All schemes have been exhausted.

After the banquet, everyone sought their own destinations. The young disciples who had arrived from various places were itching to showcase their skills, but one thing was peculiar: many had heard of the Xunyuan Forest Valley, yet no one seemed to know its actual location. Outside the city of Jinyu, the land lay open and empty; even a hundred miles in any direction, there was no mention of any forest or valley. Those students who had hoped to glimpse the exam ahead of time were sorely disappointed. But when the appointed day arrived, everyone looked skyward; a booming voice rang out, echoing through the entire city.

That day, everyone learned they simply needed to head outside the city.

On the broad avenues of Jinyu, crowds surged like tides, streaming toward the four city gates. Zhang Ling and Song Linjie arrived at the western gate, not in haste to leave, and found a teahouse to sit and rest. Zhang Ling ordered a bitter mountain tea—hardly a famous brew, but for those who love tea, the lingering taste of mild bitterness is uniquely cherished. Especially while traveling alone, such tea surpasses sweet nectar; it quenches thirst and deepens the solitude of solitary journeys.

When the other two arrived, Zhang Ling insisted they wait until most people had left before setting out. It wasn’t to appear unique; Zhang Ling simply enjoyed the bustle of the marketplace but disliked taking part in it, always feeling an uneasy sense of being a stone sunk in the sea. The other three didn’t press him, and Zhang Ling didn’t explain—just a simple, dull reason.

Once outside the city, the scene became clear: sheer cliffs surrounded them, with only the northern horizon visible. Everyone found themselves within a forest valley, jagged rocks rising everywhere, strangely shaped trees growing in disarray, and vines draping thickly.

Those who entered began moving northward. Not far from the four, a group who tried to rush straight through were pierced in the head by hidden weapons concealed among rocks and trees. Further away, someone attempted to stand on a tree and hurl stones to clear the traps, but the vines turned into poisonous snakes, biting his neck and killing him instantly.

Zhang Ling sighed at the sight—was this a trial, or an outright slaughter? A large crowd who had advanced some distance began to retreat; each had thought their skills would suffice, disregarding the academy’s warnings of danger. Now, they realized their recklessness—a mere academy disciple’s status was nothing compared to the value of their lives.

Facing forward, Zhang Ling asked his three companions, “Shall we go on?”

Song Linjie charged ahead, and the other three followed closely. Barely a few steps in, arrows hidden in the shadows flew at them from several directions. Song Linjie spun his blade, blocking all arrows from one side. Ye Yumi, gifted with exceptional hearing, dodged before the concealed weapons arrived. Tang Yong dropped to the ground, and two waves of arrows converged, all aimed at Zhang Ling. He stood still, eyes closed, head tilted slightly, left hand raised to brush aside several arrows, using the opportunity to hone his reflexes. The rest either lodged in odd rocks or trees, thinner trees pierced through, smaller stones blasted into gravel.

The four pressed forward, fending off venomous snakes—Song Linjie, wielding the domineering blade technique, sliced them into pieces in an instant. Yet stones fell from above out of nowhere. Even Song Linjie, after catching one, felt his internal energy disturbed; a few more would inflict serious injury. Forced to quicken their pace, the four stayed close enough to watch over one another.

Song Linjie led the way, leaping up with momentum to split a massive boulder in two, which crashed onto a tree and brought it down with a thunderous roar. Once the rocks settled, the four slowed again. Tang Yong marveled, “Such a trial—ordinary disciples wouldn’t dare enter. If I were alone, I might not make it out.”

Zhang Ling replied calmly, “This must be a formation. I’ve heard before, elaborate formations like this require grandmasters to control, yet their power is rarely overwhelming.”

Ye Yumi retorted, “You call this not overwhelming? Less than an hour and so many have died!”

Zhang Ling explained, “I’ve never heard of a large-scale formation with both complexity and power. That means this isn’t a killing formation, but an illusion formation. The dangers and deaths are meant to scare off those incompetent and timid. But that’s only a guess—don’t risk your life needlessly.”

Near the exit, a dozen or so with barely passable skills ran about frantically, none daring to approach the exit. A glance behind revealed the once motionless rocks sprouting limbs; each caught someone and smashed down with stone fists the size of soup pots, blood splattering everywhere, staining the stone monsters red, as if fiends from hell had climbed forth, vicious beyond measure.

Unable to suppress their fear, several fled back. At the exit, dozens of stone monsters guarded tightly; even those attempting to glide past with exceptional agility were struck down by deceptively nimble stone monsters, then mobbed and crushed into pulp.

A young man in work clothes displayed remarkable skill; though he failed several times to break through the stone monsters, he managed to retreat unharmed. He still had energy to spare, running forward when suddenly a sharp aura appeared—a stone monster behind him fired an arrow deadly enough to end his life. The young man spun, flinging a throwing blade to deflect the arrow, then raised his sleeve, launching a featherless arrowhead that struck precisely before the mechanism on the stone monster could close. The monster cracked from within, and with a deafening crash, its stone body shattered, leaving only broken pieces. Before he could react, another headless stone monster lunged, its thick arms tightly wrapping him. But before it could crush him, a golden cord dropped from a tree, hoisting the monster, and the youth kicked it, snapping the monster’s bound torso in two.

Seeing his skills and resourcefulness, the others recognized him as a first-class expert. One who had managed to shake off a pursuing stone monster approached him and said, “Brother, we all want to pass this trial. With these stone monsters everywhere, no one can make it alone. How about we join forces: we’ll distract them, you strike when you can. What do you say?”

The youth in work clothes toyed with a double-edged knife, not even glancing at him, and replied contemptuously, “No deal. With your clumsy skills, working with you would be a loss for me. You don’t even qualify to negotiate, and I won’t keep a herd of useless fools as pets.”

The young man’s demeanor cooled, retorting, “You can’t get through either. Even if you handle one or two, the rule is to pass before sunset. By the time you finish off all these monsters, you’ll be out of time.”

The youth scoffed, picking his ear, still not looking at him, “None of your business.”

Knowing there’d be no alliance, the young man left without a backward glance, quickly mingling with other mediocre fellows. The youth in work clothes stroked his chin in thought; the stone monsters could jump up to nine feet—using a grappling hook, he might scale the cliffs. But who knew how far those cliffs really were? As he pondered, he suddenly remembered the Wuma Bird he carried. He pulled out a pile of parts and quickly assembled a crude mechanical bird, tossing it into the air. It sprang to life, wings flapping as it flew toward the nearest cliff. He thought, if only he had the Blue Eagle Kite, he could fly straight across.

Watching the mechanical bird fly off, he glanced at the reckless group. Among them, a vigorous young man wielded a frost-silver long blade, neither running nor dodging, fighting a stone monster shaped like a mule. Each strike sent chips of stone flying, but barely harmed the monster. Instead, the young man was battered repeatedly, sustaining minor injuries, yet he fought more fiercely, refusing to retreat. Compared to the utterly helpless others, he was slightly better—though for the youth in work clothes, even that was barely worth noticing.

He called out, “Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

The robust young man, knowing he was outmatched, didn’t stubbornly persist. Fending off a blow, he leapt back, grabbed a thin, weak youth, and hurled him forward. The stone monster struck down, killing the frail youth instantly.