The central plaza of Gu Moon Village was a wide, packed-earth circle, now cleared of all obstacles. At its center stood a single, waist-high pillar of black stone, its surface worn smooth by generations of hands. The entire village had gathered, forming a silent, watchful ring. Their faces were grim, their eyes hungry. This was not a celebration; it was an audit.
Thirty youths, Meng Ru among them, stood in the center of the plaza. They were a nervous, shuffling herd. Gu Moon Bo stood at the front, chest puffed out, flanked by his sycophants. He shot a contemptuous glare at Meng Ru, who stood near the back, his expression as placid as a winter lake. Feng Yin was a short distance away, her posture rigid, her gaze fixed on the black pillar as if trying to bore a hole through it with sheer willpower.
The Gu Moon clan elder stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The low murmur of the crowd died instantly.
"Today, we test the blood of the new generation," the Elder's voice, though dry, carried across the plaza. "Today, we see who is worthy of the clan's resources and who will remain as chaff. You are not here to prove your individual worth. You are here to prove your value to the clan. Those who fail will bring shame. Those who succeed will bring strength. There is no middle path."
He gestured to another, younger Gu Master standing beside the pillar. "The first trial is a test of will. A test of your spirit. We will see if you have the fortitude to walk the path of a Gu Master."
The younger Gu Master placed his hand on the black stone pillar. He closed his eyes, and a faint, colorless light enveloped the stone. This was the Pressure Rock Gu, a Rank Two Gu that could project a crushing mental force.
Immediately, an invisible weight descended upon the thirty youths.
It was not a physical pressure but a spiritual one. It felt like being submerged in deep, cold water, the weight of the entire ocean pressing in from all sides. It squeezed the air from the lungs, clouded the mind with doubt, and whispered of failure in the deepest corners of the soul.
The first gasps and grunts came quickly. A boy near the front, his face pale and beaded with sweat, stumbled and fell to one knee. His will had cracked.
Gu Moon Bo's face was red with strain, his teeth gritted. He stood his ground, fueled by pride and a desperate need to appear strong. He was fighting the pressure head-on, a bull charging a mountain. It was a foolish, brute-force approach, but his will, bolstered by arrogance, was strong enough to hold for now.
Feng Yin's jaw was tight, her knuckles white. She was enduring, her body a taut line of resistance.
But Meng Ru… was still.
He remembered Feng Yin's advice: Do not fight it head-on. Let it flow around you. He did not try to resist the crushing weight. Instead, he emptied his mind. He did not think of success or failure. He became a hollow reed, allowing the wind of the pressure to pass through him without finding purchase. His consciousness was not a rock to be broken but water, yielding and formless.
The pressure intensified. The whispers of doubt became screams of terror. Another youth collapsed, then a third, their spirits broken. They lay on the ground, panting, their faces streaked with tears of shame.
The Elder watched, his expression unchanging. This was the first, most basic filter. A weak will could never control the power of a Gu.
Meng Ru remained standing, his breathing even, his expression placid. To an outside observer, it looked as if the pressure was having no effect on him at all. He was not straining, not sweating. He was simply… present.
Gu Moon Bo, in his strained state, noticed. The sight of the "river rat" standing so effortlessly while he, the Elder's grandson, was pouring every ounce of his will into resisting, sent a spike of furious jealousy through him. The distraction caused his focus to waver, and the pressure slammed into him. He let out a strangled cry, his legs trembling violently, but he held.
Finally, the light from the stone pillar faded. The pressure vanished as quickly as it had come.
More than a third of the youths had failed. They were helped to the side by their grim-faced families, their ledgers now closed.
The Elder's sharp eyes swept over those who remained. They lingered for a fraction of a breath longer on Meng Ru. There was no praise in his gaze, only a flicker of analytical curiosity. The asset was proving to be more complex than anticipated.
"You have passed the first trial," the Elder announced. "Do not rejoice. The next trial will determine if you have a place in this world at all."