened her eyes and gave Gu Man a brief look. "Ancient Beast Hall teaches this kind of observation?"
Gu Man thumped his chest. "Ancient Beast Hall teaches survival. If a door does not like you, do not force affection."
Feng Jiu'er looked away, but the corner of her mouth moved faintly.
Fang Lin found this man interesting. Gu Man's words were rough, but there was no hidden needle in them. He asked because he was curious, not because he wanted to peel open Fang Lin's reward. That difference was small, yet Fang Lin had always been good at noticing small things.
"I will not enter Level 6 yet," Fang Lin said. "There are too many people bleeding from it. Watching a little longer costs less than arrogance."
Gu Man's grin widened. "Good. You have a head, and you use it. I like people who use their heads before others smash them."
"That sounds like experience."
"I have smashed a few."
"No one doubted that."
Gu Man laughed again, louder this time, then sat down nearby without asking permission. It was not the posture of someone trying to force closeness. It was the posture of someone who had decided Fang Lin was worth talking to and assumed Fang Lin would either tolerate him or tell him to leave.
Fang Lin did neither.
Ye Qinglan arrived soon after with two Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect disciples behind her. She did not sit too close, but she did not stand far either. Her green-white robes were still neat despite the earlier trial, and the layered leaf patterns at her sleeves gave off a faint calming aura.
"Fellow Daoist Shen is right not to rush," Ye Qinglan said. "After Level 5, every step forward carries a different price."
Gu Man pointed at Feng Jiu'er. "She paid some of it and came back standing."
Feng Jiu'er opened her eyes again. "I also came back injured."
"Still standing," Gu Man said. "Ancient Beast Hall counts that."
"Green Bamboo Sect counts whether one can still think clearly afterward."
"Then both sides are satisfied."
Fang Lin glanced at Feng Jiu'er. Her breathing had steadied somewhat. The medicinal strength had begun pressing down the hidden impact beneath her wound, but her face was still paler than usual. She noticed his gaze and said, "I am not entering again soon."
"I did not ask."
"You were about to."
"I was considering how to word it."
"Badly, most likely."
Gu Man looked between them, then leaned toward Su Wanqing and whispered in a voice that was absolutely not quiet, "Are they always like this?"
Su Wanqing's expression remained gentle. "Only when injured, surrounded by enemies, or pretending not to worry."
Gu Man nodded seriously. "So always."
Feng Jiu'er closed her eyes again as if she had heard nothing.
Fang Lin did not answer. Some things were harder to parry than a spear.
At that moment, Mo Qingchuan approached with one hand resting against the cracked lantern pendant at his chest. His face was still pale from his failed Level 6 attempt, but his smile had returned. It was not bright. It was the smile of a man who had coughed blood, counted his ribs, and decided the day could have gone worse.
"Fellow Daoist Shen," Mo Qingchuan said, cupping his hands. "May I speak with you?"
Fang Lin looked at him. "About trade?"
Mo Qingchuan's smile deepened slightly. "About survival first, trade second. Though in the cultivation world, the two often share the same cup."
Gu Man gave him a look. "Scholar, if you start speaking in riddles, I will throw you at the door and see whether Level 6 accepts you a second time."
Mo Qingchuan sighed. "Brother Gu, I have just escaped with my head attached. Please allow it to remain attached long enough for me to finish a sentence."
"Speak clearly then."
"I have a technique I cannot use," Mo Qingchuan said, looking back at Fang Lin and others. "It is not from my master's lineage. It came from the fifth level, so there should be no oath restriction upon it. Its path leans toward Darkness. More precisely, toward a blade or sword that can carry shadow."
Fang Lin's eyes moved slightly, but his expression did not change.
Mo Qingchuan continued, "My own path is pale spirit flame and soul guarding. If I force this technique, I will either waste it or injure my own circulation. I would rather trade it to someone who can use it, if that person has something that can keep me alive the next time a trial opponent tries to separate me from my ancestors."
Gu Man slapped his thigh. "You want a movement technique."
"I want not dying," Mo Qingchuan replied. "Movement is one honorable route toward that goal."
Fang Lin looked at him for a moment. "Why speak to me?"
"Because you have the patience of someone who hides more than he says, and the footwork of someone who dislikes being surrounded. Whether your Level 5 reward is movement or not, I do not know. If it is not, then I have only wasted a few breaths and Brother Gu has gained another chance to threaten my neck."
Gu Man nodded and shook his head, "A fair exchange. My apologies but I did not get any movement technique." And he look at Fang Lin.
Fang Lin did not immediately answer.
Around them, the temporary market continued. A Pill Dawn Sect disciple was inspecting a jade bottle. Two medium sect cultivators argued over the value of a weapon-tempering liquid. Farther away, the River Sword Sect disciple who had tested Fang Lin earlier looked in their direction, eyes narrowing when he saw Mo Qingchuan standing near him.
Some people noticed that a trade conversation had begun.
They did not know what was being traded.
That ignorance made them more curious.
Fang Lin lowered his voice slightly. "If it is a technique from the fifth level, why no oath? And what is Oath restriction?"
