A month later.

Thousands of miles from Qingfeng City, located in a small city at the westernmost edge of Jiangzhou.

"Brother Fang, have you heard? A storyteller from a foreign land came to the teahouse, saying that in a month’s time, two Third Grade masters will host a disciple recruitment event in Qingfeng City, regardless of background, only considering talent and comprehension..."

A young man excitedly rushed into a tavern to share this good news with everyone.

Inside the tavern, a group of young people were drinking and joking around. When they saw someone rushing in, they quieted down for a moment, and when he was halfway through speaking, they suddenly burst into laughter.

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

"Dreaming in broad daylight before even starting to drink?"

"Two Third Grade masters? Publicly recruiting disciples..."

"Go on, keep making it up..."

Naturally, no one believed such words.

The young man named Xiaoliu blushed intensely, and he said excitedly, "It’s true, Brother Fang, I really didn’t lie to you..."

"Enough!"

At this point, the young man who seemed to be leading tried to smooth things over, "We’re all brothers here, don’t go too far. Xiaoliu, I know you’re upset about not finding a master, sit down and have a drink..."

Duan Xiaoliu, seeing that none of them believed him, turned and ran out in anger. He was determined to prove to them that it was true.

Inside the tavern, the group of semi-drunk young men continued to mock Xiaoliu’s fanciful dreams.

Two days later, the young man with the surname Fang suddenly asked, "Where’s Xiaoliu? Why haven’t we seen him in two days?"

"Could he really have gone to Qingfeng City to seek a master?"

The group initially paused, then erupted into a roaring laughter.

"He couldn’t be that foolish, could he?"

"It’s exactly the kind of thing that idiot would do..."

"..."

In the midst of the laughter, someone from the corner softly remarked, "What if it’s true?"

The crowd fell silent for a moment, then almost everyone simultaneously denied it, "How could it be possible?"

"If you think it’s true, you could go too, and still make it in time."

The person speaking smiled sheepishly and said, "I was just saying it casually."

...

Duan Xiaoliu strapped on his backpack, hung the saber left by his father at his side, filled with the silver from selling their house, and embarked on his path to chasing dreams.

On the way, he ate dried rations when hungry, drank stream water when thirsty, and slept in other people’s woodsheds at night, braving the cold and snow, hurrying day and night.

Along the way, he heard many people discussing the Third Grade masters hosting the disciple recruitment event in Qingfeng City, and even learned about these two masters’ aliases and backgrounds.

Golden Saber Li Donglin, originally a horse bandit, later reformed and became a guard for caravans. He met a noble person and learned superior saber techniques. Later, he sailed overseas and, with a single golden saber, slew countless foreign masters. As he grew older, he washed his hands of the affairs of the martial world.

However, none of his descendants were capable of inheriting his mantle, and as he neared ninety, to prevent his skills from disappearing, he decided to hold a disciple recruitment event to accept several disciples.

The other master, Canglang Sword Han Dengxing, was originally a beggar who nearly starved to death. Fortunately, a kind-hearted person took him in, and he started as a servant and encountered a good teacher, gaining exceptional martial arts skills. He later sailed overseas as well and grasped the Canglang Swordsmanship at sea. He once fought Dragon King Zheng to a draw.

He originally had three disciples, but misfortune struck, and all three disciples met with accidents. As he saw his skills about to be lost, he heard his friend Li Donglin planned to publicly recruit disciples and agreed wholeheartedly.

Duan Xiaoliu committed this information to memory, becoming even more convinced.

As Qingfeng City drew nearer, he encountered more and more fellow travelers, some in groups of three to five, some in pairs, and some traveling alone like him.

He had a hunch that these people were likely planning to seek discipleship like him because they were all very vigilant, like him.

In their hearts, they regarded each other as potential competitors.

Of course, not everyone was like him. Some approached him proactively, "Little brother, are you also heading to Qingfeng City? If we’re going the same way, let’s travel together so we have company."

Duan Xiaoliu naturally refused.

...

Thus, after twenty-five days, Duan Xiaoliu finally arrived at the legendary Qingfeng City. This supposedly bustling city was indeed bustling, far surpassing the small city of his hometown in countless ways.

When he entered the city, he didn’t need to inquire deliberately, as discussions about the two Third Grade masters recruiting disciples could be heard everywhere from the streets to the alleyways, even among the beggars.

After gathering sufficient information, Duan Xiaoliu’s first task was to find an inn to stay at.

The room rates were frighteningly expensive, six silver coins per day for just a standard room, with superior rooms costing even more. At this price, there was also only one room left.

At this point, no matter how expensive, he had no choice but to stay.

Next, he took a bath and changed into new clothes before going downstairs.

The inn was almost entirely filled with people like him, young folks from abroad who came to participate in the disciple recruitment event. Everyone was discussing the event.

