Volume One: Youth Enters the World Chapter Eighty-Six: Defiance

The man in the azure robe swept his gaze over the crowd, pausing noticeably longer when it landed on Fang Tian. Fang Tian sensed that this man’s eyes lingered on him more than on anyone else, and felt a surge of puzzlement. He couldn’t fathom what about himself was worth such attention. Was it because of what had happened just now? But that hadn’t been his fault—why would the man look at him this way? No matter how he turned it over in his mind, Fang Tian could not find an answer.

The man’s gaze moved on, and as he looked over the crowd, he could see the eagerness on every face. Without further delay, he spoke in a calm tone, “Let me make this clear first: Qingxi Sect is not a place just anyone can enter. If you wish to join, you must meet our standards of talent. We will be selecting capable candidates to participate in the Hundred Islands Gathering.”

Just then, someone in the crowd piped up, “Then why are you so late? We’ve been waiting so long. Is this how Qingxi Sect always conducts itself?”

As soon as these words were spoken, murmurs of agreement spread throughout the crowd. It was clear that the long wait had left everyone a little resentful and dissatisfied.

Seeing the situation grow noisy, the man in the azure robe's eyes grew cold. Spiritual power gathered around him, and a wave of forceful pressure swept over the assembled crowd. Feeling the oppressive force bearing down on them, everyone instinctively circulated their own spiritual energy to resist, but still staggered back several steps under its might. Awe and unease crept into their hearts. The noisy voices stopped abruptly; everyone fell silent, cowed into submission by the man’s overwhelming presence.

Their earlier grievances had made them forget just where they were. But now they were quite sober: this was, after all, the very gates of Qingxi Sect. Acting up here would naturally displease the sect’s people.

Once the crowd had quieted, the man continued, “The affairs of Qingxi Sect are not for you to question. Our lateness had its reasons—do not let your thoughts wander. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded; no one dared to protest further.

“Since time is short, the entrance test will begin now. Beside me is a spirit-testing stone. All you need do is place your hand upon it—it will reveal your cultivation level and age. There will be two rounds of selection. This first test examines your innate talent.”

“Who will go first?”

A young man in plain clothes stepped forth from the crowd and said, “I’ll go.” The man in the azure robe gestured for him to approach the spirit-testing stone. The youth walked up, placed his hand on the stone, and a blue light flared, dazzling every eye. After a moment, the glow faded, and two numbers appeared at the top of the stone: twenty-one and seven.

“Age, twenty-one; cultivation, seventh level of Spirit Gathering. You pass. Wait at the back,” the man in the azure robe said with satisfaction.

The young man, delighted at his success, clenched his fists in quiet triumph and moved to stand behind the man in the azure robe, joining two disciples already there. One of them handed him a bamboo tablet to record his name, and the youth wrote his full name upon it.

“Next.”

Another stepped up and placed his hand on the stone. The numbers appeared: eighteen and four.

The man in the azure robe frowned. “Your age is acceptable, but your cultivation is insufficient. You do not qualify.”

The youth sighed, stamped his foot, and walked away, head hanging in disappointment.

Another soon followed; his numbers were twenty and six.

“Qualified,” the man in the azure robe said softly. The youth smiled, a touch of pride on his face, and joined the previous qualifiers.

“Next.”

Suddenly, a melodious, bell-like female voice rang out. “I’ll go.”

Everyone turned to look, and saw a woman slowly step from the crowd to the spirit-testing stone. Clad in form-fitting black attire, her ponytail cascaded down like a waterfall, and the tight outfit accentuated every graceful curve of her figure. Her hands were delicate, her skin like flawless jade, and her star-like eyes shimmered quietly. Whether it was an illusion or something more, her features radiated a subtle allure that drew the gaze irresistibly. A gentle smile from her was as refreshing as a spring breeze, impossible to resist.

Such beauty was rare indeed.

Many present found themselves captivated, their eyes betraying the instincts of men. How had they not noticed such a stunning woman in their midst before? What a pity—if only they had realized, perhaps they could have gotten closer to her. Even a brief conversation would have been worth coming, even if they failed the entrance test.

To touch such a woman, even in passing, would surely leave any man floating on air, never wishing to return to earth.

Hungry, wolfish eyes stared unabashedly, as if they had forgotten why they were here in the first place.

Out of curiosity, even Fang Tian stole a few glances. He had to admit this woman was the most beautiful he had ever seen, and even he could not help but look a few more times. After all, to appreciate beauty is only human nature, especially for a man. But he was more composed than the others, not staring so boldly.

