C4 Disciple Selection!

Upon Han Binn's sudden arrival, both father and son were taken aback. Han Fei let out a cold, mocking laugh and said, "You think you can pursue cultivation with the way you look? You're better off heading back to the fields." His interactions with Han Binn had been brief, but he'd often heard his father speak of Han Binn's humble family and their eagerness to ingratiate themselves with his own. These stories had shaped his less-than-favorable opinion of Han Binn.

Han Tianlong's response was more diplomatic. With a smile, he said, "My nephew, your constitution really isn't suited for cultivation. You should stay and rest up at the mansion. Moreover, even if you were to encounter the Immortal, there's no guarantee he'd take you on as a disciple." What he left unsaid was his concern that Han Binn might somehow bring trouble to his own son.

A shadow fell over Han Binn's face. The others' words left little room for hope, but he couldn't let go of this last thread of possibility. Clenching his teeth, he said, "Uncle, I understand if you won't take me with you. Just tell me where to find the Immortal's disciple, and I'll search on my own." He had overheard Han Fei mention the Immortal was in the city, but Skywind City was vast, and he was a stranger to its streets. Where to begin his search? He had considered asking around, but would any ordinary person know the whereabouts of an Immortal? As a boy from a mountain village, new to the city, he was clueless about urban affairs. Had he known that the Immortal's disciple selection was happening at the State Sect, he wouldn't have wasted his breath with so many questions.

Hearing this, Han Fei scoffed, "Cousin, I'd advise against it. The Han family can't afford such embarrassment."

"You..." Han Binn had been holding back, but now he reached his breaking point. He yelled at Han Fei, "What do you really want from me?" He wouldn't confront his uncle, but being repeatedly scorned by someone his own age was more than he could bear. He was, after all, still a young man, and at his age, it was all too easy to act on impulse.

Upon witnessing Han Binn's rage, Han Fei couldn't help but be amused rather than upset. With a smile, he quipped, "I've yet to see your skills, but you certainly don't lack spirit. Having a cousin like you is downright embarrassing." Turning to his father, Han Tianlong, he suggested, "Father, let's not stoop to arguing with the villagers. We provide for him, and yet he aspires to lord over us. We should leave."

Han Tianlong was indeed very fond of his son and found his words to be sensible. Nodding in agreement, he remarked, "Indeed, let's move on. What could a villager possibly understand about cultivating immortality? The very idea is absurd."

As the two departed, Han Binn's heart ached as though it were being carved with a knife. Was he to simply surrender, return home, and await death's approach? No, that wasn't an option. If Han Fei could catch the eye of the immortals, so could he. Known for his stubbornness and exceptional perseverance since childhood, Han Binn was determined to persevere on his chosen path, whether it was deemed right or wrong.

At dawn the following day, Han Tianlong and his son set off for a State Sect's branch in Tianfeng City.

The State Sect's branch served the State Sect, but its members were not true disciples and lacked the qualifications to practice the Dao. Their role was limited to gathering intelligence and transporting supplies. While their standing within the State Sect was quite low, they held considerable status within the Empire. As direct liaisons to the State Sect, they were entrusted with proclaiming the Sect's decrees, wielding authority that often surpassed even the Imperial Edicts.

Shortly after the carriage departed, Han Binn stealthily followed suit. Recognized by the gate guard, he was allowed to pass without hindrance.

Blending into the crowd, Han Binn discreetly trailed the carriage.

In the Ming Empire, the State Sect commanded the faith of all. Its branches housed sacred spaces for offering prayers to the heavens. Whether for significant events or daily concerns, people flocked to these places seeking divine favor. On a typical day, the branches bustled with activity and the air was thick with incense. Today, with the State Sect's announcement of accepting new disciples, the site swelled with over ten thousand visitors in just a couple of hours, including officials, commoners, and even the City Lord accompanied by his daughter.

The State Sect was notoriously selective in its disciple recruitment, with entry typically hinging on having the right connections—a fact well-known to many. Yet, this year, the criteria for acceptance had mysteriously become astonishingly simple. Any child between the ages of ten and fifteen, free of disabilities and of any gender, was eligible to apply.

A vast square sprawled before the State Sect's branch, capable of holding tens of thousands. By the time Han Tianlong arrived with his son, it was already teeming with people. Accustomed to the cutthroat worlds of government and commerce, Han Tianlong was nonetheless taken aback by the turnout. "This many people?" he exclaimed. "Has the State Sect really made it this easy to become a disciple?"

Disembarking from their carriage, they proceeded on foot. Han Tianlong's official garb parted the sea of commoners, who watched with a mix of envy and admiration as he and his son advanced to the front. Approaching within a hundred feet of the gate, Han Tianlong hesitated; the crowd here was composed of officials, each outranking him.

Just then, a high-ranking official at the forefront turned around and, upon spotting Han Tianlong, greeted him with a warm smile. "Old Han, you've come as well."

Brightening, Han Tianlong quickly ushered his son forward, replying, "City Lord, what brings you here?"

City Lord Ling Tianxiang returned the smile. "How could I miss such an important event? If only I had more children of the right age—I'd bring them all." His gaze shifted to Han Fei, then to the young girl beside him, clad in pale green and as charming as her bright, blinking eyes suggested. "And you've brought your son?"

Han Tianlong bowed respectfully. "City Lord, your daughter is beyond compare; the State Sect is sure to select her." His years navigating the corridors of power had taught him well: a horse, no matter whose it is, always serves its purpose.

