Chapter 36: The Youth Han Yu
The sun blazed overhead, and at the foot of Baxiang Sect's mountain, the bluestone plaza was packed with youths who had come to take the entry examination.
Han Yu kept to the very edge of the square, shrinking into the shadow, his thin frame almost pressed into the stone wall. He licked his parched lips, his eyes darting about alertly.
He noticed that the youths, himself included, had naturally divided into three groups.
The first was the few richly dressed youths in the center of the plaza.
There were about seven or eight of them, each dressed in fine attire.
The one in the lead was around fifteen or sixteen years old, with a piece of smooth white jade hanging from his waist, gleaming softly in the sunlight. He was speaking and laughing with his companions in a tone just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
"Brother Zhang, I heard your father specially invited a Transcendence Realm elder from Qingyang City to adjust your meridians?" a blue-robed youth asked flatteringly.
The youth called Brother Zhang nodded with affected modesty. "Just some minor means. My father says that with my talent, entering Baxiang Sect is more than assured. This time is just a formality."
Hearing this clearly, Han Yu tightened his grip on his worn tunic. He had been wearing this coarse cloth shirt for three years; the cuffs were frayed white, and there was a patch at the elbow. Compared to those silk-robed youths, they were worlds apart.
The second group surrounded those wealthy youths—over a dozen others, more plainly dressed but still neat and clean.
Clearly, they were from decent families in the towns, already having learned, to varying degrees, how to read expressions and act for advantage.
Thus, they clustered around the leading youth, calling him "young master" or "big brother." The silk-robed youth seemed long accustomed to such treatment, but as a youth, he still enjoyed it greatly.
The last group was made up of poor children from the countryside, like Han Yu.
They stood scattered in threes and twos at the plaza's edge, most of them cautiously observing their surroundings, like a flock of sparrows lost among cranes.
"Hey, are you here alone too?"
A timid voice came from beside him.
Han Yu turned to see a boy even smaller than himself, with traces of childishness still on his face.
"Mm, my third uncle brought me here," Han Yu replied, instinctively straightening his back to look less shabby. His third uncle was considered an important figure in their village—the only one who had ever left. It was said he held some position outside, though Han Yu didn't know what exactly.
The boy's eyes lit up. "I'm Lin Xiaoshu, son of a hunter from Niu Family Village. You?"
"Han Yu," he answered briefly, his gaze drifting back toward the silk-robed youths.
Following his gaze, Lin Xiaoshu clicked his tongue. "Those are obviously young masters from big families. I heard they've been bathing in spiritual medicine since childhood, cultivating family arts. Kids like us from poor families can't compare…"
Han Yu said nothing.
Before they set out, his third uncle had told him that the path of cultivation was difficult, but not without opportunities. Baxiang Sect, though a small sect, had its own rules and did not judge entirely by family background.
As he pondered this, a stir arose at the front of the plaza. An elder in a gray robe walked forward slowly, followed by several young disciples.
The elder's face was thin, but his eyes were bright, and as he walked, his robes fluttered, giving him an air of a true immortal.
"It's Elder Wang!" someone exclaimed.
Han Yu straightened at once and pulled Lin Xiaoshu forward a little. The silk-robed youths also stopped talking and stood respectfully.
Elder Wang stepped onto the high platform at the center of the plaza, his gaze sweeping over the gathered youths. When his eyes passed over the silk-robed group, he paused briefly and nodded to a middle-aged man standing beside them.
"Steward Li, the seedlings from Qingyang City this year are quite good," Elder Wang said with a smile.
The middle-aged man quickly cupped his hands. "Elder Wang flatters them. They are all unpolished children; we hope Baxiang Sect will nurture them well."
Hearing this exchange made Han Yu's heart sink. It seemed these wealthy youths already had connections with the sect. The entry test might not be…
"Silence!" Elder Wang suddenly raised his voice, and the plaza fell silent.
"Today is Baxiang Sect's once-every-three-years entry examination. The rule is simple—" Elder Wang pointed toward the towering peak behind him. "From here to our sect's mountain gate are two thousand seven hundred stone steps. Before sunset, those who can climb to the top on their own will may enter Baxiang Sect to cultivate."
The announcement set the plaza buzzing.
"That's it?"
"I thought they'd test spiritual roots…"
"Two thousand seven hundred steps—won't that exhaust someone to death?"
