Chapter 4

Master Yue spoke loudly before the crowd: “Listen well—follow the narrow path through the bamboo grove to reach the Bone Refining Cliff of the Seven Mysteries Sect. The first stretch is the bamboo grove, then comes the cliff face, and finally a precipice. Only those who reach the cliff’s summit may enter the Seven Mysteries Sect. If you fail to arrive before noon, you cannot become a formal disciple—but if you show promise, you may be taken on as a recorded disciple.”

Han Li naturally did not understand what “recorded disciple” meant, but he knew he had to keep moving forward and climb a mountain. He gazed ahead: a slope that wasn’t steep, covered with thick and thin bamboo stalks—it didn’t seem too hard to climb!

Han Li glanced at the others; he refused to lose to his peers. The atmosphere among the other children had suddenly grown tense.

Master Yue glanced at the rising sun and said: “The time is nearly here. Prepare to depart. Don’t be afraid—your senior brothers will follow behind and guard you. You won’t be put in danger.”

Han Li turned to look at the youths behind him. So these were called “senior brothers”—probably former disciples. If he joined too, could he wear the same impressive clothes?

While he was daydreaming, Han Li noticed the other children had already rushed into the bamboo grove. Seeing this, he hurried after them.

The bamboo grove was vast—over thirty children scattered instantly upon entering. A tall, thin senior brother closely followed Han Li, his face cold and silent. Han Li felt uneasy and dared not speak to him, only lifting his feet, hunching low, and slowly ascending the slope.

The bamboo grove looked unremarkable, but the longer he walked, the heavier his legs became. Gradually, Han Li had to use one hand to grip the bamboo stalks slightly to move forward, conserving energy.

He held on for a long time, exhausted beyond measure, and finally plopped down on a random mound of earth, gasping for breath.

Han Li stole a glance back at the tall senior brother. Though the ground was steep, the man stood perfectly still, not a speck of dust on him, as upright as the bamboo, quietly watching him from just below.

Seeing the senior brother’s cold gaze, Han Li grew fearful again and quickly turned his head forward. He heard heavy breathing ahead—others who had climbed faster were resting too. After lingering a moment longer, he hurried upward.

The slope grew steeper. Han Li’s strength dwindled further. To avoid collapsing mid-step, he bent low and crawled on hands and knees. Luckily, his clothes were sturdy—otherwise, his knees and elbows would have been rubbed raw.

Finally, he neared the edge of the dense bamboo grove, yet Han Kui felt the last stretch growing harder. Rocks increasingly replaced the ground; bamboo grew scarcer.

Han Li could no longer pull himself forward by bamboo stalks. The final stretch was measured in inches.

Stepping out of the bamboo, he saw before him a vast expanse: a colossal rock face ahead, upon which several small figures were slowly climbing. Each was followed by a senior brother dressed identically. Han Li no longer hesitated—he sprinted toward the giant rock wall.

The rock face consisted of layered, stacked strata, heavily eroded. Some sections crumbled at the slightest touch, while others remained stubbornly sharp. Within the span of a single meal, Han Li’s hands were covered in wounds; his elbows and knees had torn through his clothes, his skin cut in many places. Though the cuts were small, fine rock fragments seeped into them, intensifying the pain.

The front-runners were climbing farther away. Han Li remembered his father and third uncle’s warnings—he gritted his teeth inwardly and climbed on, laboriously.

Before departure, his father and third uncle had warned Han Li the entrance test would be grueling; if he didn’t push through to the end, he could never join the Seven Mysteries Sect. At this moment, Han Li no longer cared whether he’d be accepted—he was driven by sheer stubbornness. A stubborn fire burned inside him—he had to catch up to the others.

Han Li looked up with effort. The lead climber was Wu Yan. Wu Yan was more than a year older than Han Li and had trained in martial arts; his body was far stronger than the other children’s. His lead was unsurprising.

Han Li glanced back again. Several figures still moved below. He drew a breath and pushed forward faster.

He used every last ounce of strength, yet still couldn’t close the gap with the front-runners. His body grew heavier. The sun climbed toward the zenith. Wu Yan had already reached the top of the rock wall.

There stood a sheer, vertical cliff over thirty zhang high. Dozens of hemp ropes hung from its summit, each tied with fist-sized knots. Wu Yan was now climbing one, inching slowly upward.

Han Li watched Wu Yan ahead and felt discouraged. He knew he could never catch the front-runners—and time was running out.

The moment this thought arose, the wounds on his elbows and knees flared with searing pain. His limbs went limp. His grip on the rock trembled—and suddenly, he slipped. His heart pounded wildly. He slammed himself flat against the cliff face, not daring to move again.

After a while, his mind calmed. He reached out again, grasped a protruding rock ledge, tugged a few times—it held firm. He finally relaxed.

Unconsciously, Han Li glanced back. The senior brother was crouching, arms spread wide, ready to protect him. Seeing Han Li safe, he slowly stood upright.

Han Li felt a surge of gratitude. If he’d fallen, all his effort would have been wasted. After a brief rest, he slowly moved forward again, heading toward the thick hemp ropes dangling from the cliff.

He finally reached an empty rope. The sun hovered nearly at the sky’s zenith—less than half an hour remained before noon. Wu Yan had already reached the cliff top and turned to look down. As Han Li reached the rope’s base, he caught sight of Wu Yan, who raised his arm and flicked his little finger twice toward those below, then burst into loud, mocking laughter before leaving.

Han Li’s heart burned with anger. He grabbed the rope and began climbing.

But Han Li had no strength left—not a single ounce. He could barely grip the knots.

After forcing himself up to the final knot, he collapsed onto it, his entire body limp, not even a finger able to move. He turned his head with effort. Behind him, several children sat on the rock face, gasping heavily—just like him, they’d used their last reserves.

Han Li could only smile bitterly. He’d underestimated this test. At least he hadn’t fallen to the very back. He glanced again at the cold senior brother. After a moment’s hesitation, he mustered what little strength remained and climbed a bit higher. Even if he couldn’t reach the summit before noon, to stop now would be too humiliating!

Han Kui stretched his stiff hands, summoning the faint strength he’d regained, and slowly inched upward along the knots. But his hands no longer obeyed him—he couldn’t grip the rope at all. He struggled for a while, achieving nothing.

WWW.feiazw.COM website