Mo Qingchuan seemed pleased by the question. "Because this place did not demand one. If it were my master's method, I would not even describe the shape of the first sentence without permission. My master once told me that a man who leaks a protected method should dig his own grave before the Dao helps him finish it."
Gu Man scratched his chin. "Your master sounds cheerful."
"He smiles when teaching that lesson."
"That is worse."
Ye Qinglan spoke then, her voice calm. "Most major sect techniques require a Dao of the Heavens oath before one studies the real method. Low skills may not. Public techniques may not. But high techniques, Cultivation Arts, Core Arts, and anything that forms the foundation of a sect cannot be handed to disciples without restriction."
Fang Lin looked at her. "Because of spies?"
"Spies, traitors, captured disciples, greedy descendants, careless friends, lovers with loose mouths, merchants who buy secrets, enemies who search memories, and many more." Ye Qinglan said. Her tone remained gentle, but each example carried weight. "A sect can lose far more from one leaked method than from losing a mine. A mine can be guarded again. A technique, once spread, grows legs."
Gu Man snorted. "In Ancient Beast Hall, if someone leaks a beast-blood art, the elders first make sure he survives the oath backlash. Then they punish him for surviving."
Mo Qingchuan looked at him. "That seems excessive."
"It helps with keeping a good memory."
Feng Jiu'er opened her eyes. "Medium sects are the same, only with fewer layers. Green Bamboo Sect does not have as many high techniques as a major sect, so the ones we do have are protected more carefully. Even disciples who earn the right to learn them must swear not to teach them privately."
Fang Lin thought of Wind Break Palm, Frost Trace Sword Art, and the techniques he had gathered along the way. He had already known sect techniques were sensitive, but hearing it from several sides made the structure clearer. The Demon Immortal Continent did not run on generosity. It ran on gates. Every gate had a price, a guard, and someone waiting to decide whether the person outside deserved to enter.
Mo Qingchuan looked at the countless doors and said, "That is why this place is frightening. The rewards here do not ask which sect raised you, which elder favors you, or whose blood runs in your veins. If you pass, it gives. If you fail, it takes."
Gu Man's smile faded slightly. "And sometimes it takes the whole person."
No one laughed at that.
Several trial doors remained shut in the distance, and no one knew whether the people inside were still fighting or already dead.
Ye Qinglan seemed to sense Fang Lin's thought. "In major sects, even points are not enough."
"Points?" Fang Lin asked.
"Merit points," Ye Qinglan said. "Every major sect names them differently. In Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect, we use Leaf Merit Points. Heavenly Sword Lake has Sword Merit. Ancient Beast Hall has Beast Merit. They are earned through missions, guarding territories, gathering resources, winning competitions, killing enemies, repairing formations, refining pills, and many other contributions."
Gu Man raised one hand. "Also by bringing back beast cores that do not explode in the appraisal hall. The appraisers dislike that."
Su Wanqing glanced at him. "That happened?"
Gu Man looked away. "Once. Maybe twice. The second core was already unstable. I was innocent in spirit."
Feng Jiu'er said dryly, "How fortunate for your spirit."
Fang Lin listened quietly.
Ye Qinglan continued, "Merit points can buy pills, weapons, training rooms, maps, guidance, and ordinary techniques. But important techniques need authority too. A normal inner disciple cannot walk into a restricted hall and buy an extraordinary Core Art just because he has enough points."
"Why not?" Fang Lin asked, though he could already guess.
"Because points measure contribution. Authority measures trust, talent, rank, and future value." Ye Qinglan's eyes moved briefly toward the Level 6 doors. "Some methods can raise a disciple beyond ordinary limits. If given to the wrong person, they waste resources at best and create disaster at worst."
Gu Man nodded. "If a weak-minded fool gets a beast transformation art beyond his control, he might turn into half a beast and still lose the fight. Then everyone has to pretend not to laugh because his master is nearby."
Mo Qingchuan looked thoughtful. "You sound as though this also happened."
Gu Man's expression became solemn. "I respect the dead."
"Did he die?"
"No, but his dignity did."
Even Fang Lin nearly smiled.
The conversation did not feel like a lesson. That was what made it useful. Each person spoke from their own path. Mo Qingchuan spoke like a disciple who had been beaten by an old master until caution became instinct. Ye Qinglan spoke like someone raised inside a major sect where rules were polished enough to look fair. Feng Jiu'er spoke with the practical sharpness of a medium sect disciple who understood scarcity. Gu Man spoke like a man who turned every principle into bruises.
Fang Lin looked at Mo Qingchuan. "If we trade, you will not ask for an oath?"
Mo Qingchuan shook his head. "No. The method I offer has no restriction, and the method I want should have none if it came from this place. I am not asking for your secret, and you are not asking for mine. A fair trade needs caution. It does not always need the heavens to stand between two men like a debt collector."
Gu Man grunted. "The heavens are expensive witnesses."
Feng Jiu'er looked at Fang Lin. "If you trade a technique you have not studied, you lose it completely."
Mo Qingchuan nodded. "Unless it is first ingrained into consciousness. Not mastered. Ingrained. The difference is important."
Fang Lin looked at him again and said. "Explain."
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