Chapter Thirteen : The Gate of Ten Thousand Dreams
The Great Qi Dynasty ruled over a vast and boundless land. Apart from the royal family, the undisputed supreme power of the realm, three top-tier sects stood out as pillars of strength—Lingyue Sect was one of them.
With deep roots in the Great Qi, Lingyue Sect had long maintained close ties with the imperial court. Many court officials sent their children to cultivate there, and disciples who graduated from the sect often held official positions within the dynasty.
Every year, in early July, Lingyue Sect opened its gates to accept new disciples. Countless youths would flock to the mountain gates, carrying dreams of immortality and hoping for the chance to step onto the path of the Dao.
Most of those who came had already succeeded in sensing qi—proof that they had the foundation required for cultivation. The rest were wide-eyed aspirants, drawn by longing and hope, despite lacking even the means to detect their own spiritual roots or aptitude. They came to try their luck.
But as one of the elite sects of the dynasty, Lingyue didn't accept just anyone. Only those with exceptional overall talent—whether it was physical constitution, spiritual roots, or innate perception—stood a chance. The mediocre would never make it past the gate.
Thus, Lingyue Sect had established a strict entrance exam. It was scheduled to begin at noon, yet some had already arrived at dawn.
Whether they'd pass or not, one thing was certain—they were early!
Fang Ting and Fang Mu Ge had just left Lingyue City and boarded their flying vessel when the father-son duo, Cui Damin and Cui Shan, zipped past them from behind on a flying shuttle.
As they passed, Cui Damin even shot Fang Ting a provocative glance.
"So childish," Fang Ting scoffed coldly. With a flick of his fingers and a hand seal, his vessel surged forward in speed, chasing after them.
Lingyue City was only a hundred miles from the sect's mountain gate. Along the way, Fang Ting and Cui Damin were locked in a quiet, competitive struggle—racing at full speed with their flying treasures.
There was no reward for winning, but pride demanded it.
Unfortunately, although their cultivation levels were on par, their equipment was not. Fang Ting's vessel was a high-grade Yellow-tier artifact, while Cui Damin's was a low-grade Mystic-tier one—an entire tier above.
Naturally, that gave Cui Damin a significant speed advantage.
In the end, Cui Damin reached the sect gates first.
He stood tall atop his shuttle like a victorious general returning from battle, hands behind his back, shooting a sidelong smirk at Fang Ting.
"So this is your limit? I haven't even used my full power yet."
Beside him, Cui Shan winked and made smug faces at Fang Mu Ge, clearly enjoying their triumph.
Fang Ting said nothing, though his expression was unreadable.
Sure, Cui Damin had only won because of his superior flying treasure—but a win's a win. If he didn't have the tools, that was his own problem. The world was never fair.
The Cui family had a much stronger foundation than the Fang family. If Cui Damin had more clout within his clan, he might have already brought their experts to eliminate Fang Ting outright.
Fang Mu Ge silently clenched his fists at the thought.
"I normally wouldn't bother with someone like Cui Shan," he thought to himself, "but since you insist on acting up, you'd better be ready to get slapped in the face."
The scene at Lingyue Sect's mountain gate was packed with people—tens of thousands, at the very least.
But not all of them were here to join the sect. Some, like Fang Ting and Cui Damin, had come to accompany others.
Still others represented different factions, here for a different reason entirely: to recruit the ones Lingyue Sect rejected.
It was far more efficient than scouting talent one by one.
No one felt embarrassed about picking through Lingyue's "leftovers." This was Lingyue Sect, after all. Failing to get in didn't mean one lacked talent—just that the bar was set absurdly high.
Each year, many who failed Lingyue's exam were quickly snatched up by other powers.
Families like the Fang and Cui clans, though, rarely recruited outsiders. They barely had enough resources to cultivate their own.
"Father," Cui Shan asked, "did you come to take the Lingyue Sect entrance exam back in the day? Is it really that hard?"
"The clan leader wanted me to, but I refused," Cui Damin said, eyes distant with memory.
"Why?" Cui Shan pressed curiously.
"Because I wanted to stay in the clan and contribute more!" Cui Damin replied righteously.
Fang Ting nearly burst out laughing.
That's word for word what I said…
Cui Shan was visibly moved by his father's noble spirit.
Cui Damin continued, "The Lingyue exam is extremely difficult. They test your physical roots, your spiritual perception, and your core willpower. Each year, twenty thousand apply, but only about a thousand make it."
Lingyue Sect maintained its top-tier status precisely because it constantly drew in the best and brightest.
A pass rate of one in twenty guaranteed quality disciples.
"That many get eliminated?!" Cui Shan gasped.
He had been confident in himself—after all, the elders often praised his talent. But now, doubt crept into his heart.
Cui Damin quickly reassured him, "Don't worry. With your talent, unless something unexpected happens, you'll definitely pass."
Cui Shan had just begun to relax when Fang Mu Ge's voice drifted in, as if from the shadows.
"What if something unexpected does happen?"
Cui Damin spun around, furious. "You damn brat! Can't you shut up?! You're the one something bad's gonna happen to! Your whole family's gonna have bad luck!"
Fang Ting narrowed his eyes and spoke coldly. "Cui Damin, there's still time before the exam. It's been a while since we've sparred. How about a quick match?"
Cui Damin took two steps back, pretending not to hear.
He'd grown lazy in recent years, indulging in pleasures instead of honing his skills. Compared to others of his level, he was far weaker in actual combat.
Back when he had the edge in cultivation, he could beat Fang Ting—but never kill him.
Now that they were equal in realm, he knew full well he stood no chance.
At least he had the self-awareness to recognize that.
Fang Ting's current cultivation techniques and martial skills were all Earth-tier. Taking down Cui Damin would be easy—if the opportunity arose where he could do it without alerting the Cui family, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.