In the courtyard of the Martial Arts Stele, the Jade Stele flowed with a lustrous light.
Fang Han's arrival was like a stone tossed into a calm lake, instantly drawing the attention of all the Inner Hall Descendants who were either cultivating or passing by.
Gaze after gaze focused on him, filled with a mix of complex emotions—curiosity, awe, and even a hint of numb premonition.
"Fang Han is here again..."
"This time... I wonder what rank he'll reach?"
Low murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on the steady figure walking toward the Jade Stele.
Fang Han seemed oblivious to the stares, his mind serene.
He reached out, his fingertip touching the cold, smooth surface of the stele. With a steady hand, he wrote the two words, "Fang Han".