After all, it was rude to fixate on a woman so brazenly. So after a few glances, he averted his gaze.

The woman extended a fair, slender hand to the spirit-testing stone. Light flashed, and numbers appeared.

When the numbers became visible, the crowd gasped in astonishment. “Sixteen? Seven?”

These numbers left everyone stunned. Such talent was the mark of a true prodigy. None could believe that in this remote corner of the continent, someone with such natural gifts had emerged. Whose family had produced such an extraordinary descendant? Surely, with such talent, she would be selected by one of the great powers at the Hundred Islands Gathering. With the right resources, who could imagine how far she might go?

Their gazes withdrew; no one dared stare at her as before. To offend such a woman would be asking for trouble.

Fang Tian, too, felt a jolt of shock. This talent surpassed his own. Yet, by rights, there should not have been someone of such caliber in the Northern Sands Archipelago—most here could never attain such cultivation at so young an age.

But it seemed he was not the only exception. Just because he was different from the others did not mean no one else could be. The world was vast and full of wonders; Fang Tian realized his own perspective was still too narrow. The longer one walked the world, the more marvels one would encounter.

“An excellent talent. You pass,” the man in the azure robe said with a smile, clearly pleased by this unexpected discovery.

The woman, having passed the test, moved lightly to stand behind the man in the azure robe, drawing envious glances from all.

One after another, candidates stepped forward to be tested. Sometimes the man in azure frowned, sometimes he nodded; few passed, and only a handful stood out. Most who qualified were just barely adequate.

Those who failed saw little point in lingering and began to drift away down the mountain. Soon, only a handful of untested candidates and a few onlookers remained. When those few had finished, it was finally Fang Tian’s turn.

The troublemaker from before, now standing among the spectators, had not been chosen due to his age exceeding the limit. He watched Fang Tian closely, eager to see if this youth had some hidden talent—perhaps he was a preselected candidate of Qingxi Sect.

Fang Tian stepped forward and placed his hand on the stone. The numbers appeared: twenty-one and five.

The man in the azure robe shook his head. “Not qualified.”

At once, the troublemaker burst out laughing and shouted from the crowd, “Brother, I misjudged you! Turns out you’re just taking it easy because you know you’re not up to the mark. I thought you were some kind of genius—my apologies!”

The crowd joined in the laughter, casting sidelong glances at Fang Tian. They had thought, with his age and cultivation, he might be impressive, but he was less capable than even some of those who failed earlier. They realized they had misread him.

Fang Tian ignored them and looked calmly at the man in the azure robe. “I refuse to accept this result.”

The man looked at him in surprise. “What is it you refuse to accept?”

“Is talent really judged solely by age and cultivation?” Fang Tian replied, his eyes steady.

The man stroked his chin, thinking for a moment. “Is it not?”

“You’re not wrong,” Fang Tian replied, “but I believe there is something else just as important.”

Intrigued, the man smiled. “And what might that be? Do tell.”

Fang Tian drew his Coldfeather Sword and lightly scored the ground, a trail of frost marking its path. He looked at the man and pronounced each word deliberately: “Strength.”

Having said this, Fang Tian’s aura surged, his whole body taut like a bowstring ready to snap at a touch.

“This kid’s crazy! Does he really mean to fight?”

“So arrogant—does he even know his limits?”

“Who does he think he is?”

“He’s hopeless, hopeless. I can’t bear to watch what happens next.”

“He’s digging his own grave, that’s for sure.”

The crowd could not fathom Fang Tian’s actions.

Yet the man in the azure robe did not grow angry. Instead, his expression was gentle as he said, “Young man, don’t fill your head with unrealistic ideas. The gap in cultivation is not so easily bridged.”

A confident smile played at Fang Tian’s lips. “How will we know if we don’t try? I am determined to enter this sect.”

“Very well, I’ll give you a chance. If your attack can force me to take even a single step, you pass,” the man replied. Amused by Fang Tian’s persistence, he signaled the others to step back lest they be caught in the exchange.

Soon, a space cleared, leaving only Fang Tian and the man in the azure robe standing opposite each other.

“Forgive me, then.”

In the next instant, Fang Tian’s figure vanished as he charged forward, sword in hand, straight at the man. He didn’t intend to use his full strength—if he did, who knew what might happen? He preferred to keep a low profile; achieving his goal would be enough.

He held back, using only sixty percent of his power—the equivalent of the seventh level of the Spirit Gathering Realm.

Seeing Fang Tian’s fierce approach, the man in the azure robe raised his palm, eyes sharpening, spiritual energy flaring as he met Fang Tian’s onslaught head-on.