It was getting dark; noon had passed, and the winds blowing from the Nan River were gradually growing colder. Part of the coastline had been dug up, leaving holes and mounds of earth. The participants were tired: some sat on the ground, wiping sweat from their brows; others stood leaning on shovels stuck into the dirt, breathing heavily, their chests rising and falling. Everyone was exhausted.But the work was done: the excavated iron rods lay on the untouched ground in a neat pile.
Clap, clap.
"Congratulations, you did a great job and showed your quick wits. Because of that, you all move on to the second stage," said Ma Jian, standing on relatively untouched earth.
"And it starts right now."
He simply raised his hand, shook it, and the sleeve of his robe rippled.
Boom.
A dusty cloud rose into the air, obscuring Ma Jian. Despite their fatigue, the participants gasped and quickly gathered together, including Tu Heng, who was dragged there by a young man with still well-groomed hair.
The dust cleared. Ma Jian stood untouched, as if not a single grain of sand had landed on him. A circle had appeared around him — smooth, as though crafted by a true master.
"The conditions are simple," he began. "Your goal is to get me out of the circle. It doesn't matter how — work as a team or individually. The main thing is to demonstrate your special qualities. Impress me." He raised his hand and gestured defiantly.
The participants listened carefully, but no one rushed to begin. Taking the lead, the well-groomed young man motioned everyone closer. He crouched and drew a circle and several lines in the dirt.
"Listen, we're not animals to charge at a known strong opponent. Our advantage is numbers. Let's divide tasks and plan the attack. The goal is to force Mr. Ma out of the circle. It doesn't have to be physical; Tu Heng proved there are different ways to approach it. And we won't exclude him. So first we—"
He broke off as a mud-stained figure darted past.
While everyone was distracted, Tu Heng leaped to his feet and charged toward Ma Jian. He clutched a shovel, his eyes shining, his thoughts racing. He acted like the heroes in the stories he had read — never give up, always push forward.
I'm the main character, I'm the main character!
With his goal in sight, his rough hands tightened on the shovel and refused to let go. He raised it above his head, jumped, and—
"Gkah!?"
The world spun; earth and sky swapped places — faster, faster — and then—
He crashed down, sprawled on the ground. His arms and legs trembled as if concussed.
His mind went blank, his gaze fixed on the sky. Breathe… breathe… He tried to inhale but couldn't exhale — as if frozen.
Ma Jian hadn't even touched him. He had merely extended his palm toward the shovel, and the air had twisted in a spiral. Then… Tu Heng was already lying here.
"Help him!" the well-groomed young man shouted.
Two large men obeyed immediately: they ran up, grabbed Tu Heng by his arms and legs, and carried him back as if he were livestock.
"I asked you not to hurt them," Sung muttered, rubbing his head, though he didn't intervene.
Tu Heng continued to stare at the sky — vast, distant. Against it, he felt like a grain of sand. I… I… He didn't know what to think. Moments ago he had been an ordinary person, and now he was in another world. Alone, so tiny. His eyes reddened. If he could, he would have ordered his body to hold on, but it wouldn't listen.
Tears slid down his cheeks in a thin stream. He curled his shoulders, drew his legs in, trying to make himself smaller — as if that would let him escape everything.
"Huh?"
Thin hands lifted his head, placed a cloth beneath it, then lowered him gently.
How long have I been lying here?
"Shoot!"
Tu Heng jerked upright, seizing the moment. One of the large men who had carried him earlier pulled back a tight bowstring, aiming a stone-tipped arrow at Ma Jian.
"Shoot!" Tu Heng yelled again.
Whistle.
The arrow reached its target almost instantly — visually about to pierce him — but at the last moment the air in front of Ma Jian distorted. Puff! The arrow struck the ground. Another display of extraordinary strength.
"Not bad, but you can do better," Ma Jian said, shaking his head.
The participants perked up. Each felt slightly helpless. This was new to them.
"Enough. That was just a test. We haven't shown everything yet," the tousle-haired young man encouraged. "Zhuge, take the second bow — shoot with your brother. The rest, take darts. We'll attack from all sides." He handed out wooden spears with sharpened tips. "And the women, grab mud — aim for the eyes. Just don't rush recklessly. Safety above all. Don't act like Tu Heng."
"Ahem, ahem… I can hear you," Tu Heng complained, struggling to stand.
"Tu Heng, are you sure you're okay? Being hit by a cultivator is no joke. If you're not well, rest."
"I'm fine… I'm fine," he insisted, brushing dirt off and rubbing his back. "I have an idea. For now, go ahead without me — I'll be back soon."
This time he didn't run. He walked quickly toward the village, shovel in hand.
He'll pay for this, I swear! Even if I have to do something disgusting.
His throat tightened in revulsion, but he didn't turn back — he was used to dirty work.
"All right, let's begin!"
Everyone followed the instructions. The girls spread out, collecting clumps of dirt. The boys approached the circle cautiously, keeping just out of Ma Jian's reach.
"Go!" the tousle-haired young man shouted, throwing the first dart.
The others followed, launching darts from different angles. The Zhuge brothers shot arrows from farther out, switching positions, looking for openings.
