“Oh? What’s your plan, Father? The Martial Exam’s run by the empire, sure, we’ve got pull in Dongyuan, but we wouldn’t dare meddle with it, right?” Mo Yangrong asked, puzzled.
“Not meddling with the exam itself, yesterday I visited Cao Ping, he’d planned to solidify his strength a few more years before joining the Martial Exam, but after some convincing and incentives, he signed up for this one,” Clan Leader Mo said with a smile.
“Cao Ping’s in the Martial Exam?” Mo Yangrong gaped.
Cao Ping was another Dongyuan legend.
Over a decade ago, he’d hit Tribulation realm, and at just over 400 years old, he was a young gun among Tribulation realm cultivators.
Normally, reaching Tribulation realm took ages—mastering those mysteries was a slog, so most were ancient.
With his strength, Cao Ping could’ve joined the Martial Exam ages ago and nabbed prefecture first, no sweat.
The signup age cap was 500.
But he’d held off, aiming to join right before 500, gunning for national champ, not just prefecture.
That’s why he’d plotted so carefully.
With a few years till 500, he’d meant to train more, hitting 499 for max prep and odds.
Tempted by Mo’s bait, he’d jumped the gun for this round.
“Ha, if that’s the case, that bloke’s odds of winning the prefecture round just got slimmer,” Mo Yangrong beamed.
“Rong’er, here’s more dirt.”
Clan Leader Mo leaned in, whispering something.
Mo Yangrong’s eyes lit up, “So, Lin Yun’s got no shot at prefecture champ!”
“As long as he doesn’t win, he loses the capital ticket, post-exam, we can deal with him however—unless he hides in Zhu Clan forever!” Clan Leader Mo chuckled.
“Lin Yun, you could’ve had a bright future, pity you crossed Mo Clan, you’ll lose it all and bite the dust.”
“That’s what you get for messing with us!” Mo Yangrong glared out the window, face twisted.
…
Time rolled on, days flew by.
The grand Martial Exam prefecture round arrived.
Held yearly, it was a big deal!
Most prefecture champs became empire generals, reaping resources, fame, and fortune.
That’s why countless cultivators flocked to it!
But it was just step one into the empire.
How far you climbed after? All on you!
9 a.m., Dongyuan Prefecture city square.
All Martial Exam entrants gathered.
Plus hordes of onlookers and contestants’ kin.
“Father, I’ll give it my all, I’ll hit top 100, make the family proud!”
“Son, just do your best!”
“Junior Sister, I’ll join Dongyuan this time, when I’m strong, I’ll keep you safe!”
…
Contestants poured out their hearts to families or soaked up encouragement, brimming with fire.
Countless cultivators, after centuries of grind, saw this as their shot to soar!
Lin Yun arrived too.
Zhu Xu and Clan Leader Zhu tagged along.
“Bloody lively, so many people,” Lin Yun marveled at the scene.
“Brother Lin Yun, today’s just picking the top twenty, should be a doddle for you,” Zhu Xu grinned.
“Should be fine,” Lin Yun said.
His arrival sparked notice.
“Look, that young chap with Zhu Xu, it’s Lin Yun—the one who beat Wei Qi!”
“That’s the legendary Lin Yun? So young!”
“Looks like he’s in today’s prefecture round?”
“Heard he signed up, wonder what he’ll score—maybe first?”
…
Lin Yun stirred a buzz.
This mysterious, storied ‘Lin Yun’ piqued everyone’s curiosity.
They itched to see if he lived up to the hype.
He was used to the stares by now.
“Brother Zhu Xu, will Wei Qi join the Martial Exam? He’s under the age cap, eligible, right?” Lin Yun asked.
“Heard he once killed a county lord, if he joins and wins prefecture, heading to the capital means a background check—digging up everything, that could spell trouble for him,” Zhu Xu said.
“Makes sense,” Lin Yun nodded.
Like a political vetting back on Earth.
“Plus, I hear Wei Qi loves freedom, wild and unbound, doesn’t fancy empire shackles,” Zhu Xu added.
“That so?” Lin Yun smiled.
He vibed with freedom too—fame and riches didn’t drive him.
But with a big grudge and a need to return to Star Martial Empire fast, the Martial Exam was his ticket into Fire Cloud Empire.
For those he had to protect, some things got sacrificed.
Then, a middle-aged man in a red python robe, radiating authority, strode in, flanked by Dongyuan Prefecture troops!
“The Prefecture Lord’s here!”
His entrance whipped the crowd into a frenzy.
“That’s Dongyuan’s Prefecture Lord?” Lin Yun peered from afar.
He shone like a beacon, commanding awe.
“Hail the Prefecture Lord of Dongyuan!”
Everyone—contestants, spectators—bowed low, their roar shaking the sky.
The Prefecture Lord took it in stride, heading straight for the front seats, no pause.
“Zhu Xu, who’s that walking side-by-side with him?” Lin Yun asked, eyeing ahead.
Beside the Prefecture Lord was a middle-aged man in brocade robes and an official hat.
Lin Yun reckoned anyone matching his stride wasn’t ordinary.
“Brother Lin Yun, that’s the empire envoy, oversees the prefecture round, every prefecture gets one to stop cheating and keep it fair,” Zhu Xu explained.
Lin Yun got it.
Hand the whole prefecture round to local lords, and they’d rig it—fairness would tank.
