Outer Disciples in gray Martial Arts Uniforms swiftly poured into the spacious hall before the courtyard, carrying a dark red grandmaster chair and a tea table to the center. Two charming young women, looking like handmaidens, walked out from an inner room and began to brew tea.
Then, flanked by three Inner Sect Disciples in black Martial Arts Uniforms and an unfamiliar senior disciple in a white Martial Arts Uniform, a burly middle-aged man slowly walked out of the inner room.
He wore a long, black robe threaded with gold, his face rugged and framed by a full beard and slightly curly hair. He walked with a powerful, commanding gait, his presence as immense as a fierce tiger incarnate.
This man was none other than Weng Xiaolin, the Hall Master of the Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall.
It was said that Hall Master Weng was already sixty-five, but he still looked to be in his prime. Rumor had it he had a voracious appetite and was as strong as an ox.
Weng Xiaolin walked to the grandmaster chair and sat down. He took a sip of the tea brewed by the handmaiden, glanced at the Named Disciples who were all standing ramrod straight with tense expressions, and gave a casual wave of his hand.
The unfamiliar man in the white Martial Arts Uniform slowly walked forward.
The man's build was almost unbelievably powerful. At over two meters tall, he was a giant in an era where the average height was about 1.7 meters. His loose, white Martial Arts Uniform was stretched taut over muscles like granite, and a hideous, cross-shaped scar that covered nearly his entire left cheek gave him an incredibly fierce demeanor.
Within the Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall, the color of a Martial Arts Uniform represented a disciple's status.
Tan was for Named Disciples.
Gray was for Outer Disciples.
Black was for Inner Sect Disciples.
And white was for the so-called closed-door disciples, the genuine True Inheritance, the kind qualified to inherit the legacy of the Martial Arts Hall.
The White-robed True Inheritance stood before the Named Disciples, his oppressive presence palpable, almost suffocating. He slowly opened his mouth, his voice booming like a great bell. "The Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall's promotion assessment for Named Disciples begins now! You will proceed in the order of your lines, from front to back, and demonstrate the Nine Tiger Forms! To pass, you must achieve Three Sounds!"
Having said his piece, the Martial Arts Hall's True Inheritance slowly turned and retreated to Weng Xiaolin's side.
The next moment, all the Named Disciples turned to look at the person at the front of the first line.
It was the extremely burly and sturdy Zhou Ze.
Under everyone's gaze, Zhou Ze took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He strode forward to the front of the platform, his expression solemn, his back ramrod straight. Cupping his fist toward the Hall Master's seat and bowing slightly, he declared loudly:
"Disciple Zhou Ze asks for the guidance of the Hall Master and esteemed senior brothers!!"
Zhou Ze's voice was powerful and resonant, reverberating through the courtyard.
"Not bad."
Sitting in the grandmaster chair, Weng Xiaolin's gaze swept over Zhou Ze. He nodded slightly and asked the White-robed True Inheritance beside him, "He's the best of this batch of Named Disciples, isn't he?"
"Yes, Master," the White-robed True Inheritance said to Weng Xiaolin. "His name is Zhou Ze. He comes from a poor family, but his innate talent and comprehension are both superior. The fact that he can surpass the other sons of wealthy families without any medicinal supplements is enough to prove his aptitude."
"Very good. Let's see how many Sounds he can produce today."
Weng Xiaolin nodded.
After bowing to Weng Xiaolin, Zhou Ze turned again, gave a cupped-fist salute to the numerous Named Disciples lined up in their queues, and assumed his opening stance.
He closed his eyes, centered his Qi in his dantian, and did his best to compose himself.
At this moment, a series of images flashed before his eyes.
He saw his former self, living in a dilapidated mud-brick house with parents who were both servants. The best meal of the year was scraps his older sister brought back from her dishwashing job at the Drunken Immortal Tower. His greatest envy was seeing other children wearing new clothes…
Then he saw himself now: an honored guest at the very same Drunken Immortal Tower. The wealthy heirs and high-society members who once scorned him now treated him as a brother. The rich young women who were once the stuff of dreams were now his intimate companions every day.
'I want to hold onto all of this forever.'
A potent mix of desire and longing surged through him like a powerful stimulant.
His eyes snapped open. Power surged through his body as he began the demonstration.
Fierce Tiger Inquiry!
Fierce Tiger Exits the Cave!
Furious Tiger Piercing the Forest!
Fierce Tiger Presents its Claws!
Evil Tiger Tail Cutting!
Fierce Tiger Takes its Prey!
Six techniques in a row, six consecutive Sounds!
Surprise flickered across everyone's faces. They knew Zhou Ze had been capable of achieving three consecutive Sounds three months ago, but with the Nine Tiger Forms, Force Release became increasingly difficult in the later techniques. Most had estimated he would achieve about five Sounds.
But unexpectedly, he had actually managed six Sounds.
However, this seemed to have reached the limit of his physical ability. His chest heaved as he began to pant heavily.
However, Zhou Ze didn't want to end it just like that.
'I have to do even better! That's the only way I'll gain the Hall Master's attention, get better resources, and achieve a higher status!!'
ROAR!!
He suddenly let out a great roar, forcing out the last of his strength.
The seventh technique! Black Tiger's Return!
Seven Sounds!
Even Weng Xiaolin's face showed a trace of surprise.
'To reach this level after only half a year of training is no small feat. The boy is indeed talented.'
After completing the Seven Sounds, Zhou Ze's face had turned pale. Covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his body felt drained of strength, and he had even strained some of his muscles.
Nevertheless, he pushed his body to complete the last two forms. Only after saluting toward the Hall Master did he turn and walk back to his position.
Along the way, the looks of awe and astonishment from the crowd, and especially the admiration and worship in his girlfriend Xia Qing's eyes, were like a soothing balm, causing even his exhaustion to fade slightly.
"Seven Sounds in half a year," Weng Xiaolin said to the White-robed True Inheritance beside him. "That's truly impressive aptitude. Run a thorough background check on him. If he's clean, let him enter the Inner Sect directly. We'll make him a priority for training and see how he develops."
"Master, could it be you're thinking…" the White-robed True Inheritance asked, surprised.
"We'll see. It takes more than this to become my True Inheritance," Weng Xiaolin said lightly. "The Three Halls Martial Competition isn't far off. If he can secure a good ranking, I'll consider it."
Next, the Martial Arts Hall's assessment continued, with the Named Disciples taking the stage one by one to demonstrate their skills.
The highest score was five Sounds, and even that fifth Sound was strained—so faint and intermittent that one could have easily called it Four Sounds.
Zhou Ze's girlfriend, Xia Qing, performed steadily, achieving Three Sounds and successfully passing.
In the end, after the top twenty ranked disciples had finished, only about twelve people had managed to produce Three Sounds.
Some, who clearly had the strength to achieve Three Sounds, buckled under the pressure. They performed poorly, managing only two Sounds, and now stood in place with devastated expressions, unable to hold back quiet sobs.
But no one paid them any mind, and the Martial Arts Hall would not give them a second chance.
Among the disciples ranked twentieth to fortieth, another qualifier emerged—a complete upset. This person had already given up hope on himself, but had unexpectedly performed far beyond his limits. He was ecstatic, and were it not for the solemnity of the occasion, he would have been dancing for joy.
As always in this world, where one person finds joy, another finds sorrow.
After the fortieth rank, there were no more Named Disciples who managed to pass the assessment.
Zhao Xuanqi was ranked fifty-third. As the female disciple ahead of him returned from her failed attempt, her face etched with bitterness, it was finally his turn to take the stage.