Chapter 101: Entering the Azure Pool Sword Sect (2)

Che Wuyou had been at the Qingchi Sword Sect for over two months. In that time, the sect’s elders seemed to have vanished. Aside from the day he first arrived, when he was introduced to many of the sect's high-ranking figures, he had not caught a glimpse of a single one since. He had not even managed to see a common elder or deacon, let alone top-tier figures like the Sect Master, Li Muqiu.

He remained uncertain of the sect’s true intentions toward him. While his daily provisions were never lacking, he was granted no freedom; guards were always stationed nearby to monitor his movements, and there was no mention of him officially joining the sect. Fortunately, over a month ago, Li Muqiu had sent over a hand-copied manual of the "Gold-Pointing Hand." In his spare time, Che Wuyou practiced the "Hundred Herbs Formula" and the "Gold-Pointing Hand," which brought him some peace of mind.

On this day, Che Wuyou was reviewing the "Qihuang Scripture." Since Li Muqiu had confiscated the original, he could no longer study the subsequent sections. Bored, he spent his time revisiting the first two levels he had already mastered. While he gained minor insights, progress was extremely limited. At times, while reviewing the Flesh-and-Blood and Meridian stages, he found his understanding vague and uncertain. Although he remembered the general cultivation routes and methods clearly, the finer details and obscure passages felt increasingly elusive.

He sighed inwardly, acknowledging that the "Qihuang Scripture" was truly a treasure the Miao family had guarded with such care. When he had the book, he could study even the parts he didn't fully understand without hindering his overall progress. Now, without it, advancing was incredibly difficult. It was a marvelous text, indeed; without the original to contemplate, one could hardly make significant progress. Even using rubbings or hand-copied versions yielded far inferior results. As for memorizing the entire technique, it was a pipe dream for anyone who hadn't reached at least the minor, if not major, level of mastery.

Realizing his understanding of the "Qihuang Scripture" remained at a superficial level, he felt a sense of resignation. His comprehension was simply too low. It seemed his progress would remain stagnant unless Li Muqiu returned the work—a harsh reality he had no choice but to accept.

His cultivation had reached the peak of the Meridian stage. Even if he had the book, breaking through to the next level—the Bone Marrow stage, equivalent to the Guiyuan stage of immortality—would be exceptionally difficult given his aptitude. Furthermore, he could still utilize the skills he had already mastered. With this thought, he felt a measure of comfort. Just as he was lost in these reflections, the doorway to his small room darkened, and a figure barged in.

The intruder was a handsome young man with an arrogant expression. He didn't even glance at Che Wuyou, who sat cross-legged on a cushion, but scanned the room before sneering, "Which one of you is Che Wuyou?"

After weeks of isolation, the arrival of a visitor who treated him with such disregard left Che Wuyou feeling both annoyed and amused. He might have been polite to elders or high-ranking members—after all, one must bow when under another's roof—but he felt no such obligation toward this haughty youth. He ignored the man, keeping his eyes closed in meditation.

"I asked, which one is Che Wuyou?" the youth repeated, raising his voice.

Che Wuyou remained silent.

"You scoundrel, I'm talking to you! Who is Che Wuyou?" Provoked by the silence, the youth slammed his hand against a nearby table and barked.

Che Wuyou opened his eyes, looking at the youth with feigned confusion. He mimicked the youth’s earlier actions, scanning the room before pointing to himself and asking, "Are you asking me?"

The youth looked at Che Wuyou, then at the guards by the door. Unsure if the boy was genuinely oblivious or just playing dumb, he softened his tone slightly. "Who else would I be asking?"

"Oh, I see. My apologies, I was lost in thought and didn't hear you. May I ask who you are, and what business you have with me?" Che Wuyou stood up, bowed slightly, and spoke with exaggerated sincerity.

"..." The youth grew impatient. He had asked multiple times, yet the boy seemed genuinely clueless. Unable to tell if Che Wuyou was acting, he snapped, "Your name is Che Wuyou, right? My master has ordered that tomorrow morning, at the Chen hour, you are to participate in the final assessment for the new disciples of the Qingchi Sword Sect at the Heaven-Reaching Tower. See that you are on time. Understand?"

"What? The Heaven-Reaching Tower? A final assessment for new disciples?" Che Wuyou looked bewildered. "Brother, are you mistaken? I am not a disciple of the Qingchi Sword Sect. Why would I participate in such an assessment?"

"You aren't a new disciple?" The youth’s arrogant face twisted in disbelief. "Have you not taken the ten-stage entrance test?"

"I have never taken any such test," Che Wuyou replied firmly, though his heart raced with the thought: Had he been specially selected? Had his plan actually succeeded?

"What? How is that possible? If you haven't taken the entrance test, why would you be summoned for the final assessment at the Heaven-Reaching Tower?" The youth was as confused as anyone, knowing how strict the sect’s standards were. "Regardless, my master has ordered it, and there must be a reason. Be there on time tomorrow morning. Don't be late. Do you understand?"