The restless murmurs that filled the arena did not fade on their own.
They were cut off.
Madam Yan's voice descended over the colosseum like the clear strike of a ceremonial bell—calm, measured, yet carrying a quiet authority that left no room for defiance.
"Candidates of the Golden Sparrow Guild," she began, her tone even, "the trial begins."
The effect was immediate. Conversations died mid-sentence. Shuffling feet stilled. Even the nervous energy that had been building among the candidates seemed to draw inward, coiling beneath the surface.
"Today, you will face the first test—the measure of your Qi."
Lu Mao exhaled slowly as the words settled across the arena. He lifted his gaze, letting it sweep across the vast space with deliberate calm.
The colosseum felt even larger now that it was silent. Stone walls rose high into the sky, their curved structure enclosing the arena like a massive bowl. Layers of balconies circled above, filled with elders and senior disciples whose presence pressed down like unseen weight. None of them spoke, yet their attention was unmistakable.
They were watching.
Not casually.
Not with curiosity.
They were measuring.
Lu Mao could feel it in the way the air itself seemed heavier, as though every movement below was being recorded, evaluated, judged.
At the center of the arena stood the object of the first trial.
A square-based pyramid of crystal, no taller than a man's chest.
It looked simple at first glance, but the longer Lu Mao observed it, the more unsettling it became. Light struck its surface and scattered in unnatural clarity, each reflection too precise, too clean. It did not merely reflect the world—it seemed to reveal it.
Or strip it.
A figure stepped forward, robes shifting softly with his movement.
High Elder Ji Han.
Lu Mao felt the change immediately. Where Madam Yan's presence had been sharp and controlled, Ji Han's was vast in a quieter way. It didn't press or overwhelm—it simply existed, like a sky that stretched endlessly beyond sight.
"Step forward one by one," Ji Han said, his voice steady and without inflection. "Place your hand upon the stone, release your Qi, and let the trial reveal your nature."
No explanation followed. None was needed.
The first candidate approached.
A young boy, his steps unsteady, shoulders tight with barely contained nerves. He hesitated before the crystal, his hand hovering above it for a brief moment before finally making contact.
The reaction was immediate.
Qi surged outward, uneven and uncontrolled. The tip of the pyramid flickered, struggling to stabilize before settling into a faint yellow glow.
"Qi level: weak," Ji Han announced.
The boy swallowed hard, nodding as he quickly stepped aside. A dull yellow badge formed at the base of the crystal, and he snatched it up before moving toward the designated area.
The next candidate followed.
Then another.
And another.
The process was simple, almost deceptively so, yet the tension in the arena only grew with each passing result.
Yellow.
Orange.
Occasionally a stronger orange, but nothing beyond.
Each color carried weight. It wasn't just a measure of strength—it was a silent declaration of potential, of limits, of where one stood before even taking a single step forward on the path of cultivation.
Lu Mao watched quietly, his expression unchanged as he studied each candidate.
Some forced their Qi, pushing too hard in an attempt to impress, only to expose instability.
Others hesitated, their fear disrupting their flow before they even touched the crystal.
A few remained calm, their control evident even if their results were not exceptional.
It wasn't just power being tested.
It was foundation.
Control.
Nature.
So this is how they separate us, Lu Mao thought.
Not by what we can do.
But by what we are.
Time passed steadily, the rhythm of the test settling into a pattern.
Until it shifted.
Yan Mei stepped forward.
She didn't draw attention deliberately, yet the space around her seemed to sharpen as she moved. Her posture remained relaxed, her steps unhurried, but there was a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself.
Lu Mao's gaze followed her without conscious effort.
She reached the crystal and placed her hand upon it without hesitation. Her eyes closed briefly—not in uncertainty, but in focus.
Then her Qi moved.
It wasn't explosive. It didn't surge outward violently like some of the others.
It flowed.
Smooth.
Refined.
Like a river guided through a perfectly carved channel.
The crystal responded instantly.
Crimson light flared from its tip, bright and unwavering.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the arena, restrained but unmistakable.
"Qi level: high," Ji Han announced.
