“Three thousand steps?!” Complaints erupted from the crowd. Most of the chosen children were pampered and, even if they weren’t afraid of the three thousand steps, climbing them would be exhausting.
“I caught a cold at the inn yesterday because the quilt was too thin. How can I climb now?” a pretty 11 or 12-year-old girl whispered in the crowd. Her complaint prompted several older boys to step forward eagerly.
“Sister Meng Ying, I’ve practiced martial arts since childhood. May I carry you up 800 steps?” one offered.
Meng Ying fidgeted with her fingers, replying, “That’s too embarrassing. Everyone else is walking on their own. Wouldn’t it look shameful?”
“With three thousand stone steps, even those of us who’ve trained would be half-dead by the end. Compared to falling halfway up, this is nothing to be ashamed of,” another boy reassured her.
The crowd glanced at a chubby girl who had already bounded up twenty steps.
“She’s rushing now, but she’ll be exhausted after a hundred steps,” someone remarked.
“Looking at her few steps, she seems quite agile for a fat girl…” another observed.
Nan Yan, having eaten well before arriving and snagged some of Mu Zhanting’s rations, was full of energy. She waved to Ji Yang, “Shouldn’t we hurry? The sun’s already heading west.”
Ji Yang watched her curiously. As the daughter of a high-level cultivator, her aptitude should far surpass ordinary people. Yet earlier, the spirit-testing jade had shattered unexpectedly. He wondered what kind of spirit root this little girl possessed.
“You go first,” he told her. “Climb as high as you can. I’ll follow.”
“Alright!” Nan Yan agreed cheerfully. With childlike enthusiasm, she began bounding up the steps. Most people below, seeing the daunting length of the staircase, were conserving energy by resting every fifty steps. They watched Nan Yan charge upwards with amused smiles, expecting a good laugh.
“Do you think she’ll roll back down and die when the steps get steeper?” someone joked.
“No, no. She’s got too much padding. She’d probably bounce,” another quipped.
Laughter rippled through the crowd. “Let’s make a bet. I wager one spirit stone she won’t make it past 800 steps before rolling down.”
The monotony of climbing quickly led to more bets.
“You’re too harsh on the girl. I’ll bet two spirit stones she makes it to 1000 steps before giving up,” one said.
“Count me in. I’m betting on 800 steps too,” another chimed in.
Meng Ying, being carried by a tall, swarthy boy, frowned. “Don’t joke about this. Even though we’re all outer disciples, the sect always has rewards and punishments. The first one to reach the top might get to choose their dormitory first.”
Like other sects, the Yang Yue Sect was situated on a mountain with three distinct levels of spiritual energy. The purest and densest qi at the peak was reserved for the sect leader and elders. The middle level was for inner disciples and sect officials. The lowest level, though less abundant in spiritual energy, housed spiritual fields, pools, and beast gardens for outer disciples. Even at the bottom, the qi grew richer closer to the peak, benefiting cultivation.
Everyone paused, looking up. Nan Yan had disappeared into the misty clouds above, but the image of her bear-like figure made them chuckle again.
“It’s impossible. She’s too fat. We should move to the side in case she rolls down and crushes us,” someone warned jokingly.
Meng Ying didn’t join in the mockery. She glanced at Ji Yang, who was slowly walking nearby, and asked curiously, “Hey, senior brother, don’t you want to place a bet?”
Ji Yang had been climbing steadily, albeit slowly, without stopping. He had already ascended over 200 steps without showing any signs of fatigue.
After a moment’s thought, he replied, “I bet she’ll be the first to reach the top. If I win, each of you owes me three spirit stones. If I lose, I’ll give each of you three spirit stones.”
The crowd was stunned. “Outer disciples only earn three spirit stones a month for their labor. Where would you get sixty spirit stones for all of us?”
Meng Ying interjected, “Don’t say that. This senior brother was talking about overseas immortal islands we’ve never heard of. He must be well-traveled and probably has deep pockets.”
“Sister Meng is right. Three spirit stones are free for the taking. Let’s bet with him. Will you join, Sister Meng?”
Meng Ying shook her head shyly. “I don’t dare. I need to save my spirit stones to buy health-enhancing pills for my family.”
The boy carrying her offered, “Since there’s a fool willing to bet, we shouldn’t miss out. Sister Meng is so filial. I’ll cover your bet. If we lose, it’s on me. If we win, the profit is yours.”
Spirit stones were essential for cultivation, useful for absorbing qi, and trading for pills and magical tools. No one ever had enough.
Viewing the three spirit stones as already won, the crowd began discussing what spiritual medicines they could buy with them in the Yang Yue Sect.
Ji Yang remained silent, gazing at the thin clouds swirling above, lost in thought.
As they climbed higher, fatigue set in. Conversation dwindled, replaced by the sound of labored breathing as everyone focused on the seemingly endless steps before them.
The sun shifted from its zenith towards the west. Only the new disciples’ heavy panting could be heard.
“We must have climbed 800 steps by now, right?” someone gasped.
“I lost count. Can anyone… look back?”
“I’m too dizzy. I might fall if I turn around.”
Ji Yang’s face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he appeared less haggard than the others. His breathing had only quickened slightly, and his pace remained steady. He had pulled ahead by over fifty steps.
Seven hundred and twenty-four steps, Ji Yang counted silently.
Suddenly, a soft cry came from behind as someone lost their footing and began tumbling down the stairs.
“Poor soul. They might roll to the bottom,” someone commented.
“Wait, where’s that fat girl? We’re past 700 steps now. How come we haven’t seen her?”
The resting crowd looked up, trying to spot a figure in the swirling mist above.
They had expected Nan Yan to give up after 300 or 400 steps, but now they were nearly a third of the way up without any sign of her.
