The moment the door opened, the sound was soft.
But the reaction was not.
Heads turned almost in unison.
Lin Yuan stepped inside, closing the door behind him with the same calm as if he had entered an empty room. He paused for half a breath, eyes adjusting to the light—and to the attention.
Every candidate who had passed the first phase was already present.
And every one of them was looking at him.
A low stir moved through the hall, restrained but unmistakable.
"That's him…"
"So that's Lin Yuan?"
"He's younger than I thought."
"Is that really him?"
The name had been spoken too many times already for it to be coincidence.
Earlier, when the results were finalized, Wei Changxu had asked for him—twice.
When the passed candidates were assembled, his absence had been noted.
When the invigilator checked the list again, the name had stood alone at the top.
Lin Yuan.
The one who had scored perfect ten.
Not just correct answers.
Correct consequences.
Correct reasoning.
That was why the atmosphere now felt different.
Not hostile.
Not welcoming.
Curious. Pressurized. Expectant.
At the side of the hall, the female invigilator stiffened slightly.
It's him.
She remembered him clearly now—not because of brilliance, but because he had been one of the first to leave. No hesitation. No second glance. No visible nerves.
At the time, she had assumed confidence or foolishness.
Now, watching him stand calmly beneath dozens of gazes, she felt a flicker of something closer to disbelief.
Wei Changxu had already turned.
He did not look surprised.
If anything, his expression suggested confirmation rather than discovery.
His eyes swept over Lin Yuan once—clean, practiced, thorough.
The robe.
The posture.
The flow of qi.
Then he reached to the table beside him.
There, separated neatly from the rest, lay a single application form.
Wei Changxu picked it up.
"Lin Yuan," he said, voice steady, not loud, yet carrying easily across the hall.
The murmurs faded instantly.
"You were absent when the second phase candidates were assembled," he said.
"I lost track of time," Lin Yuan answered honestly.
Wei Changxu did not react immediately.
Lin Yuan inclined his head slightly. "My apologies."
Wei Changxu glanced down at the form again.
"No sect," he read.
"No clan."
"No inherited array lineage."
He looked up.
"Independent cultivator?"
"Yes."
A ripple moved through the candidates—not noise, but reaction.
Independent.
No backing.
No formal training.
Wei Changxu did not scold.
He only regarded Lin Yuan for another long breath, then nodded once.
"Take your place," he said. "Stand with the others."
Lin Yuan inclined his head and moved forward.
As he walked between the rows, the sensation followed him—eyes tracking, thoughts recalculating. Some candidates leaned back unconsciously, others straightened as if proximity demanded better posture.
At the back of the hall, Fan Qinglu stood with her hands folded in front of her.
Others leaned closer, trying to see him better, as if proximity might explain something.
Fan Qinglu watched him approach, heart thumping in an unfamiliar rhythm.
He stopped just behind her.
She turned, unable to help herself.
"You," she said quietly. "Why were you late?"
"I told you," Lin Yuan replied. "I was eating."
She stared at him.
"And you scored ten?"
Lin Yuan thought for a moment. "I suppose so."
Her lips parted slightly.
"Perhaps I'm the protagonist," he said.
Fan Qinglu blinked.
"…What?"
"Nothing," Lin Yuan replied. "Just a guess."
She exhaled, then laughed under her breath—quiet, embarrassed.
"I scored seven," she admitted.
"That's very good," Lin Yuan said.
She shot him a look. "That's not comforting."
Wei Changxu cleared his throat.
The hall stilled immediately.
"Phase Two," he said, "will test adjustment and execution."
He gestured, and the side doors opened.
Beyond them lay a vast, empty hall—stone floor etched with faint residual marks from past examinations. Tables had been arranged at wide intervals. On each lay prepared materials: spirit stones of low purity, formation chalk, stabilization pins, and incomplete array bases.
Wei Changxu continued.
"You will each be given three arrays."
No murmurs this time.
"You are required to successfully complete two."
He paused deliberately.
"Completion does not mean enhancement. It does not mean optimization. It means stability. If the array functions as intended without backlash, it is considered complete."
His gaze swept the candidates.
"I will personally observe."
That statement landed with weight.
Fan Qinglu swallowed.
Lin Yuan's attention sharpened—not with excitement, but with recognition.
He is watching for restraint, Lin Yuan realized. Not brilliance.
Wei Changxu gestured again. "Proceed."
They moved.
As Lin Yuan entered the larger hall, his eyes flicked toward the lists posted near the array stations.
The arrays assigned were basic.
Not crude—but foundational.
The kind designed to test understanding, not creativity.
Lin Yuan felt no rush.
Around him, others stiffened.
Some stared at the materials as if facing an enemy.
Lin Yuan simply took his place.
Behind him, Fan Qinglu drew a steadying breath.
Ahead of him, Wei Changxu stood, watching.
The test had not begun.
But the room already knew who it was watching.
End of chapter 68