Less than a quarter of a day had passed, and Bai Tian's steps felt like he was moving iron rods embedded deep into the earth. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling violently, sweat soaking his entire body until his clothes clung to his skin. When he had stood at the foot of the mountain, the rocky path ahead seemed ordinary—not too long, not too steep. Yet now, every meter felt like a journey of a thousand li. The path seemed endless.
His heart sank, like a stone plunging into a chasm. Despair began gnawing at his mind.
Ahead of him, a dozen burly boys trudged along. Their breathing was just as labored, sweat streaming down their faces, yet not one of them gave up.
Bai Tian bit his lip. He knew this was his last chance in life. He could hear the voices of his father and mother in his mind—not real voices, but echoes of hope they had entrusted to him since his departure.
Suddenly, a shout cut through the thin mountain air. Behind him, a boy lost his footing and tumbled down the cliff.
"I give up! Help!!"
All eyes turned at once. Below, a streak of dark light shot down. A disciple of the Rainbow Cloud Sect appeared out of nowhere, caught the falling boy, and floated down gracefully, landing softly at the foot of the mountain.
Bai Tian froze for a moment. His face turned pale, yet he did not stop. One step. Then another.
Time crawled like a snail; each minute felt like an hour.
Three days later, shadows of several young men began to appear ahead. Bai Tian did not know how many would remain by the end, but he knew one thing—he must not stop. His feet were swollen, open wounds bleeding at every step. The pain was sharp, radiating to the bones. At times, he had to crawl, relying on his hands, which were already raw and bloodied.
From the mountain peak, a middle-aged man with a sallow yellow complexion floated down. His voice was deep and hoarse, sweeping across the cold mountain air.
"Spoiled children... Hold fast to a strong heart, for this path is cruel. Every step will not be in vain... nothing is in vain..."
As he passed Bai Tian, the man slowed his pace. His gaze swept over the boy's pale face. He stopped briefly and gently patted Bai Tian on the head.
"Your perseverance is extraordinary, boy... it's a pity, you lack innate talent. A pity... truly a pity..." he murmured, then continued downward.
By the fourth night, Bai Tian's hands were cracked and bleeding. Each step left a trail of red. He did not even know how his legs could still move. His body was on the verge of collapse, yet something—whether it was determination or a shred of pride—forced him forward.
Dawn broke. Golden light washed over the stones. The top of the staircase appeared in the distance. Bai Tian dragged his legs—one step... two steps... just one more. But before he could place his foot, his body collapsed to the ground.
"Time's up! Only thirty-nine passed the criteria, five are still under consideration, the rest... failed!"
Several disciples of the Rainbow Cloud Sect immediately descended to aid the fallen youths. They administered pills to each unconscious participant.
A female disciple, her expression cold as ice, reported, "Master, out of thousands of candidates, one hundred thirty-seven passed the main test. Thirty-nine successfully climbed the Staircase, five remain under consideration."
Her tone was calm, yet her eyes reflected memories. She had once walked this path ten years ago. Her lifelong martial arts training had kept her alive, yet she had almost failed herself. Even today, she had yet to be recognized as a full disciple.
The middle-aged man in black looked down with a cold glare, then nodded slightly.
"Take those who passed and make them outer disciples. The five under consideration—appoint them as reserve disciples and give them suitable tasks in the future. Those who gave up—return them to their families."
"Announce the results once they regain consciousness. Have them bid farewell to their parents, then return to the sect within a month."
Time passed, and the participants slowly came to.
After receiving instructions, one by one they left the valley, each heading toward their own destination.
Bai Tian arrived at the sect valley and immediately sought Mu Xingyue. Yet, after searching, he could not find her anywhere. Curiosity led him to the entrance of the valley, where he saw Mu Xingyue surrounded by several men from a prominent family, their expressions a mix of curiosity and admiration at her presence.
Bai Tian intended to approach and greet her but quickly reconsidered. He knew that getting involved too much would only bring unnecessary trouble. He chose instead to sit at a small roadside teahouse, order a warm drink, and wait for Mu Xingyue to finish her dealings.
Meanwhile, Mu Xingyue remained cold and impassive in front of the men. Her gaze was sharp yet neutral, gradually causing them to back away, losing the courage to speak further. When her eyes met Bai Tian's at the teahouse, she walked toward him without changing her expression.
"Finished? Hmm... still intact," Mu Xingyue said in a flat tone, as if checking whether Bai Tian was truly alright.
"Let's return. I received a message from my family," she continued succinctly.
Bai Tian paused, astonished at how coldly and bluntly she spoke. He cursed silently—how could she say such things without any change in expression? Yet he could only nod obediently and rise from his seat.
Bai Tian, Mu Xingyue, and their attendants rode together on the same wooden cart as before. The wheels creaked softly, leaving a trail along the dusty dirt road. The sun leaned westward, bathing the path in fading golden light.
Along the way, they passed participants returning from the sect trials. Their steps were heavy. Some held their heads high, smiling with satisfaction at their success; others bowed low, shoulders slumped, as if the world had crumbled. Some stared blankly ahead, their faces hiding unseen wounds.
Bai Tian exhaled deeply. His mind churned like a stormy sea. Why must one become a cultivator? Was all this truly the path one must follow? The questions pounded repeatedly in his heart. His face hardened slightly, jaw tightening.
He turned to Mu Xingyue, intending to voice the unrest that had been gnawing at him. Yet before he could speak, she had already spoken, her voice flat like undisturbed flowing water:
"Find your own answers."
Silence filled the cart again. Bai Tian fell silent, slightly frustrated. The fatigue finally overcame all his worries, and he closed his eyes, letting himself drift into a brief but deep sleep.
Moments later, Mu Xingyue slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on Bai Tian's sleeping face—peaceful, untouched by the burdens of the world, at least for a while. Her expression softened, as if something fragile and unspoken trembled within her.
Unconsciously, a single tear fell, tracing a thin line down her cheek before landing on her lap. She raised her hand, fingers trembling slightly. A soft light, warm like spring moonlight, appeared in her palm. The glow flowed gently into Bai Tian's body, merging like a river into the ocean, then vanished without a trace.
No words were spoken. Only the wheels of the cart continued to turn, carrying them through the dusk.
Time passed, and eventually, they arrived before the grand gates of Mu Xingyue's residence. Gray stone walls rose high, adorned with silver dragon carvings that reflected the last light of the setting sun.
They walked into Mu Xingyue's home to rest.