Chapter Five: Joining the Sunbright Sect

Baiyang Town was nestled at the foot of the Baiyang Sect’s mountain, its origins forever tied to the sect itself. Every summer, the Baiyang Sect would recruit talented young people from the region, drawing aspirants from villages and towns within hundreds of miles. Under the scorching sun, these hopeful youths would flock to Baiyang Town to participate in the selection tests, and many minor sects would also set up shop, hoping to pick up candidates overlooked by the Baiyang Sect.

Today was the day of the Baiyang Sect’s annual recruitment.

Between the southern edge of Baiyang Town and the sect's mountain gate stretched a wide plaza—the designated site for recruitment. Though dawn had barely broken, the plaza was already packed with people, throngs crowding every corner. All around, banners and placards declared “Recruitment Site of Such-and-Such Sect,” creating an atmosphere much like a massive job fair on Earth.

Despite the crowds and the general lack of order, a large swath on the plaza’s southern end remained conspicuously empty and “quiet.” The reason was simple: at the south end stood the mountain gate inscribed with three bold characters—Baiyang Sect. This space was reserved for the sect’s own recruitment, and no one dared cause trouble there.

Since it was still early, the sect’s recruitment team had yet to descend from the mountain, so the southern area remained vacant, save for six disciples in sect attire standing guard at the gate.

On the edge of that empty space, a large group of youths—most in their early teens—stood respectfully, gazing at the mountain gate with awe in their eyes, each hoping to one day join the Baiyang Sect.

Time passed, and as the first rays of sunlight spilled across the plaza, a murmur ran through the crowd—“They're here!” The atmosphere instantly ignited with excitement.

From atop the mountain gate, more than a dozen figures descended swiftly. Leading them was a man in his thirties, dressed in a gray robe, with fine brows and slightly narrow eyes.

Behind him, a group of disciples in sect attire carried various items, their faces tinged with pride—clearly, they took great satisfaction in their identity as disciples of the Baiyang Sect.

They quickly reached the mountain gate.

“Third Elder!” The six disciples guarding the gate greeted him with clasped fists, their expressions respectful.

“Hmm.” The gray-robed man nodded, saying little. With a wave of his hand, the disciples behind him sprang into action, swiftly arranging the recruitment equipment along the vacant southern stretch of the plaza.

“Let’s begin,” the gray-robed man said quietly to a disciple at his side, then took his seat behind the recruitment table.

At his signal, the designated disciple raised his voice and called out, “Baiyang Sect is now recruiting outer disciples! All those wishing to join, queue here and await your turn for the test and assessment!”

With that proclamation, the plaza’s excitement reached a fever pitch.

The Baiyang Sect’s recruitment would last three days.

When Liu Pan arrived at the plaza on the southern edge of Baiyang Town, the sun was already dipping toward the horizon on the third and final day. This wasn’t because he’d missed the previous days, but rather, he’d come deliberately late.

He’d written about the Baiyang Sect’s recruitment scene in his book, so he was well aware of just how intense the event would be. After all, in this remote corner of Nan County, the Baiyang Sect was the only two-star sect and the strongest power around—so its recruitment could only be described as frenzied.

Liu Pan had intentionally avoided the most crowded period, arriving only as the recruitment was drawing to a close—no need to wait in long lines or be crushed in a sweating mob. Why not make things easy for himself?

With the recruitment nearly over, the crowd on the plaza was much thinner than before, and even fewer remained at the various sects’ recruitment booths. Most of those still lingering had failed the tests, staying only to watch others and nurse their envy, jealousy, and resentment.

As Liu Pan entered the plaza, he drew many eyes.

Clad in white, he walked with an air of calm detachment. His short hair framed a handsome face with sword-like brows and clear eyes—a striking young gentleman indeed.

But the image was marred by the great blade slung across his back, nearly five feet in length, wrapped in black cloth that concealed its form and radiated an oppressive aura. It was this imposing weapon that drew most of the stares.

Wherever Liu Pan walked, people instinctively gave way, unwilling to block his path. The unspoken prestige this afforded him was, in his mind, immensely satisfying.

