Chapter 384 Book 7 Winning a Flying Dagger
The air in the Martial Hall of White Lotus Valley was thick with the scent of incense and the nervous energy of hundreds of young cultivators. Sunlight, filtered through the high, latticed windows, illuminated dust motes dancing in the columns of light, casting a serene glow over the chaotic scene. Disciples bustled around the long, stone registration table, their robes—a clean, pristine white—creating a uniform sea of anticipation. Each face held a different expression: the grim determination of those who had trained for months and years, the wide-eyed excitement of the hopefuls, and the quiet confidence of the truly skilled.
At the edge of the crowd, a slender young woman in a simple white robe stood a little apart. Her name was Ashty, and her hands were clasped so tightly they were turning white. Her gaze was fixed on the registration line, where the queue seemed to stretch for an eternity.