Elder Wang seemed to read their thoughts and smiled faintly. "On the path of cultivation, the heart comes first. Even with great talent, without perseverance, you will never achieve greatness!"
Han Yu lifted his head, gazing at the Golden Snake Mountain before him, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily.
When his third uncle had said that Baxiang Sect was built on Golden Snake Mountain, Han Yu had thought it was just an ordinary peak with a grand-sounding name. Now he finally understood what it meant for a name to be "true to its form."
The entire mountain was like a massive golden-scaled serpent coiled upon the earth. The main peak rose steep and proud like a serpent's head, while the ridges on either side stretched out like a forked tongue.
Most striking of all was the color of the stone—viewed from afar, it held the dark green sheen of ancient bronze, but up close, the rock was covered with fine golden patterns. In the sunlight, the entire mountain seemed to come alive, shimmering with rippling light.
"This… isn't stone at all…" Han Yu murmured, unable to resist reaching out to touch the exposed rock at the mountain's base. The surface felt cool and smooth beneath his fingertips, truly like the scales of a snake. He jerked his hand back, a shiver running up his spine.
"Frightened?" His third uncle had somehow appeared beside him, a dry tobacco pipe between his teeth. Narrowing his eyes toward the mist-wreathed summit, he said, "Golden Snake Mountain is the transformed body of an ancient spirit python. They say the stones still carry monster blood within them."
Han Yu was about to ask more when a wave of exclamations rose from ahead. Following the stir in the crowd, he finally saw the legendary Ascension Steps—
Two thousand seven hundred stone steps, like a jade belt cast down by the gods, wound from the mountain's foot up into unseen clouds. The lowest three hundred steps were still fairly gentle, but the higher they climbed, the steeper they grew. By mid-mountain, the steps were nearly vertical. Centuries of wind and rain had left the stones pitted, some hollows still holding last night's rainwater, glittering in the sunlight like shards of a shattered mirror.
"This… this is really for people to walk on?" Lin Xiaoshu's voice trembled beside him. He pointed to a protruding cliff halfway up where a span of about twenty steps hung completely in midair, supported only by iron chains set into the rock. When the mountain wind blew past, the entire section swayed faintly.
Han Yu's gaze followed the steps upward until the rolling sea of clouds at mid-mountain cut off his view. The milky-white mist clung to the slopes like a living thing, sometimes revealing a few solitary steps, sometimes swallowing whole stretches of the path.
As he stared, a sudden gust tore the clouds apart, revealing a vermilion archway perched high above. Eight stone beasts of varying forms crouched along its eaves, half-hidden in the mist.
"Baxiang Sect…" Han Yu's heart pounded. Beyond the archway, a cluster of green-tiled buildings floated amidst the sea of clouds like a mirage. But before he could see more, the mist closed in again, making the glimpse feel like an illusion.
"Enough staring!" His third uncle rapped the back of Han Yu's head with the pipe stem. "The climb begins at noon. Save your strength."
…
At the same time—
A hundred li away from Golden Snake Mountain, Chen Chang'an set down his coarse porcelain tea bowl, the tea inside rippling in a shallow circle.
Looking around, he saw only a few bent-backed old farmers walking slowly along the dirt road of Qingniu Village. The sound of children playing near the drying yard rang especially clear in the quiet.
"Strange." He rubbed his chin and turned to ask the tea stall owner, "Why is there not a single young man in this village?"
The old man wiping down a table smiled knowingly. "You must be from out of town, sir? Today is Baxiang Sect's mountain-opening ceremony. Every young person from the nearby villages left for Golden Snake Mountain before dawn."
"Baxiang Sect?" Chen Chang'an's eyes lit up. He spun the tea bowl between his fingers. "A cultivation sect?"
"Of course!" The old man poured him more tea from a copper kettle, steam curling in the air as he lowered his voice. "Which young one doesn't dream of immortality? And if one person ascends, even the chickens and dogs rise to the heavens!"
Chen Chang'an's eyes gleamed as he gazed thoughtfully at the distant mountains.
"Old sir, how do I get to Baxiang Sect?"
"Follow the official road east for sixty li. When you see Golden Snake Mountain, you'll know. There's Qingyang City at its foot—far livelier than our little village. If you're going to try for a fate with the immortals, best reach there before noon…"
But before he could finish, a piece of silver clinked onto the table. When he looked up again, the blue-robed traveler was already gone down the official road, leaving only the tea stall's banner swaying gently in the wind.
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