Outside the secret realm, the mountain winds were crisp and clear. They swept through the forest, rustling the branches and leaves with a steady whisper.
Most of the cultivators stationed here had already found a clean boulder to sit upon, legs crossed, quietly meditating to restore their strength.
Only one woman stood tall, straight-backed in her plain white gown, a ribbon tying back her hair. Her phoenix eyes never stopped scanning the treeline, sharp and unwavering, unwilling to overlook even the slightest stir of wind or grass.
Just then, light footsteps came skipping from behind. A lively young girl hopped her way over and clung to the woman's arm.
"Senior Sister, why don't you take a rest too?" she said sweetly, half-pouting. "The news about this secret realm has been out for quite a while. That demonic cultivator came yesterday, and it's been a whole day since then. I'd bet no one else is coming."
But the woman called Senior Sister only shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the distant forest.
"No. What if someone only just heard the news, and rushes here from afar?"
Her tone grew firm.
"And the demonic sect is cunning. If they wait for us to relax and then strike by surprise, our losses would be heavy. I have to keep watch. Not a single person can be allowed to slip past."
Seeing this, the younger girl could only purse her lips in defeat. She shook her sister's arm again, then changed the subject with a mischievous grin.
"Senior Sister, what do you think? Do you think any Scholars will walk out of the secret realm today? And finally join our Lishi Pavilion?"
At that, a bitter smile touched the elder's lips. She shook her head, clearly without much hope.
"I'll be satisfied if even a handful of students come out alive. But a Scholar? That's far too difficult."
She sighed softly before continuing.
"To become a Scholar requires not only perfect affinity with the Dao of Yin Learning, but also quick wit and extraordinary talent.
Such a person—even in the Demonic Sect—would surely carve out a place for themselves. Why would they risk everything to defect here, placing their life in mortal peril?
And most of all—people like that would never accept having their memories wiped, becoming someone entirely new."
Her junior only chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"True, true. But I still think there are a few promising ones among those who went in this time. If—just if—one of them really does become a Scholar, what will you do, Senior Sister?"
The elder turned her head at once, arching a brow with a half-smile.
"Oh? You really believe in them that much? Don't think I don't know what you're scheming. You just want a Scholar to appear so you can send them in your place to the Six-Yao Mountain secret realm in two days, isn't that so?"
Her junior's cheeks flushed at being exposed, but she only clung tighter, her voice softening to a pleading whine.
"Aiya, Senior Sister, come on! If someone really does become a Scholar, let them go instead! Every secret realm is dangerous, and that one in particular… no one knows when disaster might strike.
You wouldn't want your most adorable little sister to die inside, would you?"
The elder's brow furrowed. Her tone carried the weight of reprimand.
"Yes, the secret realm is dangerous—but its rewards are just as great. If you keep clinging to fear and avoidance, how will you ever grow?"
"But—but I really am scared!" The younger girl almost draped herself fully onto her senior, refusing to let go. "Senior Sister, you're the best. Just agree, please! Besides, it's not like I'd be slacking off. Think about it: anyone who can become a Scholar in a single day is no ordinary person. Wouldn't it be far safer to let them explore that secret realm instead of me?"
Faced with her sister's stubborn pestering, the elder finally sighed, helpless, and nodded.
"Very well. If a Scholar truly emerges this time, we'll send them.
But if not, you'd best put aside your excuses. Two days from now, you'll go, and you'll go without complaint."
"Yay! Senior Sister, you're the best!" The little sister cheered, bouncing with glee. Then, glancing upward at the sky, her eyes widened.
"Oh no—the time!"
The cry stirred the other cultivators from their meditation. One by one, they turned to the horizon.
Indeed—the sun was sinking, half-swallowed by the mountains. A crimson disk on the verge of vanishing.
That meant the secret realm's trial was ending.
Now, all waited with bated breath.
How many students would emerge today?
Would there be—could there be—a Scholar?
All eyes locked onto the ancient stone gate. The air grew taut with silence.
At last, ripples stirred across the water-like barrier, and the first figure stepped out.
He looked exactly as he had going in—unchanged, unsuited in scholar's garb. Clearly, he had failed the Master's test. Disappointment still clung to his face as, in the next heartbeat, his body vanished into thin air.
Then a second person appeared—no different from the first. He too dissolved instantly, as though erased.
Again and again, the cycle repeated.
All who exited unchanged disappeared the moment they stepped out of the secret realm.
Meanwhile, the storage pouch at Senior Sister's waist grew heavier and heavier, though what it now contained, no one could tell.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, a man emerged—this one clad in plain blue scholar's robes.
He paused only briefly, then, upon seeing the circle of righteous cultivators, broke into a warm smile.
With not the slightest trace of distance or unfamiliarity, he cupped his fists and bowed deeply.
"Greetings, Senior Brothers and Sisters! I, Wen Bo, have finally passed the first trial of the secret realm, and will not fail the trust of our sect!"
A gray-haired cultivator threw his head back with a laugh.
"Welcome back, Junior Brother Wen Bo! When we return to the sect, we'll host a proper banquet to honor you!"
They all knew, of course, that these people were only just now becoming their "fellow disciples."
But their expressions did not waver. In their eyes, whatever lives these people had lived before no longer mattered. From this moment on, they were brothers and sisters of the same path.
Soon, more figures stepped out—more than a dozen in total—all clad in scholar's robes. Each one had passed the first trial and earned the title of "student."
Yet still, no true Scholar appeared.
The little sister's eyes dimmed with disappointment.
But the very next moment, she froze, her gaze snapping wide in disbelief.
She jabbed her finger at the stone gate, her voice breaking with excitement.
"Senior Sister—look! That person—his robes… aren't those the Scholar's robes?!"