The main peak of Qingxiao Sect was called Xuanqing Peak. Most of the inner disciples lived here, while elders, protectors, and personal disciples resided even higher—on the celestial Tianzhu Terrace.
On the fifth day after Lin Ce was promoted to the outer sect, he received a summoning talisman to attend the "Trial of the New Disciples" at Xuanqing Peak.
On the surface, this trial was meant to display one's abilities.
In truth, it was a method to divide up resources.
The more impressive your performance, the more you were granted.
Do poorly, and you might as well start over from scratch.
Remember," said Rule No.10 from Shen Changsheng's legacy,
"Never reveal your trump card unless you're ready to kill everyone who sees it."
Lin Ce stood at the foot of the peak. The sunlight shone on the jade-like steps, polished as smooth as marble.
"Junior Brother Lin?" A handsome young man in white robes waved with a smile. "The trial hasn't started yet. I just joined the outer sect too. Want to go up together?"
Lin Ce glanced at him and remembered his face—Xu Xing. Gentle smile, hidden needles in his sleeves. A practitioner of mechanical arts.
Lin Ce nodded. "Sure."
As they climbed, Xu Xing chatted cheerfully, probing with casual questions. Lin Ce answered when appropriate, lighthearted on the surface—but never said a word about his own background.
"What are you good at?"
"I dabble in puppetry."
"Oh? That sounds interesting."
"I'm still far from skilled. Not worthy to show in public."
They arrived at the trial ground atop Xuanqing Platform, where dozens of new disciples had already gathered. Some sat with eyes closed in meditation. Some chatted. Some sized up the competition coldly.
"All new outer disciples," Xu Xing whispered. "See that girl? Qu Yue'er. She just became the personal disciple of the Elder from Water Mirror Peak. The big guy behind her? Luo Yuan. They say he punched a tunneling demon beast to death."
Lin Ce simply nodded.
In a place like this, the more you know, the longer you live.
"Begin the trial!" A celestial voice rang out, and everyone rose.
An elder stepped forward:
"Step up one by one. Show us a single technique—combat or spell, any means is acceptable."
Qu Yue'er performed a Water Blade spell, slicing light into a rainbow arc. The crowd praised her as innately gifted.
Luo Yuan shattered a massive boulder with one punch, drawing gasps of awe.
Then it was Lin Ce's turn.
He gave a slight bow. "Disciple is skilled in puppet refinement."
From his sleeve, a bone puppet flew out, swiftly forming an array, moving like a small unit—defensive and aggressive in formation, precise in motion.
An elder frowned slightly. "The puppet is clever, but merely a minor art."
Lin Ce immediately replied, "This disciple's spirit root is poor. I rely on such fringe techniques to stay alive. A remote peak for cultivation is all I ask."
His words were humble, deferential. Several disciples instantly dismissed him with disdainful eyes.
But the elder nodded. "Approved."
After the trial, Lin Ce was assigned a remote cave on Silence Peak—thin spiritual energy, barren spirit fields, but quiet and secluded.
The moment he arrived, he checked for traps.
In Qingxiao Sect, even the locks on a new cave residence might hide cursed talismans.
Once confirmed clean, he began reviewing what he'd learned:
Qu Yue'er had excellent spirit roots, but her steps were unstable—perhaps enhanced through pills.
Luo Yuan's physique was powerful, but his divine sense was sluggish—not suited to ambushes.
Xu Xing was skilled in mechanisms and clearly interested in Lin Ce—friend or foe, unknown.
He recorded it all in a small book titled:
"Fellow Daoist, Stay Your Hand."
This was a mid-tier doctrine from Shen Changsheng's legacy:
"Fellow Daoist" is a dangerous word.
It means neither of you qualify as seniors—
and the first one to slip up… dies.
In the days that followed, Lin Ce never volunteered himself.
But occasionally, during sect tasks, he'd be "lucky" or "happen to help someone in need."
His reputation as "steady and dependable" gradually took root.
Until a sect mission, two weeks later.
Lin Ce, Qu Yue'er, Xu Xing, and others were sent to slay a flock of Bloodfeather Fiends in the Dongling Mountains.
It was a routine task—until the return journey, when Lin Ce stumbled upon a corpse deep in the forest.
—It was Luo Yuan.
A brutal death: limbs shattered, spiritual sea pierced clean through by a sword.
Lin Ce instantly knew: this was done by someone within the sect.
He did not panic.
First, he "appropriated" Luo Yuan's spirit stones and magical items.
Then, he burned the body, erasing all traces—
and left clues pointing to a beast attack.
If someone could kill Luo Yuan this cleanly and cover it up so thoroughly…
Then the killer was close.
The next day, Xu Xing casually asked,
"Did you happen to see anyone wandering around last night?"
Lin Ce shook his head. "No."
Xu Xing nodded. "Maybe I misheard something."
They exchanged a brief look… and smiled.
That night, Lin Ce checked each of his puppets, rearmed every trap in his cave.
Then he lit an incense stick and sat cross-legged.
The incense was called "Heaven's Eye"—
when meditating, it revealed even the slightest divine sense prying.
Sure enough—
Half an hour later, a faint divine sense swept across his doorway—then vanished.
Lin Ce opened his eyes.
He knew.
The next to die…
Would be a "Fellow Daoist."
And he himself—
Would live longer.