A figure appeared at the wide-open doors of the hall.
Several disciples from various sects serving inside rushed forward to block him, but then they saw the defensive array protecting the Evaluation Hall part on its own before the man. Stunned, they halted in their tracks.
Dressed in a scholar's robes with sword-sharp brows and starry eyes, the newcomer was none other than Zhang Sheng. At his appearance, some evaluators were astonished, some sneered with disdain, and others remained impassive.
Zhang Sheng's face still bore an unusual pallor, yet the moment he stood there, every evaluator felt a faint, stinging burn across their skin. Shock gripped their hearts.
The elderly cultivator probed cautiously, "Junior Brother Zhang, I had heard that your Dao power had yet to return. I never expected you to have fully recovered. Truly a cause for celebration."
Zhang Sheng replied indifferently, "Only with my Dao power restored could I come to meet all these demons and monsters."
The old Confucian had a fiery temper and could never stomach such acerbic taunts. His eyebrows shot up as he barked, "Presumptuous—"
Before he could finish, Zhang Sheng casually flicked his left hand. A crisp crack rang out, and the old Confucian was struck squarely across the face through the empty air, blood spraying from his nose and mouth.
The entire hall was stunned.
"I didn't give you permission to speak," Zhang Sheng said mildly.
Furious, the middle-aged Confucian leapt to his feet and pointed at Zhang Sheng. Before he could open his mouth, another sharp crack sounded, and he too took a slap across the face.
"Nor did I give you permission to speak."
An uproar swept through the Evaluation Hall. Both Confucians were high cultivators of the Four Sages Academy; how could they be so utterly helpless to retaliate? Boiling with rage, their dharmic power surged as they prepared to strike.
Zhang Sheng raised a slender, pale index finger to his glabella. A ray of azure light drifted from his fingertip, and in an instant, a fine drizzle began to fall across the entire hall. The rain drifted like mist and silk, carrying a lazy warmth reminiscent of Jiangnan spring rain. Yet the moment the evaluators were caught in it, they felt as though mountains pressed down upon them, rendering them completely unable to move.
The bones of the two Confucians creaked violently as their dharmic power collapsed. They tumbled back into their chairs, incapable of lifting so much as a finger.
Aside from Daoist Fufeng, who moved freely, the remaining evaluators struggled desperately against the corrosive, suppressive force of the drizzle, unable even to utter a word. Only now did they realize just how terrifying Zhang Sheng was—single-handedly, he had suppressed five evaluators.
Furthermore, their Dao Foundations trembled and wailed incessantly, as though filled with immense dread toward the drizzle.
Those well-versed in lore instantly recalled a legendary Dao Foundation: the Immortal Sword 'Azure Silk Rain.'
This sword was both supremely soft and supremely unyielding. Its most terrifying aspect was its ability to shave away Dao Foundations; taking a few strikes from it could lower a Dao Foundation's grade. That was no laughing matter—it could very well sever one's path of cultivation. Thus, none of them dared let a single strand of rain touch their flesh.
Zhang Sheng walked slowly to the center of the hall before speaking. "There is no need for concern, everyone. I only wish to speak a few words in peace and harmony."
The evaluators cursed violently in their hearts. An immortal sword hanging over our heads, and you call this peace and harmony? Yet they dared only vent within their minds, not daring to let their expressions slip in the slightest. If the drizzle turned into sword qi, hundreds of holes would be punched through them in an instant.
Hearing Zhang Sheng's words, the monk hurriedly chimed in, "Senior Brother, please, speak freely!"
Though unable to move their bodies, the evaluators all focused their gazes on the monk, shocked to the core. This fellow can still talk?
Seeing their stares, the monk realized his blunder and hastily snatched up a fruit, stuffing it into his mouth.
Hm? He can still move? A dangerous gleam flashed in Zhang Sheng's eyes, and deep within his pupils, the faint silhouette of an immortal sword surfaced once more.
Terrified, sweat breaking out across his bald head, the monk immediately cast his gaze downward, settling his breath and withdrawing his awareness into deep meditation.
Having cowed the entire hall, Zhang Sheng finally spoke. "I know that overstepping boundaries has always occurred in the unified examination, but I never imagined you would dare act so brazenly, arbitrarily suppressing scores under baseless pretexts! Those two slaps just now were on behalf of my disciple. If you two are dissatisfied, once I withdraw my immortal sword, feel free to challenge me to a duel!"
