When the first snow began to fall at the foot of Gufeng Mountain, more than three months had passed since Zanxing entered the inner sect.

The waterfall at Chuhong Terrace was indeed, as the senior sisters had said, frozen into a silver mirror, like spring frozen in time, still maintaining the appearance of water droplets splashing everywhere. The distant Four Forests were covered with a layer of silvery-white snow. Goose-feather-like heavy snow fell in flurries. After one night, the open space outside the small wooden building quickly accumulated a layer of snow. When one stepped on it, the snow reached up to one’s knees, carrying a bit of cold air and making a “rustling” sound, as if stepping into a basin of salt grains.

The rooster had not yet crowed, winter days dawned late, and in the distant sky, the waning moon had not yet set, hanging among the treetops. Mimi lay on the small couch, lazily resting her head on the windowsill, half-squinting her eyes, letting snowflakes drift onto her nose tip and quickly melt.

Under the tree, wind lanterns illuminated a patch of snowy ground. Zanxing threw down the shovel, inserted the last carrot into the middle of the snowman’s face, and clapped the remaining snow off her hands.

Tian Fangfang came out of the house rubbing her hands, immediately delighted at the sight, laughing: “Oh my, getting up so early to build a snowman—aren’t you cold, Junior Sister?”

“Not cold.” Zanxing looked at the snowman: “It would be a pity not to build with this snow.” She was from the south and had never seen snow before transmigrating. When the first snow fell last night, she had excitedly rolled in the snow for half the night. Early this morning, Zanxing had built the snowman, feeling completely satisfied.

“True.” Tian Fangfang thought about it: “I heard you’re from Yue City. That place is in the south—you hardly see snow there all year round.”

Zanxing said, “Wait for me a moment. I’ll go back to the house to get something.”

A moment later, she came out of the small wooden building with a bundle and, together with Tian Fangfang, went to the main temple hall of the Taiyan Sect.

The main hall of the sect—aside from the first time when she passed the Lianshan Flower assessment and entered with the new disciples, Zanxing had never specifically come here. It was early morning now. Though some disciples rose early, they either went to Chuhong Terrace to cultivate or lingered around the dining hall; no one would specifically come to the main hall.

Zanxing stepped through the main gate and urged Tian Fangfang behind her: “Hurry up.”

The sky had not yet brightened. The hall was lit with hundreds of bright lamps, showing a deep warmth on this winter morning. The candlelight illuminated the cinnabar-colored hall particularly brightly, with human shadows falling on the walls like moving long paintings.

The golden statue of Yushan Shengren stood in the hall, extremely tall and large, with lifelike whiskers and hair, an immortal bearing, holding a long sword, silently looking down at them.

Though that gaze was very calm, Tian Fangfang inexplicably felt somewhat intimidated. She whispered, “Junior Sister, what exactly are we here to do?”

“Did you bring what I asked you to bring?” Zanxing asked.

“I brought it, I brought it.” Tian Fangfang pulled out a bundle from her bosom, unwrapped it, revealing some spiritual fruits and herbs scattered inside, along with half a steamed bun.

“Only these?” Zanxing frowned.

“Junior Sister,” Tian Fangfang said with a bitter face, “Spiritual herbs and fruits are precious. I’m still growing and have a big appetite. This half-steamed bun was something I barely managed to save from dinner.”

“Fine then.” Zanxing opened her bundle, which contained over ten pills neatly arranged. She took out two and handed them to Tian Fangfang: “These are for you.” She did well in pill-refining class and always brought back more pills than others. Having accumulated many that the cat couldn’t finish, she kept them in the small wooden building.

Tian Fangfang took them, looking puzzled: “…Thank you, Junior Sister, but what exactly are we going to do?”

Zanxing sighed and said, “Do you know that tomorrow is the inner sect assessment?”

“Of course I know,” Tian Fangfang nodded. “Haven’t we been cultivating diligently day and night these past few months just to make a stunning debut in the inner sect assessment and become Sixth Senior Uncle’s direct disciple?”

“Forget about making a stunning debut,” Zanxing said, “I heard that the inner sect assessment is completely different from previous assessments—extremely dangerous. Once disciples enter the assessment grounds, by the time the entire assessment ends, most will be seriously injured.”

“Are you worried about getting hurt?” Tian Fangfang was confused: “But what does that have to do with what we’re doing now?”

Zanxing gestured for her to look at the statue of Yushan Shengren before them: “Yushan Shengren was the first cultivator in the entire Duzhou cultivation world to successfully ascend. In this professional field, he’s number one, so praying to him is right.”

“Pray… pray for what?” Tian Fangfang was bewildered.

“Pray to the exam god.” Zanxing arranged the items from the bundle bit by bit at the feet of Yushan Shengren, pulling Tian Fangfang to kowtow together, saying: “In our local area, there’s a custom—before exams, pray to the big shot in that professional field, and you’ll have continuous good luck and pass every exam.”

“Really?” Tian Fangfang asked while kowtowing: “How come I’ve never heard of this custom?”

“That’s because you’re ignorant.” Zanxing said, “Sincerity brings results. Praying more always has benefits.”

…

The matter of Zanxing and her companion getting up early in the dark to offer food and kowtow before Yushan Shengren’s statue reached the ears of several senior uncles within half a moment.

Xuan Lingzi spoke in confusion: “Could it be that she holds admiration for the saint and specifically went to pay respects? But why place spiritual herbs, fruits, pills, and steamed buns? It’s not any festival, so it can’t be a memorial service, right?”

Gu Baiying, who had been sleeping in his hall, opened his closed eyes upon hearing this, sat up from the soft couch, and sneered: “What other reason could there be—tomorrow is the inner sect assessment.”

“So?”

“So she’s praying to gods and buddhas, hoping the saint who successfully ascended will share some luck with her, so she can safely pass tomorrow’s trial.” Gu Baiying explained impatiently, “Can’t you see this!”

Xuan Lingzi had a sudden realization: “I see!” He laughed: “This girl is quite naive. How could our Taiyan Sect’s inner sect assessment be passed by praying to gods and buddhas? It all depends on real ability. Moreover…”

Moreover, this year, to select a direct disciple for him, several senior uncles had specifically increased the difficulty. Disciples with assessment experience might be fine, but this batch of new disciples selected from various places in Duzhou would probably be skinned alive even if they didn’t die.

Speaking of it, this little girl looked frail and delicate—who knew how long she could persist in the assessment?

Xuan Lingzi said, “If the saint truly has divine powers, I hope he can bless this girl to pass smoothly.”

“Senior Brother, that’s not right to say,” the young man beside him heard this, glanced at him, seemingly disagreeing with his words, and spoke indifferently: “Our Taiyan Sect has always relied on strength. Just thinking about others’ protection is not the way of cultivation.”

He picked up a spiritual fruit from the fruit basket on the table, his finger brushing over the scars on its surface.

“If she can’t even endure this bit of hardship, she’s not qualified to cultivate at all. Better to pack up and leave early, get lost on Gufeng Mountain.”