"Ho-ho, not bad," Ma Jian said, raising an eyebrow.
He stepped forward — most projectiles missed.
He stepped left — Zhuge's arrow passed by.
He stepped back — several darts and another arrow struck the ground.
The leader, the quick-witted one, the two strong brothers, and…
He glanced around inside the circle — darts and arrows stuck everywhere. No room to step. He looked at the participants again. The boys had moved aside, giving way to the girls with clumps of dirt. One girl stood out, aiming with a homemade slingshot.
This girl…
"Let's go!"
Clumps of dirt, darts, arrows — everything flew at once. There was no way to dodge.
But he didn't try. He raised his palm, the air distorted, and—
"Aaaah!" screamed the tousle-haired young man as dirt smacked him on the head.
He turned ghost-pale.
"Oh no…" he sobbed, clutching his head as mud dripped from it.
"Zhe Ming, here." The slingshot girl tossed him a handkerchief.
He caught it mid-air and wiped furiously, especially his hair. Only once clean did he exhale and stand straight again.
"Thank you, Ting Ze."
She nodded and went to help others. Almost everyone was covered in dirt. Thankfully no one was injured, though they all looked miserable.
Did our combined effort amount to nothing? Or…
Jie Ming narrowed his eyes at Ma Jian.
Ma Jian smiled calmly, hands behind his back. Yet his sleeve held a dirty smear.
"The sleeve! That means we hit him! There's still hope!"
Jie Ming clenched his fist. The heavy tension around him dissolved.
"Everyone, gather! Let's try one more—kha-kha—" He coughed suddenly, pinching his nose.
The buzz of tiny wings filled his ears — unmistakable.
Paling, he turned toward the source.
Tap, tap.
This time Tu Heng didn't run — he walked, slow and steady. Flies trailed around him, landing on his head and face. He didn't flinch — as if accustomed to them. In his right hand: the same shovel. In his left: a small bent, rusty bucket filled with a thick black-brown mass — the flies' source of fascination.
"The village pit!"
Jie Ming almost crawled backward. He considered the villagers' waste pit a forbidden zone. And Tu Heng hadn't just approached it — he had…
Jie Ming instantly understood what would happen. He jumped up and fled, signaling the others. The two brothers reacted immediately: grabbing their bows, they dashed toward the terrified villagers and blended among them. The rest scattered in panic, dropping everything.
The smile vanished from Ma Jian's face. His eyes scanned the tiny circle — three meters in diameter — offering no escape. Desperately, he glanced at Sung, communicating silently.
What do we do?
"Don't you dare retreat! I don't care how — endure until the end! Don't disgrace us, Ma Jian!" Sung barked.
Ma Jian bit his lip.
Tu Heng stopped beside him. His expression radiated deep disgust — not toward Ma Jian, but toward himself. It was painful to witness.
"Splash."
The shovel's tip plunged into the foul mass. He was loading his "projectile." Ma Jian lowered his head, hiding his eyes.
"Please… don't…" he whispered.
Tu Heng didn't answer. The muscles in his arm bulged. A sickening wet sound — the shovel flew upward and—
He threw.
The projectile soared.
Ma Jian reacted before thinking: one step — out of the circle. Another — two meters away. Then again, and again…
He didn't stop running until he disappeared from view.
"Stop!" Sung shouted helplessly, almost chasing after him, but halted at the last second.
"Then, Su, could you—" He fell silent as a cold blade touched his throat.
Su's face was expressionless. In her right hand — a hidden dagger. Her left hovered over her pouches.
Sung sighed.
My first selection mission, and it ends so absurdly… It started so well…
He pushed the dagger aside with a finger and walked toward the villagers and participants.
"Since the person responsible for your test has temporarily… left us, you all pass to the third stage. Congratulations!" He smiled, patting shoulders.
"But since you're tired and we need time to prepare, the final test will be held tomorrow at ten in the morning. Return home and rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
Jie Ming and the others stepped forward and bowed slightly, fists to palms.
"Thank you, Mr. Sung."
Some went to help villagers prepare, while others, led by Jie Ming, approached Tu Heng, who stood dazed, staring stoically at the shovel.
Before he could react, they grabbed him by the arms, took the bucket and shovel away, and tossed them far. Then they carried him toward the village, while he blinked in confusion.
"Shame," Sung concluded, raising his hands and clenching them.
Whistle.
The wind rose again, lifted the rods, and sent them back to the ship.
"Su," he said. "You'll organize the third test. You may use those on the ship."
"In that case, I won't be polite," she smiled. "Hey, you! Come down!"
The crew bustled, lowered the plank, and sixteen people disembarked and lined up before her.
"Here," she handed each a small bag. "Put a little on yourselves, then go east along the path. There's a small forest. Spread the contents and cover the whole area. Then return. It will scare away wild animals."
They nodded and left. Soon only Su and Sung remained.
"What about Ma Jian?" she asked. "Should I go after him?"
"Forget it. He'll return on his own." Sung spat and sighed. "Let's just make dinner and hope tomorrow there won't be any loopholes they can exploit."
"Don't worry. With me…" She patted her chest. "They won't cheat."
"I hope so. Prepare thoroughly. This is the last village. After this, we finally return to the sect."