Chapter Three: The Selection of Disciples by the Imperial Sect

In the midst of his dream, Lin Xiaobao suddenly felt as if he had fallen into a sea of fire. His entire body was unbearably hot, so much so that he thought he might turn to ashes in the next moment from the searing heat.

As he slept, Lin Xiaobao suddenly shouted aloud, waking from the dream. His fists were clenched tightly, and he gasped for breath, his body drenched in sweat.

Gradually regaining his composure, Lin Xiaobao stretched lazily, and indeed, the pain in his body had vanished without a trace. He was not surprised in the least by this phenomenon.

Three years ago, Lin Xiaobao had discovered that no matter how severely he was injured or how gravely ill, as long as he had that strange dream, he would awaken completely healed, as if nothing had happened. This was also why, despite Hu Youcheng offering him a handsome sum for his story, Lin Xiaobao dared not continue fabricating it.

He pushed open the door as the sun stood high in the sky. Lin Xiaobao hurriedly snatched a shriveled sweet potato from the table and rushed out—there was only half an hour left before the moment that might change his fate.

Wind and Snow Pavilion: the once-a-decade selection of outer disciples.

Wind and Snow Pavilion was renowned throughout Ningfeng Kingdom. It was like a deity, guarding the nation, the great sect that protected Ningfeng. According to rumors, even the imperial succession required the Pavilion’s approval. To be chosen by the Pavilion—even as an outer disciple—was a leap into greatness.

Nie Yun, lord of Howling Moon City, was only at the seventh stage of postnatal martial cultivation, yet he became ruler of an entire city thanks to his daughter Nie Feiyan. Ten years ago, during the selection, her extraordinary talent for formations caught the eye of the Pavilion’s Grand Elder, who took her as a personal disciple. Thus, Nie Yun stood out among the city’s strong, ascending to his position.

Though Lin Xiaobao had already been sentenced to death by the Zhenwei Martial Hall, he believed that, as someone who had traversed worlds, he must possess some remarkable qualities—surely Zhenwei Martial Hall had failed to recognize gold inlaid with jade.

With this thought, Lin Xiaobao ran even faster, watching the shadows of trees retreat as he sped along.

Passing the spot where he’d saved the girl the day before, he found she was long gone. He had no desire to see that ungrateful girl again—mainly because he feared another beating. From her perspective, he had taken advantage of her while she was unconscious.

At the riverbank, he scooped up a handful of water and swallowed the last bite of sweet potato. Lin Xiaobao continued his mad dash. He took the bracelet from his pocket, holding it in his hand, to assure himself that yesterday’s events were not a dream.

Seeing the shallowly engraved character Lin on the bracelet, he wondered if the girl’s surname was also Lin. If so, were they kin from five hundred years ago? Lin Xiaobao quickly shook his head. Even if they were family, he should not keep what wasn’t his. He would pawn the bracelet soon for a few coins—he hadn’t tasted meat in nearly a month.

Reaching the end of the moat, passing through the gate, and entering the city, Lin Xiaobao pushed himself harder, feeling not the slightest fatigue.

Howling Moon Square sprawled over nearly a hundred acres. At its center, three supports entwined upward, bearing a golden crescent, suspended above the square like a moon.

By the time Lin Xiaobao arrived, the square was packed with people. Excitement and anxiety were written on every face, for they stood at the threshold of a great turning point. To be chosen meant instant success and prosperity for the whole family.

Anxious, many whispered to each other.

As people discussed who might be selected by Wind and Snow Pavilion, a group emerged from the rear of the square. City Lord Nie Yun stood at the center, but unlike his usual commanding presence, he seemed nervous. On either side stood men in plain earth-colored robes, yet their spirited bearing exuded an invisible pressure.

Especially the two figures flanking Nie Yun—they gave off an ethereal, elusive impression. Though they stood there, they seemed impossible to truly see or touch.

“What comes next, I believe you all know. I won’t waste words. Any youth under eighteen may join the selection. Whether you are chosen depends on your own fortune,” Nie Yun said, still somewhat uneasy.

His words were like a starting pistol for a race. As soon as he finished, the square erupted, everyone already familiar with the Pavilion’s rules. Participants entered different areas for testing based on their age.

Such rules were meant to give everyone an equal chance. After all, potential varies with age. But Lin Xiaobao deeply disliked this system.

What did Wind and Snow Pavilion want? They wanted geniuses! Geniuses should not be bound by convention. Is it truly genius if chosen through fair competition?

Of course, Lin Xiaobao didn’t hold this view because he thought himself a genius; on the contrary, he considered himself a good-for-nothing. If there were no age divisions, he could blend in with the younger children and perhaps muddle through. Now, it all depended on luck.

Sixteen-year-old group test: after Lin Xiaobao struggled to squeeze through the crowd, he found the area packed to overflowing. Though family members were not allowed, nearly every sixteen-year-old in the city was here.

Scanning the crowd, Lin Xiaobao immediately regained his confidence. Even Wang Dashu from South Street dared to come—what was there to fear?

Wang Dashu was not truly stupid, just so honest he seemed a bit slow. Over time, except for his parents, everyone forgot his real name. If someone like him dared to join, Lin Xiaobao felt a surge of courage.