"645... 644... 639..."
One classmate after another materialized before Qian Shen. He couldn't see their faces — only the scores floating above their heads.
"680. 690. 660."
Every number blazed with impossible brilliance, making him shrink inward. He felt like a bag of wet garbage standing among giants.
*I'm not worthy. A pathetic 600-something like me has no right to stand here, no right to speak, no right to even approach them.*
In his vision, the scores climbed higher and higher. His classmates' figures swelled into towering colossi. Soon he could only see their legs. Their faces had vanished into the clouds.
---
On the other side of the exhibition, Li Xingyu's box-drone hummed toward the Celestial Combat Painting. With a crackle and a pop, it sputtered, tilted, and crashed to the floor.
"Soul cultivators from Mount Mang High are buried in contracts," Li Xuelian murmured. "No business here." Her gaze swept past the downed drone to the other students.
*A pity. Almost everyone trying today is a first-year. Second and third-years would have a better chance at mastering the painting's martial art. But they're either over the age limit or already bound by contracts — none of them would come seeking a new master.*
The golden-skinned Director of the Celestial Rhythm Group approached her. "This Celestial Combat Painting is truly extraordinary, as expected of Senior Starfire. May I ask — what exactly does it test?"
Li Xuelian didn't answer directly. "The first stage of the painting tests the Dao Heart."
"Those who fail are forced back, and may even suffer cracks in their resolve."
---
Zhao Tianxing felt the weight of countless contemptuous, mocking gazes pressing him backward, step by step, until he staggered out of the painting's range.
When his vision cleared, he saw the exhibition hall as it actually was — no one was looking at him. No one was laughing. The "crowd" and their "scornful eyes" had been the painting's illusion.
Realizing he'd failed the test, his face burned. He retreated quickly, praying no one had noticed his humiliation.
---
Li Xuelian continued her explanation. "Those who pass the first stage gain a tempered Dao Heart."
"Most cultivators rely on Heart Methods to elevate their Dao Heart level. Different Heart Methods require different mindsets."
"Consider the ancient God-Worship Heart Method — the cultivator must be devout, holding absolute faith in the divine. The more devout, the stronger the method's effect."
"Or Purple Cloud High's Heavenly Diligence Heart Method — it demands the cultivator push ascetic practice to the extreme, until suffering becomes instinct."
"Even the Basic Heart Method taught in high schools seeks calm focus — requiring patience and the mindset of water wearing through stone."
"Heart Methods number in the thousands. But the key is whether the cultivator's mindset truly aligns with their method."
"Yet the mind is unpredictable. Whether someone's thoughts genuinely match their Heart Method — not even they themselves can always say."
"Since a stronger Dao Heart means stronger willpower, testing willpower became the simplest way to measure Dao Heart level and verify Heart Method progress."
The Director's eyes gleamed. "I see. Senior Starfire wants a disciple with a flexible mind? Someone who practices the God-Worship Method yet can switch deities? Someone who follows Heavenly Diligence yet excels at both asceticism and slacking?"
Li Xuelian nodded. "A Heart Method is only as good as the mind that wields it. But a truly gifted cultivator can adjust their thinking to suit any method, any environment. That's what my father seeks."
"Especially today. The Ten Great Sects shape every aspect of society. All of Kunxu is in flux. A rigid mind cannot survive."
"Consider: in this era, exams and scores are inseparable from cultivation. Every modern cultivator's mind is shaped, in part, by their obsession with scores. A strong score and the drive to maintain it can make a top student's will unshakable — their Dao Heart soars."
"But this is also a weakness. There's always someone better. Many students who shine at the top crumble into self-doubt the moment they fall behind."
"To pass, one must adapt their thinking in the face of that fear."
She paused. "Once, a student faced endless low scores in the painting's trial. Eventually, they conquered their fear of poor grades and forged a mindset of delusion — 'I am the worst, therefore I can only rise.' A mad conviction."
---
In Lian Tianji's mind, the teacher was still reading scores. The numbers sank lower and lower. He was the last. The very last.
He stood abruptly and laughed.
"Hahaha! If I'm already the worst — the absolute bottom — then I can only climb!"
