The villagers gathered in the central square, lanterns swaying gently in the morning breeze. Children clung to their parents’ robes, wide-eyed at the sight of the carved stone dais where the Ceremony of Aptitude was about to begin.

  At the front stood Elder Yun, her back bent with age but her voice sharp as a blade. She raised her staff, the wood polished smooth by decades of wandering, and silence fell across the crowd.

  “To wander,” she began, her tone carrying both weariness and fire, “is to be unbound. A cultivator is not chained to hearth or soil, but to the path itself. You will walk roads that break your body, test your spirit, and tempt your heart. Yet only in wandering do we find Heaven’s shadow.”

  Her words stirred murmurs among the younger disciples. Some shifted nervously, others clenched their fists with determination. Elder Yun’s gaze swept over them, lingering on the protagonist.

  “Do not mistake cultivation for power alone. To cultivate is to endure. To wander is to learn. And to learn is to suffer. If you cannot accept this, then Heaven will remain forever beyond your reach.”

  Behind her, two pillars loomed. One was carved with radiant sigils that shimmered faintly, as though light itself breathed within the stone. The other was etched with twisting, alien patterns that seemed to writhe when stared at too long, exuding a strange and oppressive aura.

  Elder Yun struck her staff against the dais. “Step forward when your name is called. Stand between the pillars, and let Heaven judge your aptitude. One pillar measures strength and faith. The other measures resolve and spirit. Only those who endure both will glimpse the path of cultivation.”

  The crowd stirred.

  Pik puffed out his chest, his grin wide. “Hmph! I’m destined for Heaven’s glory. Power was made for me, heheheh!”

  Shin glanced at him with envy, his strange body trembling. Though unnaturally quick and hard as stone, his condition was cursed—Qi itself seemed to vanish near him, leaving him powerless. Uncle Dan had once called him broken stone: solid, unyielding, yet unable to channel the life within.

  Lin crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Destiny means nothing without courage. You’re nothing but a coward, Pik.”

  Bek flexed his bicep with a grin. “Follow me instead—courage and strength! That’s the true path.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Lin scoffed. “You’re no different from Pik. Both of you wag your tails like dogs.”

  Pik sniffed, unbothered. “Strategic retreat is wisdom, not shame.”

  The banter rippled through the disciples, but Elder Yun’s staff struck the stone once more, silencing them.

  “Enough. Let the ceremony begin.”

  One by one, names were called. Each disciple stepped forward, trembling as they stood between the pillars. For a moment, light flickered—sometimes bright, sometimes faint—but always it vanished, leaving only silence. Hope rose and fell like a cruel tide. Some candidates left with crushed expressions, others with hollow laughter, pretending they had never cared.

  Not one had yet passed.

  The square grew heavy with expectation. The villagers whispered, the disciples clenched their fists, and Elder Yun’s eyes gleamed with a knowing fire.

  “Now,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension, “the next name shall be called.”

  Elder Yun’s voice rang out: “Pik.”

  Pik straightened, his grin widening. “Now is my time to shine,” he declared with confidence, striding toward the pillars.

  As he moved forward, Bek frowned, scratching his head. “What’s the purpose of those pillars anyway?”

  Lin, ever sharp, answered without hesitation. “The two pillars measure our affinity and destiny. One will glow in different colors to reveal affinity with the seven elements.”

  She raised her hand, counting them off one by one: “Fire, water, earth, wood, metal, wind, and lightning.”

  Bek blinked, still puzzled. “And the other pillar?”

  Lin’s eyes gleamed. “The other reveals destiny. It shows how Heaven favors you—your luck, your fortune, the unseen hand that guides your path.”

  Shin, curiosity sparking in his strange,, tilted his head. “Affinity I understand. But destiny… what is destiny, truly?”

  Lin’s voice softened, though her words carried weight. “Destiny is luck. It is Heaven’s favor. Without it, even the strongest technique, the finest treasure, or the most blessed body may fail. With it, doors open where none should exist.”

  Bek snorted, skeptical. “And how do you know that? Sounds like superstition.”

  Lin’s gaze sharpened. “It was Uncle Dan who said it. He told us stories—how luck outweighed powerful manuals, sacred weapons, even divine bloodlines. Heaven’s favor is the greatest treasure.”

  Bek scratched his head, looking lost. “I don’t remember any of Uncle Dan’s stories…”

  Lin rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. Your head is full of fat, and you’re always dozing off whenever Uncle Dan begins his tales.”

  The disciples chuckled, but Shin’s expression grew solemn. For the first time, he felt a flicker of hope in Lin’s words. If destiny was luck, perhaps even a broken stone like him might one day be favored by Heaven.

  Great continuation! Let’s polish this scene so Pik’s test feels dramatic, the crowd’s reaction vivid, and Bek’s turn naturally set up. I’ll smooth grammar, pacing, and dialogue while keeping the playful banter intact.

  Pik stepped between the two pillars. The atmosphere grew tense, the air heavy as if Heaven itself leaned closer to watch.

  Suddenly, the first pillar flared with light—its glow deep blue, the mark of a water root. The second pillar shimmered faintly, a small but undeniable spark of destiny.

  The crowd gasped. “Ahhh!” “Look—someone passed the test!”

  Children pointed with wide eyes, villagers murmured in awe, and admiration rippled through the square.

  “Heaven is unfair… what about me?” one disciple whispered bitterly, while others gazed at Pik with a mix of envy and wonder.

  Pik threw back his head and laughed, his voice echoing triumphantly. “I knew it! I am Heaven’s chosen! Hahahahaha!”

  His companions rushed forward, clapping and cheering. “Congratulations, boss!” they shouted, celebrating his victory.

  Lin crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Hmph.”

  Bek, grinning ear to ear, tried to hug Pik’s leg. “Woo! Brother Pik, I’m your little brother now!”

  Pik shoved him off with a sneer. “Get away from me, fatso.”

  Elder Yun’s staff struck the dais again. “Bek,” she called, her voice sharp.

  Bek puffed out his chest. “Now it’s my time to shine!” He strode forward, determination in his step.

  From behind, Shin called out, his voic

  e steady despite the weight in his heart. “Bek—go for it!”

  Bek glanced back, smiling. “I will.”