Ling Tianxiang was well aware of his penchant for flattery, especially when it came to horses, which is why he had summoned him. He was eager to bask in the praise in front of the assembled officials.

Indeed, this time Ling Tianxiang's heart swelled with satisfaction. He beamed, "You've hit the mark. The Immortal has seen her and proclaimed her talent to be exceptional. She's certain to be admitted into the State Sect." After all, as the City Lord, he had the influence to arrange a preliminary assessment of his daughter's qualifications by the Immortal. And now, with the Immortal's endorsement, they had come together. Had it not been for this assurance, a failure would have meant a humiliating loss of face before the crowd.

Just then, the doors of the State Sect's branch swung open, and an elder in a red Taoist robe emerged. His hair was snow-white, but his eyes sparkled with vitality. His robe fluttered as if stirred by an unseen breeze, exuding an air of otherworldly wisdom. Following him were two disciples in white robes, their presence dimmer in comparison to their master's.

With a flourish of his sleeves, the elder announced, "My people, the State Sect is seeking to recruit exceptional disciples to study the Immortal Arts. Anyone who meets the criteria, regardless of their background, is welcome to apply." His tone grew stern as he added, "Let it be known that age impersonation will be met with the full weight of the law."

At this, those in the square who had contemplated falsifying their age to appear younger or older promptly abandoned such thoughts. Under the laws of the Ming Empire, such deceit was a grave offense. Punishments ranged from immediate execution for minor cases to the decimation of one's entire family line, extending to all nine kinship degrees, for the most severe.

Having delivered his message, the elder swept his sleeves once more and retreated into the branch, leaving a final instruction echoing behind him, "All eligible children, step forward. Adults, please wait here outside." To the common folk, those aged between ten to fifteen were on the cusp of youth, with fifteen-year-olds often regarded as adults. Yet, in the eyes of the Immortals, they were but children, for the Immortals themselves could live well beyond two centuries.

Despite the bustling crowd in the square, it was typically adults accompanying children, with a fair number of onlookers as well. Yet, only a few hundred children actually qualified. As they filed through the gate, the last child entered just as two disciples clad in black were about to seal the entrance. At that moment, a young voice rang out, "Hold on, I'm still here!"

The disciples paused, peering through the narrowing door gap to see a youth hurrying towards them. Impatiently, one said, "Make it quick."

The youth was none other than Han Binn, who had been trailing the group for some time. Alone and without an adult by his side, he was largely ignored, dismissed as just another kid there for the spectacle. But Han Binn's last-minute dash caught the crowd off guard, prompting them to part ways and clear a path for him.

Han Tianlong, deep in conversation with the City Lord, was taken aback to see Han Binn approaching. "What are you doing here?" he called out.

"Do you know him?" Ling Tianxiang inquired, puzzled.

"No, I don't," Han Tianlong replied hastily. "I saw him begging on the street earlier; he seemed rather destitute, so I gave him some charity. But I didn't expect him to be so audacious as to aspire to learn the Immortal Arts." As someone who valued his reputation, he would never admit to having a rural relative—that would be more unbearable than death itself.

Ling Tianxiang's gaze swept over the crowd, noting the absence of any family members. He sighed, "It's truly remarkable!" Then, addressing Han Binn who was sprinting towards the gate, he called out, "Young man, I believe in you." For a beggar to seek the path of cultivation amidst such scorn and derision was extraordinary. Even if he didn't succeed, the bravery he displayed was beyond what most children could muster.

As Han Binn ran forward, he glanced back, gracing Ling Tianxiang with a heartfelt smile. It was the first genuine encouragement he had received since leaving his village.

Caught off guard, Han Tianlong asked, "City Lord, what's this about?"

"This kid is something else," Ling Tianxiang mused, watching Han Binn's retreating figure, his words tinged with intrigue.

Years in the government had tainted his thoughts, but his ability to judge character remained sharp. From the moment he laid eyes on Han Binn, he sensed the boy was extraordinary. Predicting his future, however, was beyond even Ling's foresight. As City Lord, he had sized up countless individuals—many were an open book, but Han Binn struck him as an ocean: vast, immeasurable, and unfathomable.

Upon Han Binn's arrival at the State Sect's branch, all eyes—save for those of a red-robed elder, deep in meditation—were fixed on him.

Han Fei was visibly taken aback, blurting out, "Why him?"

Ling Shuang'er, the City Lord's daughter, was right by his side. Her large eyes blinked with curiosity as she inquired, "Do you know him?"

In that instant, the attention shifted to Han Fei. Denying any acquaintance with Han Binn seemed futile, so he admitted, "It's not that I know him well. I've encountered him before when he was begging. I've given him alms." The apple doesn't fall far from the tree; his words echoed those of Han Tianlong almost to the letter.

Their conversation wasn't loud, yet in the hushed courtyard of the State Sect, every child heard them clearly.

Whispers rippled through the crowd of children.

"If a beggar can pursue the Immortal Arts, couldn't we become immortals too?"

"Exactly! But the idea of a beggar turning into an immortal is quite hilarious."

"What status does an immortal hold? Does a beggar even have the right?"

The two disciples in white robes exchanged uneasy glances, then turned to the old man, who remained with eyes closed, seemingly at peace. They gestured discreetly to the disciples at the entrance. Catching the signal, one disciple addressed Han Binn with a firm tone, "You, step outside." With the presence of the immortal, his command was courteous, lacking the harsh dismissal often used before.