In the hall they stood one of the disciples who had scored seventy five percent but didn't care about that at all as she watched the event unfold before her eyes taking note of Jian's actions. This was none other than Fei ling
Jian turned slowly, his gaze sweeping past the rows of muttering disciples as though they were nothing more than passing dust.
Fixing his eyes squarely on Elder Han Mei, he spoke with a calm yet cutting tone:
"Elder Han Mei… do you believe I cheated?"
The weight of his glare pressed against her, daring her to answer.
Elder Han Mei's lips parted, then closed. She had already tested the dummy herself, not once but twice, pouring her spiritual sense into it. Nothing was amiss. No trickery, no tampering.
If he had cheated, then his mastery and understanding of formations and human biology would on par —an absurd thought for an outer court disciple who couldn't yet release Qi outside his body.
And yet with all this… she couldn't bring herself to accept the result. Ninety-five point one percent.
A score not even she could achieve in her youth, and without outward Qi? It was inconceivable.
Her silence stretched.
The room filled with whispers, sharp glares from the disciples, who continued to mutter accusations that clung to Jian like gnat.
Jian's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. His expression remained indifferent, but the slight downturn of his eyes made it seem as though the entire hall had become a bothersome noise.
After waiting for a few moments and getting no response from Elder Han Mei only getting bad glares from disciples with other muttering accusations.
He sighed. He wasn't willing to let this matter spiral further. Talent, once exposed, was both a blessing and a curse—it attracted admiration, but also envy, scrutiny, and malice.
He was not yet strong enough to fend off every kind of attention.
Jian stepped away from his row with unhurried grace . The hall quieted instantly, every gaze locking unto him as though he carried the weight of their doubts in his stride.
He stopped before a nearby table. A young disciple sat there stiffly, the same one who had only managed a meager thirty-one percent score. The boy looked up, startled, caught between the glares and anticipation of other disciples.
Without a word, Jian placed his hand on the table beside the dummy. Spiritual Qi surged within his veins, gathering at his fingertips until the skin flushed with a yellow-red glow—like molten blood pressing against the surface.
He deliberately lifted his hand, letting the entire hall see the radiance, letting them witness.
Then, with calm precision, he lowered his fingers onto the dummy.
The hall held its breath.
His touch was deliberate, methodical. His movements were not frantic like most of the others had been, nor stiff like a novice's. Instead, he moved with a rhythm—rubbing, kneading, then retreating, each stroke shifting in tempo, each press carrying an exact pressure.
At times, his fingers pressed deeper, causing the dummy's circuits to hum faintly. At other times, his touch lightened into near caresses, drawing out sharp, clear buzzes that vibrated through the air.
The disciples leaned forward, entranced. Even those who had mocked him before could not look away.
Within moments, the dummy shuddered violently, its core resonating with a low whine that sounded far louder than any other in the room.
The fairies who had left their seats earlier stood frozen, their eyes wide as they watched every detail of Jian's movements. Each flick of his fingers, each adjustment of pressure, each rhythm carried a mastery they themselves had struggled years to grasp.
Any suspicion they once held dissolved into silence. The truth was plain before them—his precision was absolute.
The rest of the hall remained divided. Those with keen eyes were shaken, stunned into quiet acceptance. But among the less discerning disciples, whispers of denial lingered, their ignorance shielding them from the weight of what they had witnessed.
Five minutes passed in complete silence. The only sound was the faint hum of the dummy, still resonating faintly from Jian's touch.
Then, at last, Jian withdrew his hand. The glow at his fingertips dimmed, fading back into his flesh until only his natural skin remained.
He raised his hand casually, as though what he had just displayed was no more than a trivial exercise.
"You can check again," Jian said flatly, his tone devoid of triumph, as if the outcome were already beneath his concern.
The words struck like a challenge, heavy and deliberate.
Elder Han Mei hesitated. She had been watching closely this time, refusing to let even the slightest movement escape her notice. Yet the more she saw, the heavier her heart had grown.
Every motion Jian made followed principles she had long struggled to perfect herself. There had been no tricks, no hidden formations, no deception. Only flawless execution.
She swallowed hard. Her face betrayed nothing, but inside, torrents of emotions churned. Shock at what she had witnessed. Clarity, as she realized his method surpassed even her strict teachings. And beneath it all—a sting of defeat she hadn't felt in decades as she had been a prodigy from her youth.
With slow stride she approaches the dummy infusing her spiritual Qi into the circuit the next moment ninety six displayed boldly shocking the disciples even more.
"I didn't cheat, and I don't cheat. I believe this is enough proof to counter your claim," Jian said firmly, his voice carrying through the hall with unshakable certainty. Without sparing another glance at the stunned faces around him, he turned and calmly made his way back to his seat.
A heavy silence lingered until Elder Han Mei finally recovered from her dazed state. She straightened her back, forcing a professional composure as her lips curved into the faintest, strained smile.
"This assessment," she began, her tone clipped, "was based solely on the ability to provide physical stimulation and pleasure to the dummy without engaging its private parts."
She paused, sweeping her gaze over the restless disciples, ensuring her voice reclaimed authority.
"With that in mind—if you scored above fifty-five percent, you have passed this assessment and will be awarded points."
The disciples exhaled collectively, some relieved, others disappointed. But Elder Han Mei wasn't finished.
"And," her voice sharpened, "for those who managed to surpass the ninety-one percent benchmark—you will be awarded one hundred thousand points."
Gasps erupted across the hall, disciples whispering frantically, their gazes darting to Jian, how ever Jian wasn't the only one that had managed to score above 91 as four of the fairies from earlier scored above 91 with three other male disciples.
"However," Elder Han Mei cut through the noise, her tone cold and decisive, "that will be the end of today's session. You are all dismissed. Go about your normal duties."
Her
eyes then narrowed, fixing directly on Jian.
"Except you, Lou Jian. Wait back."