"From today, I am the scum! The lowest of the low! But even scum can surpass you all and claim the throne!"
"I will be number one!"
As his terror shattered, the world shifted. The exhibition materialized around him again. The Celestial Combat Painting grew sharper, clearer.
---
Qian Shen lay on the ground, staring up at the colossi and their blazing scores. He'd stopped trying to rise.
"Fine."
"I'll stop chasing."
"I just need to cultivate. Even if I can't beat anyone... as long as I can cultivate, that's enough."
Like waking from a dream, he opened his eyes. The exhibition hall materialized. The painting hung before him. Something in his gaze had changed.
---
The Director nodded. "Mindset is shaped by the times. In our society, everyone carries debt. That must surely appear in the painting's trials too."
"Indeed," Li Xuelian agreed. "A student once faced the horror of the cultivation debt collection process in the painting's trial. They emerged with the mindset of a deadbeat — 'I owe what I owe. Come get it if you dare.'"
---
Bai Zhenzhen crouched on the floor, staring at the thunder crackling overhead.
"Wait! I'll pay!"
"I'll pay, okay!"
"Just don't strike me!"
She fumbled for her phone, checking accounts. How much did she owe? How much could she pay?
"800,000?!"
The first lending platform hit like a sledgehammer. The second showed 1.2 million. Cold sweat poured down her back.
2 million. 5 million. 8 million.
As the total climbed, her hand holding the phone went limp.
Eight million in debt. For a high school student, this was either total breakdown or—
Bai Zhenzhen lay flat on the floor, staring at the sky, and screamed.
"Then strike me dead!"
"If you kill me, the eight million vanishes with me!"
The thunder rumbled but held.
"See? You won't do it!" She pointed at the sky. "Either strike me and erase eight million, or find me some work so I can earn money and pay it back!"
Slowly, the thunder dispersed. The Celestial Combat Painting reappeared before her. And as she watched the figure within demonstrate its martial art, something clicked.
---
Li Xuelian sighed. "Whether it's delusion, lying flat, or the deadbeat mindset — they're all coping mechanisms. Ways to resist pressure through thought. They can temper will and Dao Heart, but the future depends on what happens in reality."
"This is only the first gate. A threshold."
She recalled her own youth. Her father had tested her Dao Heart too. What she feared most was him. In the trial, he'd crushed her under overwhelming pressure — until she'd erupted in rebellion, forging a mindset of patricidal fury. She'd woken up ready to rob the old man blind, and her cultivation had surged.
It lasted about a week before real-world pressures and her father's actual behavior restored her respect for him.
The Director understood. The painting's effects were temporary. The human mind was endlessly malleable — how could a single trial compete with the relentless grind of society?
Li Xuelian continued, "Surviving the first gate — conquering your terrors — is only the beginning. True comprehension comes next. And mastering the martial art itself is yet another matter."
The Director nodded. Three gates: overcome terror, comprehend the painting, master the martial art.
"How many here do you think can actually succeed?"
Li Xuelian surveyed the students and shook her head. "I fear not one."
---
When Zhang Yu saw the figure in the painting sharpen — saw it begin to demonstrate a fist technique — a chill surged through his body.
*"Please observe the Ritual Contract. Work diligently toward your wish. Do not delay. 10."*
He blinked. *But I AM working hard. I'm comprehending the painting. That's studying. That's on the path to university and a job.*
The chill couldn't converse. It simply continued.
*"Please observe the Ritual Contract. Do not delay. 9."*
*"...8."*
Zhang Yu sat down and began breathing meditation, drawing in spiritual machine from the air. The chill receded. The countdown stopped.
*This idiotic—*
Then a second, different chill surged through him.
*"Please observe the Ritual Contract. Work diligently toward your wish. Do not delay. 10."*
He stared into nothing, thunderstruck.
*But I'm meditating. I'm cultivating right now!*
*Why another countdown?*
*What's wrong with this stupid Ritual?*
He stopped meditating to test. The new chill didn't fade — and a third wave rose.
*"Please observe the Ritual Contract. Do not delay. 10."*
Two countdowns. Alternating. Ticking down in his skull.
Zhang Yu finally understood.
*There are two countdowns?*
*One of them is fake?*