Zhang Sheng looked at the old Confucian and said, "If three sword strikes do not kill you, I will immediately reincarnate and start my cultivation anew!"
He then turned to the middle-aged Confucian. "You will be slightly more trouble. Probably four strikes."
Liu Sigu's aged face flushed crimson, while the middle-aged scholar turned pale and green by turns. Neither spoke, nor could they.
Their eyes darted about, but the other evaluators either gazed up at the ceiling or closed their eyes in inward contemplation, none willing to meet their gaze. Every evaluator understood that wrongs had their sources and debts had their debtors; no one was willing to tie themselves to the two Confucians at a time like this. Besides, they had never received the slightest benefit from them in the past, so why should they take the blow for them now?
Zhang Sheng slowly retracted the sword qi and silky rain. Glancing at the two Confucians, he sneered, "The scores for the first two rounds cannot be altered, but I will be watching to see how you score this one! You may do whatever you please, but this immortal sword of mine has a rather poor temper. If it finds something displeasing, it might just sever a head! When that time comes, I shall return to the Palace of Grand Beginning on my own to receive my punishment. As for trading a life for a life—ha! Are you two even worthy?"
A chill ran through everyone as they truly grasped Zhang Sheng's resolve.
Having regained their freedom, the evaluators breathed sighs of relief and turned their eyes toward the two Confucians. Yet though the pair had been brimming with murderous fury moments ago, now that they could actually act, they sat as unyielding as boulders, faces devoid of ripples. They focused entirely on observing the martial test, not uttering a single word about what had just transpired.
If not for the swelling across half of Liu Sigu's face and the bruise at the corner of the middle-aged Confucian's mouth, it would have seemed as though those two slaps had never occurred.
Zhang Sheng waited for a long time, but neither Confucian issued a challenge, nor did they even utter a harsh word. Leaving his immortal sword suspended in vain felt thoroughly awkward.
Such forbearance—letting spit dry on their faces—forced even Zhang Sheng to marvel.
"They can truly endure," Zhang Sheng could only sigh.
The two Confucians focused intently on the martial test, hearing nothing.
The immortal sword had already been drawn, but with his opponents shrinking their necks back like turtles, it hardly felt right to yank their heads out just to hack them off. Zhang Sheng was not like the two Confucians, after all, and could not bring himself to do such a thing.
In truth, the evaluators understood clearly. For a genius like Zhang Sheng, even if he killed someone on the spot in the Evaluation Hall, would the Palace of Grand Beginning truly make him pay with his life? At most, he would be sentenced to face the wall in reflection for a few decades. The sect would then negotiate terms with the Four Sages Academy, exchange pleasantries, and pay some immortal silver to smooth things over. Within a few years, Zhang Sheng would be released, but the dead would remain truly dead.
Yet another doubt lingered in everyone's mind. The unified examination in Fengyuan Commandery this year was exceptional; it was not merely watched by the people inside the Evaluation Hall. Great figures from the various sects were undoubtedly watching from above. Yet with Zhang Sheng behaving so outrageously, why was there no reaction from any of those mighty figures? Even the great cultivators of the Four Sages Academy remained utterly silent.
***
The martial test had been underway for some time, and the situation on the field was growing clearer.
The azure and yellow teams occupied the north and south respectively, both having completed their reconnaissance of the terrain and enemy deployments. Throughout the entire process, neither side's scouts had suffered casualties, which counted as a modest miracle.
In the south, Li Zhi had initially deployed his formation near the eastern hills, but after the enemy scouts passed through, he shifted it to the west.
In the north, a girl as delicate as carved jade stood at the center army. After Li Zhi's scouts finished their reconnaissance, she advanced the center army forward by a hundred zhang, occupying a small rise adjacent to the central area.
In the south, Li Zhi gazed far into the north, though he could only faintly make out the edge of the central zone. To his left stood a girl holding a jade platter, atop which over a hundred pills were neatly arranged. Every pill distributed to the ordinary soldiers was gathered on that tray.
Li Zhi said, "In warfare, quality surpasses quantity. By concentrating these pills, each of the thirty elites in my personal guard can receive three. In this way, this guard of mine can fight from the very beginning to the bitter end!"
The girl looked up at Li Zhi, her eyes full of admiration. "Senior Brother Li, your command of troops is truly divine!"
Chapter 17