Chapter 37: Sect Examination
Golden Snake Mountain, Baxiang Sect.
Han Yu rubbed his head and withdrew his gaze, only to notice the shadow at his feet twisting strangely.
He blinked, realizing it was no illusion—the golden patterns on the stone steps shimmered in the sunlight, rising and falling like the scales of a living serpent. The entire mountain path seemed to breathe.
A wave of dizziness struck him, and he staggered back two steps, steadying himself only when his back pressed against an old pine.
"The 'Living Scales' effect of Golden Snake Mountain," his third uncle said casually, puffing smoke rings. "Those without enough cultivation, if they stare too long, will have their souls drawn away. Look to the sides of the steps."
Han Yu pressed his temple and shifted his gaze.
In the cracks along either side of the steps grew clusters of thumb-sized blue-violet flowers, each petal speckled with silver star-like spots.
More astonishing still, these 'Star-Marked Flowers' swayed in the mountain wind, scattering a fine glowing powder that formed a faint luminous trail along the steps.
"That's guiding starlight," his uncle explained. "It glows at night. But you'd best reach the top before dark—once night falls, I hear things come out onto the steps… things not so pleasant."
As he spoke, a silver blur shot past overhead from a rock crevice.
Han Yu glimpsed only a bushy tail before it vanished into the shrubs beside the steps.
"A mist marten!" a knowledgeable youth exclaimed. "I hear their pelts ward off a hundred poisons!"
The crowd stirred, and several wealthy youths signaled their servants to give chase.
Just then, three long peals of a bell rang from the mountaintop, the deep sound making the Star-Marked Flowers tremble.
All chatter stopped at once.
Elder Wang of Baxiang Sect now stood on the first step of the staircase, his grey robe billowing in the mountain wind. Behind him were two sword-bearing youths, each with a jade plaque carved with serpent patterns hanging from their waist.
"Noon has come," Elder Wang's voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly to every ear. "Those who reach the summit before sunset may enter Baxiang Sect."
Han Yu took a deep breath and looked again at the Ascension Steps disappearing into the clouds.
The sunlight now struck the middle of the mountain, where the nearly vertical steps blazed with gold, like the fangs in the gaping maw of a giant python.
He suddenly understood why his third uncle had said that every year, some youths vanished during the test—this was no mere ascension path, but a road into the dragon's den.
"Frightened?" His third uncle pressed a coarse cloth pouch into his hand. "Take this. In a critical moment, chew two pieces."
Inside, Han Yu felt hard lumps and smelled the earthy scent of ginseng.
He was about to thank him when cheers erupted ahead—the group of silk-robed youths were already rushing toward the steps, their fine clothes fluttering in the wind as servants cleared the way.
"Remember," his uncle gave his shoulder one last pat, "the test of the Ascension Steps isn't about your legs—it's about here." His rough finger tapped Han Yu's chest.
The bell tolled again, and Han Yu surged forward with the crowd toward the foot of the mountain.
When he finally stood before the first step, he saw that each was twice the height of an ordinary stair, the bluestone worn into hollows by countless feet, with scraps of blood-stained cloth still stuck in some cracks.
Looking up, the two thousand seven hundred steps rose and fell in the mist, like a hanging jade belt leading to the Ninth Heaven.
At the highest point, the vermilion mountain gate was once again swallowed by the rolling sea of clouds, as though it had never existed at all.
Han Yu swallowed hard and set his foot on the first step.
…
Time passed bit by bit.
His knees were scraped raw and bleeding, his palms cut and torn by the rough stone. He gasped heavily, his throat feeling as if it were stuffed with burning coals, each breath carrying the taste of blood.
Looking up, the mist-shrouded mountain gate still seemed impossibly far away.
The silk-robed youths had long since reached the summit and now stood above, gazing down at the climbers.
Their clothes were spotless, and some even wore smiles, as though this trial were nothing more than a formality.
Han Yu clenched his teeth, his nails digging into the cracks between the steps, and dragged his heavy body up one more step.
"Sure enough… they were right…"
He should have realized it earlier. Those wealthy young masters had taken spiritual medicine since childhood, cultivated family techniques, and possessed bodies far stronger than ordinary people. For a poor youth like him, reaching halfway up was already the limit.
The surroundings were already empty. Most had given up halfway. Lin Xiaoshu had collapsed at the eight-hundredth step, crying as a servant disciple helped him down the mountain.
Now, on the entire Ascension Stair, only Han Yu remained, struggling alone.
The sun slowly dipped westward, and the mountain mist grew thicker. The chill seeped into his bones. His vision began to blur, and his arms trembled so badly they could barely support his weight.
"Two thousand steps… just a little more…"
He didn't know why he was so determined. Perhaps it was unwillingness, perhaps simply not wanting to admit defeat.
At last, when the final ray of sunlight vanished from the mountain peak, Han Yu reached the two-thousandth step.
He could move no further, collapsing on the cold stone steps, even his breathing turning faint.
"The examination is over!"
Elder Wang's voice came from above, echoing through the mountains.
"Those who reached the summit, enter the inner sect."
"Those who did not reach the summit but climbed more than halfway may enter the outer sect, train in martial arts, and try again next year."
Han Yu jerked his head up, a glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes.
"The outer sect… there's still a chance!"
He forced himself upright and looked around, only to find that aside from the silk-robed youths who had long since reached the summit, there was only one other person who had climbed more than halfway.
It was a lean youth with a cold, sharp face and eyes like blades. He too was covered in wounds, but his back was straight as a drawn sword.
"Li…"
Han Yu vaguely remembered—this one's surname was Li, taciturn, never speaking to anyone from start to finish.
Elder Wang's gaze swept over the two of them, and he gave a slight nod.
"Han Yu, Li Hanzhou, the two of you will report to the outer sect tomorrow."
Han Yu finally exhaled, the tension in his body loosening all at once as he collapsed to the ground.
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