Xuanming Sect.
At the break of dawn, the horizon flushed with a faint violet glow. Towering palaces stood majestically atop distant mountains, shrouded in clouds and mist like a realm of immortals.
"Up ahead is the gate to Xuanming Sect!"
Standing at the bow of the spirit ship, Lu Taoyu called out with a clear voice, laced with a trace of pride.
"In a moment, you will begin your climb from the steps at the mountain gate. Reaching the hundredth step counts as a success. Once there, you will be teleported to the main hall! You have a time limit of three hours. If you exceed it or fail to reach the hundredth step, you'll be transported back to the foot of the mountain—where a spirit ship will take you home!"
"One last reminder—don't be arrogant. Hold fast to your heart, only then will you reach the end."
As Lu Taoyu finished, the spirit ship slowly descended.
A mighty force lifted the group into the air and, in moments, they arrived at the massive mountain gate.
Above the gate hung a great plaque engraved with three golden characters—Xuanming Sect. Every cultivator looking up at it felt an oppressive weight settle on their chest.
"Begin the climb! Reach the hundredth step to succeed! You have three hours!"
An aged voice, filled with Dao resonance, drifted from the mountaintop hall and echoed through the surrounding peaks.
Some bold cultivators stepped forward first. But the moment their feet landed on the steps, an invisible force crushed down, bending their bodies under intense pressure. Each step forward took every ounce of strength.
Several who rushed ahead without caution dropped to their knees under the pressure, their knees slamming hard onto the stone.
Chen Jinshu gazed up at the endless staircase, a faint weight settling over her heart.
"Since I've come this far, I can't give up now."
She pushed down her chaotic thoughts, steadied her breathing, and stepped onto the first stair. It was like stepping through a barrier. A hundred pounds of pressure slammed down on her. Her feet were pinned to the stone as if magnetized.
"This heavy?"
She recalled her second uncle once told her—the gravity on the first twenty steps should only be around fifty pounds, increasing by ten every ten steps.
But this time, even the first twenty steps started at a hundred pounds?
Her face turned pale, her legs trembling so badly she could barely stand. She immediately channeled her Healing Spring Technique into her legs. The unbearable pressure eased slightly. Pills and spiritual tools were forbidden during the trial—but spells were allowed.
She took her next step.
Gradually, she adapted to the hundred-pound force, found a rhythm, and her pace began to quicken. Soon, she reached the twentieth step. Just as her foot touched it, her surroundings shifted—and she suddenly found herself inside the Chen family ancestral hall.
She had returned to that day: the day she refused the engagement to the crippled heir of the Lin family. In front of her, a portrait artist was sketching her likeness.
Her mother, Chen Wu, sat nearby, watching with proud, gentle eyes.
Across from them was the clan leader, smiling widely.
"I won't marry him!" she snapped out of it instantly, shouting at the illusion. Her hand shot out, driving a golden needle toward the patriarch.
As the needle fell, the illusion shattered.
In an instant, she was back on the twentieth step.
She exhaled sharply, then fixed her gaze forward and continued her climb. She had heard of these illusions—they reflected the most deeply imprinted memories within the heart, designed to shake one's resolve.
But that old event had long faded for her. Her heart held only the Dao. So, the illusion didn't shake her much.
On the twenty-first step, the pressure did indeed increase by ten pounds. But having adapted to a hundred already, the extra ten barely registered. She began channeling spiritual power from her dantian into her limbs, further lightening the burden on her body.
As time passed, the skies brightened and the morning mist over the mountains thinned, revealing countless cultivators climbing the steps like ants on a hill. Some disciples had already reached the eightieth or ninetieth step, while others with weaker wills still struggled around the twenties or thirties.
Inside the main hall atop Tianyue Peak, several Golden Core elders were chatting casually while watching a massive water screen before them. The screen displayed real-time progress of the participants. Each cultivator's climb was being carefully recorded.
"This year's candidates are underwhelming," one elder remarked. "Only around a hundred have reached fifty steps after one full hour."
"I heard a beast tide hit several southern markets. Heavy losses. Most of the decent candidates got scooped up by Sword Edge Sect."
At that moment, Chen Jinshu reached the sixtieth step—and fell into her third illusion.
This time, she stood at Vulture Mountain. A terrible locust plague had ravaged the crops, leaving spiritual farmers destitute. They blamed her for their losses. Even Chen Huaiyang, someone she trusted, pointed fingers. Grief and indignation welled in her chest. No matter how she tried to explain, they wouldn't listen. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
Suddenly, she heard the call of a Shadowpeak Finch by her ear—an anchor of memory snapping her back.
She realized she was trapped in an illusion. Without hesitation, she struck out, disrupting the illusion until the scene faded away. Beads of sweat formed on her nose. Her heart pounded hard in her chest.
"That was close. I almost got trapped… thank Xiao YIn"
She sent a grateful thought to the Shadowpeak Finch Then cast Healing Spring on her legs again, recovered a little, and resumed her climb.
…
Another hour passed.
Chen Jinshu approached the hundredth step.
By now, her entire body was drenched in sweat. She'd been through five illusions, barely breaking free each time thanks to her firm will—and the sparrow. As her feet landed on the hundredth step, she vanished instantly. When she opened her eyes again, she was inside a magnificent, golden hall.
In front of her, five powerful elders sat watching a water screen, their gazes fixed forward. Chen Jinshu stared at the screen—realizing her entire trial had been visible to them.
"They saw the whole thing?!" she froze, stunned.
Soon, a wave of warm spiritual energy flowed into her, soothing every wound in her body.
"Congratulations, junior sister, for passing the Heart-Proving Path! Time taken: two hours and a quarter. You're the eighty-fifth to pass!"
Joy bloomed across her face. Fatigue faded, replaced by the bright light of relief.
"I made it!" She finally let the weight in her chest fall. Her rank wasn't high, but she was satisfied. She stepped toward the group of fellow disciples who had also passed.
In the blink of an eye, the three-hour mark arrived. The once-empty hall now held over a hundred disciples—but the total had just barely reached two hundred and fifty.
Out of more than five hundred applicants, only half passed. Now, Chen Jinshu truly understood what her second uncle meant: the third trial was the hardest.
"The trial is over! Congratulations to all who passed! Next is peak assignment! Medicine King Peak, you may begin!"
"I am Realman Liu Shang of Medicine King Peak. I will now announce the disciples accepted into our outer sect."
"Su Shuhan, excellent performance! Medicine King Peak outer sect!"
"Hao Chufeng, excellent performance! Medicine King Peak outer sect!"
…
"Chen Jinshu, excellent performance! Medicine King Peak outer sect!"