C1 Young Wang Ye

The night was enveloping, and the cold wind cut like a knife.

Inside the rickety thatched hut, a young man lay on an icy bed, curled up tightly, struggling to fall asleep.

The frigid wind swept through the window, relentlessly battering his slender frame as if it were a blade slicing through him.

He had endured many such nights and had grown accustomed to them. Normally, sleep would not elude him, but tonight was different; it was bound to be a restless one.

Tomorrow marked the Qing Xuan Sect's recruitment day for servants. Passing the exam would mean becoming a servant disciple—a coveted position for many.

Though a mere servant disciple, with enough strength and commendable performance, one could ascend to an outer sect disciple and become a Martial Cultivator, skyrocketing to great heights.

The young man had awaited this chance for two years, as one had to be at least sixteen to be considered by the Qing Xuan Sect.

Today, he had turned sixteen.

"I will pass the exam and become a Martial Cultivator to avenge my grandfather!" he vowed silently, fists clenched so tightly that his nails nearly pierced his palms, though he was oblivious to the pain.

...

At dawn, the young man opened his door to a blast of cold wind that made him shiver. The world outside was a blanket of white, the snowfall thicker than the night before.

"Wang Ye, heading out so early? You're not off to the Qing Xuan Sect's servant exam, are you?"

"You're not even as sturdy as my Hu Zi. I bet you'll get trampled before the exam even starts."

The jeers came from next door. Wang Ye couldn't be bothered to look up. Accustomed to his neighbors' taunts, he paid them no mind.

Misery loves company, and those who were unhappy themselves certainly didn't wish others well. Knowing Wang Ye was off to the Qing Xuan Sect's exam, they could only sneer in disdain.

Wang Ye shook his head, pulled out a fire piston from within his clothes, and under the astonished eyes of his neighbors, he ignited it and hurled it into the thatched hut. In moments, a fierce blaze erupted.

"Wang Ye, have you lost your mind? If you burn down the thatched hut and fail the assessment, you'll freeze to death!"

"If you don't want the hut, you could have left it for us. It would have been perfect for my Hu Zi to use when he gets married!"

Wang Ye ignored the murmurs and gossip. Once the hut was engulfed in flames and collapsed, he walked away.

He was determined to burn his bridges; if he couldn't pass the menial tasks examination at the Qing Xuan Sect, what was the point in returning?

If he couldn't avenge his grandfather, he would never come back.

After leaving the hut, Wang Ye headed to the back mountain, to a simple grave—his grandfather's resting place. Due to their poverty, there was not even a tombstone to mark it.

"Grandfather, I'm off to take the assessment! Rest assured, I will become a Martial Cultivator and avenge you!"

Standing before the grave with a grave expression, Wang Ye made a solemn vow to seek vengeance for his grandfather and to find peace for him as repayment for the kindness his grandfather had shown in raising him.

Since childhood, he had been raised by his grandfather, who was the only family he had ever known.

To support the family, his grandfather had worked as a laborer at the Lin Residence. Two years prior, he had accidentally broken his leg and was thrown out by the Lin family. When he demanded his due wages, they beat him to death.

Wang Ye was only fourteen at the time. He confronted the Lin Residence, only to be beaten nearly to death himself. He lay on the ground for a full day before he could carry his grandfather's body back home.

He sought assistance from his neighbors, but no one dared stand up for him—perhaps out of fear of the Lin family's influence or maybe due to the inherent coldness of human hearts.

From that day forward, his face never again bore a sunny smile. His sole focus was to become a Martial Cultivator and to exact revenge for his grandfather.

Yet to achieve that goal, he needed to join a sect; without even the basic techniques of cultivation, how could he hope to train and succeed?

The service examination at the Qing Xuan Sect represented a chance for him. If he could gain entry into the Qing Xuan Sect, he would become a Martial Cultivator, empowered to seek vengeance against the Lin Residence for his grandfather.

"Grandfather, I'm leaving now! Rest assured, one day, I will ensure that everyone at the Lin Residence pays for what they did to you!"

Wang Ye departed from the back mountain. The Qing Xuan Sect's examination was scheduled for noon, and with the sect dozens of miles away, punctuality was crucial. A moment's delay meant disqualification.

Rushing along, once he left the village, Wang Ye noticed an increasing number of travelers on the road, all heading in the same direction — toward the Qing Xuan Sect.

The Qing Xuan Sect's service examination was an annual spectacle, drawing participants from villages within hundreds of miles. Each year, the event attracted upwards of ten thousand hopefuls.

A burly man glanced at Wang Ye and chuckled, "Hey kid, are you also heading to the Qing Xuan Sect's service examination?"

Another hefty man advised, "Kid, you might as well turn back. You're as frail as a chicken; there's no way you'll pass."

The two men burst into laughter, but Wang Ye ignored them. While physical strength was important for the examination, it wasn't everything; perseverance was the true test.

He was confident that no one possessed more determination than he did. The Qing Xuan Sect's service examination was his to conquer, and he was resolute in his goal to pass.

Arriving at the Qing Xuan Sect before noon, Wang Ye was met with an overwhelming crowd, a testament to the examination's significance.

At the forefront stood two young men in green robes emblazoned with the "Qing Xuan" insignia, marking them as outer sect disciples of the Qing Xuan Sect and the overseers of the examination.

"Senior Brother Li, it seems there are even more participants this year than in the past," remarked the younger disciple, his gaze filled with admiration for his companion.

Li Muqing, accustomed to the fervor of the annual event, responded with a smile. "Every year, the competition is fierce, with countless aspirants vying for a place within the sect."

Suddenly, he had a thought and remarked, "Junior Brother Lin, I've heard your brother is participating in this year's disciple assessment. It makes sense why you'd join me in overseeing this matter."

"I'm just here to give the kid a bit of support. I'm counting on you, Senior Brother Li, to look out for him," Lin Yuan said with a smile, discreetly passing a small jade bottle to Li Muqing.

"Of course," Li Muqing replied, tucking the jade bottle into his sleeve. His smile deepened as he added, "As long as his aptitude isn't too poor, I'll ensure he passes the assessment."

"Much appreciated, Senior Brother Li," Lin Yuan responded, bowing slightly before falling silent. As outer disciples of the Green Mystique Sect, they were under close scrutiny and had to choose their words carefully.

"Senior Brother, my name is Zhang Hu. My father is the chief of Little River Village..."

Out of the blue, a portly man approached them. He dug into his robes and produced a hefty purse, inciting a wave of indignation from the onlookers.

Zhang Hu's pride swelled, and he grinned to himself, thinking, "Money really does work wonders! Dad was right; it can make even ghosts labor at the millstone—or even make the millstone labor for ghosts!"

With a smack, Zhang Hu's money pouch hit the ground. Lin Yuan declared sternly, "This is outrageous! The sect's assessments are known for their fairness and integrity. Such behavior will not be tolerated."

"Flaunt your dirty money again, and you'll be stripped of your assessment eligibility!" Li Muqing warned, though he took a mental note of Zhang Hu's potential.

"Senior Brother is formidable, truly worthy of the Green Mystique Sect!"

"Senior Brother, as an outer sect disciple and a Martial Cultivator, what could you possibly lack? Why would you covet his measly coins?"

The crowd erupted in applause, proud that the Green Mystique Sect lived up to its reputation. Indeed, this was how its disciples were expected to act.

Wang Ye also took note of Li Muqing and the others. When he caught sight of Lin Yuan, a chill ran down his spine, and he sensed trouble brewing.