Among the immense sea of people gathered below the grand stage, a young girl stood still, her presence almost invisible amidst the thousands pressing around her. Her clothes were tattered, the fabric clinging loosely to her frame, ripped at the edges by days of wear and hardship. Her face bore scratches and bruises, the residue of a life spent fleeing, surviving. Yet despite her battered appearance, her posture remained firm—unyielding.
She stood alone, isolated not just by space, but by destiny.
From his seat atop the high stage, Fang Ming's gaze swept across the crowd like a hawk watching over prey. His eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto her figure almost immediately.
There she is.
He narrowed his gaze slightly and thought to himself, That's my prey... Li Yao. A Daughter of Luck with blue-tier fate. A dormant phoenix bloodline slumbers within her… A flicker of intrigue passed through his eyes. Yes, this could indeed be useful. If I help her awaken her bloodline, I could certainly increase her favorability towards me...
A subtle smile curved across his lips, his mind amused by the thought.
I'm becoming more and more like a villain, he mused with silent laughter.
Beside him, Palace Master Li Tian had already noticed Fang Ming's focus, but he didn't draw any attention to it. With the grace and calm befitting a leader, he concealed the direction of Fang Ming's gaze from the other elders. Instead, he turned his head and glanced at the elder sitting directly opposite him.
The elder, understanding the silent message, stood up in response.
Clasping his hands behind his back, he strode gracefully to the edge of the stage. His robes were of deep celestial blue, embroidered with silver clouds and flowing dragons. The aura he exuded was both dignified and commanding—this was Elder Wang Shui, Second Palace Elder of the Divine Palace.
He raised his hand slightly, and his voice rang out, clear and firm.
"Quiet."
The word echoed like a bell, infused with spiritual power, silencing the murmuring crowd instantly. Even the wind seemed to pause.
He surveyed the masses and nodded in satisfaction. Then he spoke again, his voice as calm and steady as a mountain stream.
"I am the Second Palace Elder of the Divine Palace—Wang Shui. Today, as you all know, the Divine Palace will accept disciples. But know this: the path of cultivation is not a gift… it is earned through will, strength, and determination."
His eyes scanned the crowd with sharp scrutiny.
"The Divine Palace does not accept trash. We do not need waste."
As his stern words rang across the ceremonial grounds, a ripple of pressure swept through the gathered youths. Many tensed, swallowing hard under the weight of his gaze and words.
Back on the stage, the elder seated to the left of Palace Master Li Tian let out a soft sigh and leaned in slightly. A trace of amusement played on his face.
"Palace Master," he murmured with a chuckle, "It seems Senior Brother's habit of frightening the new disciples won't change even after all these years."
Li Tian let out a hearty laugh in response, his amusement shared by several other elders seated nearby. Their quiet laughter brought a brief moment of levity to the otherwise serious atmosphere.
Fang Ming, however, paid none of them any mind.
His attention remained firmly rooted on one person.
His gaze hadn't wavered since spotting her—Li Yao.
Down below, amidst the tightly packed crowd, Li Yao stood quietly. Her chest rose and fell with each breath as Elder Wang Shui's words sank into her heart. Her fingers curled slowly into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
I have to get accepted, she thought, determination burning in her eyes. No matter what, I must enter the Divine Palace… This is my only chance to avenge my family, my father…
The memory of her father's final words echoed in her ears, pushing her resolve to its limits. Even if I'm only accepted as an outer disciple… even if I must crawl... I will enter.
The fire of determination flared in her gaze.
Just then, a brilliant flash of spiritual light shimmered before the platform.
A long, radiant staircase materialized in the air, hovering slightly above the ground and extending skyward in a gentle arc. Each step glowed faintly, carved with ancient runes. There were exactly one thousand steps, each radiating pressure that could be felt even from the base.
The disciples gathered around looked up in awe.
Elder Wang Shui raised his hand again, speaking in an authoritative voice.
"This is how your worth will be tested."
He turned and gestured toward the floating staircase, his tone sharp and measured.
"Those who reach between 500 and 600 steps will be accepted as menial disciples. Those who climb to 600 to 700 steps will be outer disciples. Reaching 700 to 900 steps will qualify you as inner disciples. Those who ascend beyond 900 steps up to the 999th step will be accepted as core disciples."
He paused, his eyes sharp as he looked at the crowd below.
"And as for the 1000th step…"
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his voice lowered slightly with reverence.
"Forget it. In the last five thousand years, no one has set foot on that step—none except for Elder Fang Ming."
Gasps spread through the crowd like ripples across a pond. Dozens of eyes turned toward Fang Ming in awe and reverence.
But Fang Ming didn't react.
He sat still, calm and composed, his gaze never leaving Li Yao. A faint smile played on his lips as he watched her silently, like a hunter waiting for the right moment to act.
The test had begun.
And so had the game of fate.