C2
Before long, Steward Zhao was back at the doorstep of the Hsu residence, calling out loudly.
"Old Hsu, get your boy out here, we're about to leave!"
Hsu Baoshan quickly emerged with Hsu Mu, offering a smile. "Old Zhao, won't you sit for a spell?"
Steward Zhao replied with a huff, "Sit? And risk you busting your door on me? No thanks, we're off!"
With that, Steward Zhao turned and strode off, Hsu Baoshan giving Hsu Mu a meaningful look. Hsu Mu quickly caught up.
"Uncle Zhao, are we heading up the mountain now?" Hsu Mu inquired with curiosity.
"Yep, you'll even meet a few lads from our village up there," Steward Zhao grunted, then fell silent.
Hsu Mu, remembering his father's advice to be reserved, said little more and clutched his bundle of sugar pancakes closely.
Soon, they reached the village edge where several youths were already gathered.
This year, the village had five children who had turned thirteen, including one girl.
"Xiao Yu, what brings you here?" Hsu Mu asked Sheh Yu in surprise.
Hsu Mu and the four others, all peers from the same village, enjoyed each other's company.
Sheh Yu and Hsu Mu had a particularly close bond, having played together in the river as toddlers, sans clothing.
But as Sheh Yu grew up, her family's expectations tightened, and the days of frolicking with boys were over.
She had spent the last couple of years learning domestic skills, seemingly in preparation for marriage, which made her presence at the trial unexpected.
Sheh Yu shot Hsu Mu a wry look. "Who says I can't come? Dad's over the moon about my new baby brother. I'm here to try my luck, or else I'll end up married to that hideous brute in town!"
The "hideous brute" she referred to lived in a small town fifty miles from their village, which the locals grandly called a city.
He was the son of a medicine shopkeeper, surnamed Meng, and bore a large scar from childhood mischief that had marred his prospects for marriage.
Meng's family, though not wealthy, was respected, and his father had grown desperate to find him a bride from the village.
It was Meng's father who had helped Sheh Yu's mother during a difficult labor, and in the process, he had taken a liking to Sheh Yu, proposing her as his son's bride.
Sheh Yu's father, thrilled at the prospect of aligning with a city family, had eagerly agreed, only to later discover the groom's unfortunate appearance.
Old Master She, vain as he was, grudgingly accepted the match, reasoning that despite the groom's looks, the family was well-off and Sheh Yu wouldn't suffer.
Sheh Yu, however, was adamantly opposed, having no affection for a man she barely knew and who was disfigured. Her participation in the Liverlam Rise trial was a hard-won concession from her father.
Hsu Mu blushed as he recalled his own childhood declaration to marry Sheh Yu, though she seemed to have no memory of such a promise.
"Alright, everyone's acquainted, right? Let's get moving! Hop on the carriage, and let's not waste time," Steward Zhao directed, ushering the children onto a cart.
The youths, initially excited about the ride, quickly grew dismayed to find the carriage crammed with goods, leaving them nowhere to sit.
Their small mountain village wasn't typically included in the annual recruitment for disciples, so their participation was a bit of a favor.
To expect a special carriage was too much; they should be grateful for the opportunity.
After a jostling journey among sacks of groceries, Hsu Mu's rear was numb when Steward Zhao finally called out "Whoa!" and the carriage halted.
"Zhao the Stout, are you escorting your villagers back?" came a voice from outside.
Hsu Mu peered through the curtain to see a young man in his twenties, hair neatly tied, with a jaunty cloth bag slung at his waist.
"Heh, you got it. Is it your shift today, Brother Wang?" Despite being directly called Fatty Zhao, Steward Zhao wasn't the least bit upset. He called out to the folks in the carriage, "Hop out, kiddos!"
As he did so, Fatty Zhao subtly slipped a small pouch to the man. The recipient weighed it briefly before making it vanish with a deft flick of his wrist.
At the prompt, Hsu Mu and his companions clambered out of the carriage, nervously standing to the side. Their gazes were filled with envy as they looked at the man nearby. His name was Wang Zhi, an Outer Sect disciple of Liverlam Rise.
Though merely a disciple, his status was above that of an Outer Sect steward like Fatty Zhao, who lacked spiritual roots and was merely a mortal.
Fatty Zhao's stewardship was born of necessity; the role was too demanding for disciples who might otherwise be hindered in their cultivation.
Without spiritual roots, Hsu Mu and the others could only hope to be lower-tiered registered disciples, provided they had other redeeming qualities.
Registered disciples occupied the lowest rung at Liverlam Rise, burdened with menial tasks and at the beck and call of both Outer and Inner Sect disciples.
After a decade of service on the mountain, these disciples could leave with a substantial sum of money—more than they could ever hope to earn elsewhere in a lifetime.
Those who chose to stay, if they were clever enough, might rise to become Outer Sect stewards like Fatty Zhao.
Beyond that, a disciple's fate hinged on luck. A fortunate few might receive a gift from an immortal, a treasure of such rarity in the mortal realm that it could become a cherished family heirloom.
Legend has it that the renowned healer of Mirror Province, Xiao Longyou, was once such a disciple. An immortal, recognizing his innate intelligence, bestowed upon him an ancient tome of medicine.
Descending the mountain, Xiao Longyou dedicated himself to his studies and eventually emerged as a legendary physician.
His story is but one of countless others.
Thus, no one who ascended Liverlam Rise wished to leave hastily; at the very least, they aspired to be registered disciples of the mountain.
Returning to the matter at hand, Wang Zhi, noticing a group of children eyeing him with longing, offered a gentle smile and said, "Alright, follow me!"
