The carriage began descending the slope, heading toward the grand tent city by the lake.
The young man in the black robe continued walking ahead with a lantern. His steps were light and swift, as if mercury flowed through his veins. Despite walking at a pace as fast as a running man, he wasn't out of breath. Smiling gently, he casually explained the Qingluan Academy entrance process to Lin Xi and the old coachman.
"The carriage and any attendants must stop at the stone tablet up ahead. They can rest nearby and wait for tomorrow's results. As for you…" The broad-foreheaded young man pointed toward the lakeside, "You can pick any empty tent to rest in. Chat with the others if you like. All tents are the same—food and drink are available freely. Tomorrow, when an instructor calls your name, follow their lead and begin the test."
"Instructor?" Lin Xi's mouth formed an 'O' of surprise.
"What?" The young man raised an eyebrow at Lin Xi's strange expression.
"It's nothing. The title just sounds... odd." Lin Xi swallowed back the words he almost blurted—"nonsense"—and changed the subject. "Brother Xia, you never asked my name. How will the instructor know it tomorrow? Will they call for me?"
"It's normal you don't know much about Qingluan Academy." Xia Yanbing chuckled, realizing Lin Xi's ignorance. "Before any of you arrived, local authorities had already sent us your personal information. Don't worry—no one will forget you."
"Brother Xia, are you a student at the academy?" Lin Xi looked at Xia Yanbing seriously. "I don't know anything about the entrance exams. Could you tell me what they test?"
"I'm already an instructor now." Xia Yanbing smiled faintly. "As for the test, it changes every year, so I don't know the exact details. But I can tell you—it's always fair. The two things we value most at Qingluan Academy are talent and character. I can't say more than that."
"You're already an instructor?" Even the old coachman looked shocked.
"It's nothing." Xia Yanbing smiled again and turned away, saying no more. But that casual remark made him seem even more impressive and unique.
…
About five miles from the lakeside tent area, a vast open space was already filled with over a thousand carriages. Fires blazed, casting a spectacular scene.
As Lin Xi prepared to get off the carriage and walk the rest of the way, a towering carriage drawn by four blood-red horses barreled down another road. It cut rudely in front of Lin Xi's carriage—clearly familiar with the area and moving without escort—stopping at the stone marker. A boy in a golden robe stepped down.
He looked a year or two younger than Lin Xi, shorter by half a head, pale-skinned, and arrogant. He glanced disdainfully at Lin Xi, who had just appeared at the carriage window.
His luxurious carriage was decorated with heavy brass ornaments. The coachman, a burly middle-aged man in tight-fitting green clothes, drove directly toward Lin Xi's carriage and motioned for the old man to make way.
Xia Yanbing's eyes narrowed, but he calmed when he saw the coachman. He stepped aside and watched.
But the old coachman didn't move. He sat calmly at the front, ignoring the oncoming man.
The burly driver narrowed his eyes, surprised this shabby old man dared defy him.
The two carriages now stood face-to-face, neither backing down. The red horses snorted near Lin Xi's gray ones, and the stand-off attracted attention from both the tent area and the gathered crowd.
Young people love drama. Though the main gathering remained quiet, young candidates burst from the tents to watch.
"Looks smart, turns out he's a fool," muttered a tall girl with a ponytail, scoffing at the arrogant gold-robed boy. She wore a simple blue dress, not breathtakingly beautiful, but strikingly elegant.
"Just a newly rich hick. If it were me, I'd never provoke that carriage," said a dark-skinned youth in silk. His hair was tied neatly with a jade ring, and he carried himself with natural nobility. Around him stood other richly dressed boys.
"Why do you say that, Brother Li?" asked a round-faced youth in expensive fabric.
"The carriage may look worn," Brother Li explained, "but its curtains are woven from phantom rabbit fur dyed with black vine sap—favored by the tribes near Dragon Snake Mountains. Breathable, warm, waterproof, and rot-resistant. The gray horses are mountain-bred and built for endurance. See how exhausted they are? That carriage likely came from far out west. And remember, no one met us when we arrived—guides only showed up here."
The others were shocked. "So that broken-down carriage… might've come from someone powerful out in the borderlands?"
"Sharp eyes, but showing off too much," sneered a thin youth in yellow nearby. "Calling others ignorant just insulted half the people here. He's making enemies fast."
Among the thousands gathered, many were elite prodigies.
"You really won't move?" the burly coachman growled at last.
Most spectators thought the confrontation would end peacefully. After all, Xia Yanbing stood right there.
But to their surprise, Xia stayed out of it—watching like everyone else.
Then came the real shock. The old man said just one word:
"Move."
"You're looking for death!" shrieked the golden-robed youth, face twisted in rage.
"Move aside!" bellowed the coachman, whipping out a black snakeskin whip with a loud crack.
But in that instant, the old man—once tired and withered—moved like a hawk, leaping straight at the coachman. The whip sliced through the air, missing by inches.
With terrifying force and a bloodthirsty aura, the old man smashed a fist into the coachman's face.
Light flared as the punch connected. The coachman's nose broke with a crack, his face splattered like sauce, and he flew through the air—crashing to the ground in agony and disbelief.
The tired gray horses snorted with renewed strength, while the once-proud red steeds panicked, dragging their carriage wildly away.
The golden-robed youth stood frozen, pale with fear.