Yet thoughts of the blade behind him—one that would not recognize him as its master—immediately soured his mood. Why, he wondered, couldn’t he possess the Wildflame Bloodline?

Weaving through the thinning crowd, he soon reached the Baiyang Sect’s recruitment area. Only two candidates remained in line for the assessment. Without hesitation, Liu Pan took his place at the end.

The moment he joined the queue, he drew even more attention—even the gray-robed man conducting the assessments glanced up at him.

Liu Pan had heard in the taverns over the past two days that this man was the Baiyang Sect’s Third Elder.

Most only knew him by title, but as the author of this world, Liu Pan knew far more.

The Third Elder’s name was Li Liao, a third-rank Martial Master and a novice Spirit Arrayist. He was also secretly scheming within the sect, involved in matters best left unspoken.

In short, Li Liao was not a good man. Liu Pan planned, upon joining the sect, to keep his distance—though not too much—and to bide his time for an opportunity to put an end to him once and for all.

The Baiyang Sect’s assessment was straightforward: declare your name and origin, test cultivation, test spiritual root, and test bone age. Pass these, and barring any surprises, you would become an outer disciple.

The current candidate was a richly dressed youth, who had introduced himself as the wealthiest man in Xiaoyang Town. Liu Pan spared him only a glance—this character hadn’t even warranted a mention in his book, so he clearly wasn’t anyone of consequence.

The wealthy youth failed the cultivation test and was denied further assessment.

“Elder, please have mercy!” the youth wailed, throwing himself onto Li Liao’s table and, with a desperate cry, produced a large sack, placing it before the elder—a clear attempt at bribery.

But Li Liao, a Martial Master, had no interest in mundane riches. Seeing the bag was filled with silver and gold, he waved dismissively, and a sect disciple promptly kicked the would-be briber away.

The next two candidates, both eighth-rank martial artists with suitable bone ages, passed with ease and became outer disciples. Clearly, they, like Liu Pan, had the strength to enter the sect but had chosen to avoid the crowds.

Soon, it was Liu Pan’s turn.

When asked for his name and origin, Liu Pan replied, “Liu Pan, from Earth Village.”

In this world, only large sects took the trouble to rigorously investigate their disciples’ backgrounds; smaller one- or two-star sects lacked the resources for such scrutiny. The question was merely for the purpose of identity registration—after all, with such a vast world and so many people sharing names, recording both name and place of origin prevented confusion.

With that done, the cultivation test began.

The process was in two parts: first, measuring the strength of one’s internal energy with a special device resembling a liquid thermometer from Earth. One simply gripped the rod and infused it with energy, causing a reading to appear.

But the amount of internal energy was not the whole story—the second part tested physical strength, using an apparatus much like a grip strength meter from Earth.

As Liu Pan held these familiar instruments, he felt a warm nostalgia; after all, he’d designed them in his writing, inspired by Earthly devices.

Testing his cultivation posed no difficulty—he was, after all, a ninth-rank martial artist, his body tempered by external means.

Next came the spiritual root test, using a crystal orb inscribed with an array. Liu Pan already knew his aptitude, so when the orb shone with an icy blue light, he was unsurprised.

To the onlookers, however, the orb’s array was too basic to reveal specifics; it merely indicated Liu Pan possessed a single water spiritual root—nothing to astonish the crowd.

The final test, for bone age, was administered personally by the Third Elder, Li Liao. Since Liu Pan had already declared his age to be under sixteen, he had no worries and submitted to the test with confidence.

As expected, he passed all requirements and became an outer disciple of the Baiyang Sect.

Since Liu Pan was the last candidate, his assessment marked the conclusion of this year’s outer disciple recruitment.

“Yang Xun, take them to the outer hall for registration,” Li Liao said offhandedly, giving Liu Pan and the others a cursory glance before walking away without a backward look.

As he watched Li Liao’s departing figure, Liu Pan’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He had the distinct impression that Li Liao had given him a deliberate glance, and recalling the secrets about Li Liao in his own novel, “Super Super Super Supreme God,” he couldn’t help but wonder—had Li Liao taken a special interest in him?