Gate of the Illusory Sword Sect
A group of youths between fifteen and sixteen years old gathered in a valley beneath a great mountain covered in dense vegetation. At the center stood a stone staircase, and some of them had already taken the lead, climbing upward.
Among them was a muscular young man with a large sword strapped to his back. He had an arrogant face and an upright posture, advancing step by step with confidence. On his left shoulder was a black mark shaped like a wind blade.
A mark that, mysteriously, no one noticed. Not even the young man himself appeared to care about it, as if he could not see it.
And he truly could not—but it was seen.
Below the staircase, hidden behind a tree, a frail-looking youth covered in bruises and wearing a dirty green robe kept his eyes closed, a satisfied smile on his face.
In his mind, he had a vivid vision, as if he were seeing through the eyes of the burly young man climbing step by step.
This was his ability.
Lu Han did not know why he was born with it, but for as long as he could remember, he had possessed the power to spy on others by placing a mark on their bodies—a mark that could neither be seen nor felt. It could only be used once per target.
If Lu Han were to place the mark on someone else at that moment, his vision of the burly young man would disappear.
For now, that was not something he wanted to do. To place the current mark, he had pretended to bump into the burly young man, Zhao Ming—the son of the lord of Black Star City—and had been beaten by his subordinates as a result. He had only survived because he was still within the city.
This outcome had been expected. Lu Han had acted deliberately after learning about the Illusory Sword Sect's entrance examination. As the son of an influential figure, Zhao Ming would certainly know the location of the tests.
With that in mind, Lu Han chose to take the risk.
A risk that paid off, as he managed to reach this place by secretly following Zhao Ming, being indirectly saved by him on several occasions. The path had been dangerous, filled with wild beasts and even bandits—challenges that would have killed him without mercy if he had been alone. But Zhao Ming, with the support of his guards, eliminated every obstacle.
"Climb, Zhao Ming! Keep going. Show me the first test."
Lu Han's smile widened as he watched the burly youth, who at that moment had already reached the top of the staircase.
At the end of the stairs was a flat area surrounded by a white wall, with a road leading to a large gate. To the east side, a middle-aged man sat with his chair leaning against the wall, in front of a wooden table. Resting upon it was a bronze mirror.
Upon seeing the man, Zhao Ming immediately dropped his arrogance and approached with a fawning expression.
"Zhao Ming, son of the lord of Black Star City, greets the immortal."
He cupped his hands respectfully. Then he reached to his waist and took out a ginseng root, which immediately released a tempting fragrance into the air.
"I hope the immortal will find this gift pleasing."
Zhao Ming placed the ginseng on the table, expecting special treatment. To his displeasure, the man merely picked up the root, brought it to his nose, and after sniffing it, made it vanish. Then he looked back at Zhao Ming without any expression.
"Thank you for the thousand-year ginseng. Now, place your hand on the mirror," the immortal said indifferently, treating Zhao Ming as just another applicant.
Veins bulged on Zhao Ming's face, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. He had never been treated like this in his life, especially after offering something so valuable. He wanted revenge, but held himself back—the other party was an immortal, someone who could erase him with a single breath.
Swallowing his anger, Zhao Ming placed his hands on the mirror. The moment he touched it, a faint three-colored light appeared on its surface: blue, brown, and green.
Seeing this, the immortal shook his head in disapproval. With a cold sigh, he pointed toward the entrance and said in the same icy tone:
"Water, earth, and wood roots, low grade. You may proceed to the next phase."
At this result, Zhao Ming's eyes widened. He knew a little about the world of immortal cultivation and understood that this talent was mediocre—only one level above ordinary mortals.
"Why?" he burst out angrily.
"Move along! Are you going to keep wasting my time?"
The man spoke sharply, forcing Zhao Ming to stop complaining and hurry toward the next test.
Lu Han, who had been observing everything, could not help but laugh inwardly.
"Hahaha! That guy was so arrogant, like an emperor scorning mortals while climbing… only to get slapped in the face."
After mocking him internally, Lu Han began to feel anxious.
If Zhao Ming, with all his background, had barely passed… what about him, who had nothing?
Lu Han's heart began to race, and his chest tightened.
If he failed, everything he had done so far would be in vain. And worse than that—how would he return? There would be no Zhao Ming to clear the path for him.
"Stop!"
Lu Han slapped his own cheeks.
"I haven't failed yet. I need to stop thinking negatively."
With renewed resolve, he stepped out from behind the tree and walked into the now nearly empty valley.
Only a few youths remained who had yet to climb. Ignoring them, Lu Han began ascending the steps, keeping one eye open and the other closed, focusing on seeing through Zhao Ming's perspective.
In this strange state, he saw Zhao Ming standing with an enraged expression before five stone monuments, each a different color: red, green, blue, brown, and gray, representing the five elements.
Around them were several people and another table, where a supervisor sat.
After asking a few questions, Zhao Ming learned that the goal of the second test was to memorize the technique inscribed on the five monuments according to one's spiritual roots, thereby assessing one's memory.
Understanding this, his arrogance returned. As a young master, he had complete confidence in himself. Since childhood, he had been taught by the best instructors—memorizing a technique was nothing to him.
Licking his lips, he approached the water monument and, after reading it only once, was certain he could recite everything. Then he did the same with the wood and earth monuments.
When he finished, he approached the supervisor, who was a beautiful woman.
"I'm done, immortal."
"Good. Proceed to the next test."
The immortal did not even look at Zhao Ming, treating him like a speck of dust.
"Damn it!"
Zhao Ming nearly exploded, restraining himself only because he knew he stood no chance against her. Furious, he moved on to the third test.
'Something isn't right. If it were just memorization, everyone would pass. And the immortal didn't even evaluate him.'
Lu Han, still on the staircase, felt that something was off. Things were not so simple. Based on what he had seen in the second test, the third test seemed to be the real trial.
"Zhao Ming is going to fail, with that kind of overconfidence."
That was Lu Han's intuition as he sat down on the steps, watching the third test unfold.