Yan Mei opened her eyes, a faint, satisfied smile touching her lips as a red badge formed before her. She took it with ease and stepped aside, her gaze briefly meeting Lu Mao's before she moved on.
He exhaled quietly.
That result had never been in doubt.
Then—
His turn came.
Lu Mao stepped forward, the noise of the arena fading into something distant and indistinct. The weight of countless eyes remained, but it no longer pressed against him in the same way.
His focus narrowed.
The crystal stood before him, unchanged, its surface smooth and unyielding.
For a brief moment, he simply looked at it.
And something shifted.
It wasn't the arena.
It wasn't the crowd.
It was him.
Darkness.
A vast, silent expanse.
And at its center—
A colossal golden vein.
It stretched endlessly, pulsing with ancient, radiant light. Energy flowed through it like liquid sunlight, each surge carrying a presence that felt both distant and intimately familiar.
Lu Mao stood before it, small in comparison, yet undeniably connected.
The vision lasted only a moment.
Two seconds.
Perhaps three.
Then it was gone.
The arena snapped back into place.
The crystal.
The sky.
The weight of observation.
Lu Mao's fingers tightened slightly.
It had happened again.
Just like before.
A brief glimpse into something he couldn't yet understand.
He exhaled, steadying himself.
Not now.
His hand moved forward, resting against the crystal.
Cool.
Unyielding.
He released his Qi.
Not forced.
Not restrained.
Simply… as it was.
The response came instantly.
Orange light.
Stable.
Unremarkable.
"Qi level: mediocre."
Ji Han's voice carried across the arena, unchanged.
Lu Mao allowed a faint smile to form.
As expected.
A badge materialized before him, glowing softly with an orange hue. He took it and secured it to his robes without hesitation, his movements calm and deliberate.
There was no disappointment.
No frustration.
Because this result meant exactly what he wanted it to mean.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
As he stepped away, a voice cut sharply through the air.
"What a loser."
Lu Mao didn't stop walking, but his attention shifted.
Zhang Wei.
The arrogance in his tone was unmistakable, carried easily across the space along with the laughter of those around him.
Yan Mei's expression hardened. "Shut up, Zhang Wei. Mind your own business."
Zhang Wei smirked, his gaze flicking between them. "Why would someone like you waste time with a low-level outsider like him?" he said mockingly. "Come with me instead. I could teach you far more than—"
The laughter that followed was louder, more deliberate.
Lu Mao stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
His expression remained calm, almost indifferent, but his eyes had changed.
They were steady.
Focused.
Watching.
"You call me an outsider," Lu Mao said, his voice low but clear.
The laughter faltered slightly.
"But your mistake," he continued, "is thinking I need to prove anything to you."
For a brief moment, the space between them stilled.
Zhang Wei's smirk wavered, something uncertain flickering in his expression before he quickly masked it.
"Watch your back," he muttered, stepping away.
The laughter returned, but it lacked the same edge.
Yan Mei glanced at Lu Mao, her gaze thoughtful. "What were you muttering just now?" she asked.
Lu Mao's faint smirk returned.
"Just putting on a performance," he replied lightly. "For certain people."
He glanced briefly in the direction Zhang Wei had gone.
"I hope he pays attention."
Yan Mei studied him for a moment, then shook her head with a small smile.
The two of them moved toward the gathering area, the trial continuing behind them as more candidates stepped forward, their fates decided in moments.
Lu Mao's hand brushed lightly against the badge at his chest.
Orange.
Mediocre.
Ordinary.
Exactly what it appeared to be.
His gaze lifted briefly toward the stage, toward the elders who watched without expression.
Then forward again.
Because the test had revealed nothing of what truly mattered.
Not the golden vein.
Not the brief, fleeting glimpses of something vast and ancient within him.
Not the path he was only beginning to understand.
He walked on, calm and unhurried, blending easily among the others.
Unnoticed.
Unremarkable.
And exactly where he intended to be.
Because beneath the surface, something far greater was stirring.
And when it finally rose—
No simple measure of Qi would be enough to define it.