Could she have climbed halfway already?
“Maybe she fainted up there and was taken away by Yang Yue Sect cultivators?” someone suggested.
Everyone nodded at this theory.
Ji Yang remained noncommittal, his eyes deepening with contemplation.
At that moment, the swarthy boy carrying Meng Ying stumbled, leaning against the stone steps as sweat poured down his face.
“Sister… I can’t carry you any further,” he panted.
No one had the energy to mock him. Carrying a person up 800 steps was truly challenging.
“Thank you for your effort, senior brother,” Meng Ying smiled, lifting her skirt as she stood. “I’ll go up and see how far that chubby girl has gotten. Excuse me.”
“Huh?” The swarthy boy stared blankly. “Sister, aren’t you staying with us?”
“I’ll remember your kindness, senior brother,” Meng Ying smiled coyly, turning to climb the steps with unexpected agility, contrary to her earlier frail appearance.
‘Burning bridges and abandoning allies… With her cunning, she’ll do well in the cultivation world,’ Ji Yang thought as he continued climbing.
By the two-thousandth step, Ji Yang was alone. Far behind, he could still see Meng Ying’s figure, with no one else in sight. Ordinary people were indeed ordinary; the path of immortality was far more challenging than these three thousand steps.
With three hundred steps remaining, Ji Yang paused. Squinting, he saw a round figure sitting at the misty threshold of the sect, waving at him.
Nan Yan had already arrived.
‘This child’s stamina… she might also thrive in the cultivation world,’ Ji Yang mused.
Approaching slowly, he examined Nan Yan closely. She looked well, breathing steadily, with only a slight, healthy flush on her face. She didn’t seem to have exerted much energy.
“Aren’t you tired?” he asked.
Nan Yan scratched her head. “No, I’m not. I was waiting for you.”
“Why wait for me?”
“The people up there said I’d reached the end and couldn’t go back. I was worried you hadn’t caught up, so I waited here.”
Ji Yang crouched down. “What if I hadn’t come?”
Nan Yan replied, “Then I’d have hanged myself. My mother says that’s what men fall for.”
Ji Yang was speechless. Yes, he did fall for that.
…
The sun now rested on the western mountain peak. Meng Ying glanced back at the scattered crowd in the distance, feeling lucky. Without tricking someone into carrying her part of the way, she wouldn’t have reached the sect’s entrance.
She pinched her nearly numb calves, then crawled over the threshold on all fours.
“Not bad, you made it before sunset,” remarked a middle-aged cultivator who seemed to have been meditating nearby for a while. He casually picked up a jade tablet from a pile beside him and asked, “What’s your name?”
Catching her breath, Meng Ying answered, “Meng Ying. Meng as in Mencius, Ying as in ‘reflection in still water.'”
“This is your entrance token. Take the side door on the right to find your quarters.”
Meng Ying accepted it carefully, her heart leaping with excitement.
Cultivators valued privacy; even in smaller sects, disciples often had individual quarters. While the Yang Yue Sect wasn’t large, it was considered a second-tier sect in the central domain, ensuring comfortable accommodations.
“Senior, as I’m new here, may I ask which floor I’ll be staying on?” she inquired.
“Third floor. Two others arrived before you and have already gone in.”
“Third floor?” Meng Ying’s tired mind slowly processed this. “Senior, who was first?”
“A chubby girl named Nan. She arrived two hours ago but waited at the entrance for her brother. She sat there for quite a while.”
“Uh… Isn’t she just an ordinary person? How did she climb up here?”
The middle-aged cultivator glanced at her. “Not everyone had someone carry them up like you did.”
Meng Ying flinched, her face flushing. “Forgive me, senior. I won’t dare to be so cunning in the future.”
“Being clever isn’t necessarily bad,” the cultivator said. “But the great Dao is impartial. Though you’ve taken a shortcut now, you’ll have to make up for it elsewhere later. Remember that.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Meng Ying nervously took her jade tablet and found her quarters. The lodging was modest – two stone rooms with a small courtyard. Upon entering, she felt a sudden quietness and breathed in a fresh, fragrant air reminiscent of morning dew, freshly harvested rice, or a tranquil mountain spring.
This was spiritual energy.
Without a word, Meng Ying hastily made her bed and collapsed into sleep.
The entrance trial had been exhausting. She slept until the next day, only to be awakened by a knock at her door.
Rubbing her sore arms and adjusting her hair, Meng Ying opened the door to find Ji Yang standing there with the chubby girl.
“Senior brother, is something the matter?”
“I have a proposition for you,” Ji Yang said, glancing down at Nan Yan. “Could you switch quarters with this girl? She’s on the top floor, too far from me. I’m concerned.”
The top floor had the purest spiritual energy, and Meng Ying was eager to move up. However, suspecting a trick, she cautiously asked, “Senior brother, what’s your relationship with this… junior sister?”
“We’re sworn siblings,” Ji Yang replied.
Nan Yan added, “We just met yesterday. He says I need to see him daily for lessons and thinks it’s inconvenient to climb up and down. He insists I move down here.”
Ji Yang glanced at Nan Yan. “Didn’t you just say you’d hang yourself if you didn’t see me for a day?”
Nan Yan protested indignantly, “That was before you forced me to write 500 characters a day! My mother never said you’d manage my education! Do you need to keep me under such close watch?”
Ji Yang responded, “Studying diligently is more meaningful than hanging yourself.”
Nan Yan pleaded, “I’m sorry, I’ll never joke about hanging myself again. Please, can’t I write less?”
Meng Ying hesitated, forcing a smile. “I see, such close siblings.”
…Yes, devoted to life and death, indeed.