On his first day in Qingfeng City, Duan Xiaoliu fell asleep amidst excitement, nervousness, and unease.

...

Early the next morning, Duan Xiaoliu woke up, ate breakfast, and headed straight for the east gate.

He had already heard clearly that the empty space outside Ten Mile Pavilion by the riverbank was where the disciple recruitment event would be held.

To participate in the recruitment event, one must first register. There were still four days left until the registration deadline.

After four days, the disciple recruitment event would officially begin.

Duan Xiaoliu arrived by Ten Mile Pavilion, seeing many tents set up by the riverside, with several combat platforms in the middle.

The registration area was inside a large tent next to the pavilion, with a large sign beside it, clearly marked with the words "Registration Area."

In front of the pavilion, quite a few people were already lining up waiting.

Duan Xiaoliu hurried to the end of the line.

At that moment, the sky was not fully illuminated yet, and the people inside the pavilion had not arrived.

This wait lasted an entire hour.

The original queue of seven or eight people had now grown into a long line, about fifty to sixty people at a glance.

Duan Xiaoliu watched with twitching eyelids; there were way too many people, weren’t there?

Could he really stand out among so many people and be noticed by those two Third Grade experts?

Just as he was thinking, the person responsible for registration finally arrived.

...

After waiting for a while, it was finally Duan Xiaoliu’s turn. The two tall guards outside the tent signaled for him to enter.

Only then did Duan Xiaoliu step inside. He had just witnessed them restrain and throw out two queue jumpers, indicating at least Ninth Grade strength.

The guards were both Ninth Grade, so one could imagine the people inside must be significant figures.

Inside the tent, there were only three people: a young man around twenty years old with an impressive demeanor, and two accountant-like individuals who were seated on the side writing something.

The two accountants started asking questions.

"What’s your name?"

"How old are you?"

"Where are you from?"

"What is your cultivation level?"

Upon hearing this, Duan Xiaoliu lowered his head guiltily, "Ninth... Ninth Grade."

After the two men finished asking questions, the young man spoke, "Come here, I’ll test your strength. Only those who meet the requirements are qualified to enter the apprentice tournament."

Duan Xiaoliu hurriedly asked, "How do you qualify?"

The young man replied, "I’ll be the judge. Come on, try hitting me with a palm strike."

"This—"

Duan Xiaoliu hesitated.

"Don’t waste time. If you don’t dare to make a move, it’s better to leave here early."

Duan Xiaoliu steeled his heart and struck out with a palm.

Bang!

His palm fiercely collided with the other’s hand, instantly feeling an overwhelming force unleash, knocking him to the ground, causing a stifling sensation in his chest, almost fainting.

At this moment, he heard the other’s assessment, "Not bad, your basics are solid. You are indeed Ninth Grade, you’ve passed."

Duan Xiaoliu thought he misheard, he passed just like that?

The young man said, "Don’t just stand there, take your number badge, zero five three nine. Come to the competition in four days, remember to bring this along. Only the number badge will be called."

"Alright."

Duan Xiaoliu scrambled up from the ground, took the number badge, and once he left the tent, he sprinted wildly until he reached a deserted place, only to look at the bamboo number badge in his hand and foolishly smile.

He actually passed, he could participate in the apprentice tournament.

This means he has a chance to be taken as a disciple by a Third Grade expert.

Zero five three nine!

This number feels lucky.

Wait...

Duan Xiaoliu suddenly realized, does this mean there are already five hundred and thirty-eight people before him that have passed?

Looking ahead at the long queue in front of the pavilion.

There are four days left, and surely those who get a number badge would be in the thousands?

This number made his scalp tingle.

For the first time, he realized there were so many martial arts practitioners in the world.

...

[You defeated an LV11 enemy, gaining 40 experience points.]

Seeing such a notification, Chen Ming felt not a trace of joy.

"Another Ninth Grade."

He sighed, these days, ninety percent of those registering are Ninth Grade, about ten people are Eighth Grade, fewer are Seventh Grade, only five. No one is Sixth Grade.

Defeating a Ninth Grade only yields forty points.

An Eighth Grade is a hundred points.

A Seventh Grade is four hundred points.

Of course, he hoped there would be more high-level cultivators coming.

Chen Ming devised strategies for Feng Siyuan, persuaded Zhao Xiyan, and worked hard to create a tournament plan, all for this day!

Everyone wishing to participate in the apprenticeship tournament must have a go against him.

So far, more than two thousand have registered, half are local to Qingfeng City. He has eliminated three-quarters of them.

Those eliminated were due to age not meeting requirements.

Of course, the gains these days have been immense, totaling over eighty thousand experience points.

Moreover, with four days of registration left, surely many more would come, conservatively estimating he could earn over a hundred thousand experience points this time.

He couldn’t help but give himself a pat on the back for such a brilliant idea.

PS: Third update requests monthly votes, blown out until even the mother can’t recognize.