THE FIGHTER OF DESTINY

EPISODE 3: THE GRAND EXAMINATION

EPISODE 3: THE GRAND EXAMINATION

---

The morning of the Grand Examination dawned cold and gray.

Chen Chang Sheng stood at the gates of the Imperial Academy, surrounded by thousands of cultivators who radiated power like furnaces. Their spiritual energy pressed against him from all sides—a suffocating weight that made his weak meridians ache and his head throb. He felt like a candle flame trapped in a hurricane.

"Are you sure about this?" Tang Thirty-Six asked, his voice low. "There's still time to back out. I could get you a position as a clerk in the Ministry of Rites. Safe work. Boring, but safe."

"I didn't come here to be safe."

"I know." Tang Thirty-Six sighed. "I just wanted to say I tried."

The gates began to open—massive bronze doors engraved with scenes of ancient battles and celestial beings. The cultivators surged forward, eager to claim their places. Chen Chang Sheng let himself be carried by the current, his heart pounding in his chest.

*The Holy Stone has been destroyed. The examination is a trap. If you compete, you will die.*

He pushed Mo Yu's warning to the back of his mind. He had no choice but to move forward.

---

The first round of the examination took place in the Grand Hall—a vast chamber capable of holding thousands. Pillars of white marble rose to a ceiling painted with constellations. At the front of the hall, a panel of examiners sat on a raised dais, their faces stern and unreadable.

"Welcome, candidates," the chief examiner announced, his voice amplified by spiritual energy. "The Grand Examination is the most prestigious competition in the Zhou Dynasty. Only the best will advance. Only the worthy will succeed."

Chen Chang Sheng found a seat near the back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. It didn't work.

"Look, it's the mountain boy!"

"Chen Chang Sheng? The one who's supposed to marry Xu You Rong?"

"What a joke. He doesn't even have spiritual energy. How did he get in?"

The whispers spread through the hall like wildfire. Chen Chang Sheng kept his eyes forward, his face expressionless, even as his hands trembled beneath the table.

The chief examiner raised his hand, and the whispers died. "The first round will test your cultivation foundation. You will channel your spiritual energy into these assessment stones. The stones will measure your power, your purity, and your potential. Those who fail to reach the minimum threshold will be disqualified."

Chen Chang Sheng's blood ran cold.

He couldn't channel spiritual energy. He had never been able to. His meridians were blocked, twisted, useless. No matter how hard he tried, the energy simply refused to flow.

"Begin."

One by one, the candidates approached the assessment stones. They placed their hands on the smooth surfaces and channeled their energy. The stones glowed—some faintly, some brilliantly, according to the power of the cultivator.

"Tang Xue, Fifth Stage of the Purple Flame Realm. Pass."

"Wu Feng, Eighth Stage of the Azure Thunder Realm. Pass."

"Li Wei, Fourth Stage of the Golden Core Realm. Pass."

The names and rankings continued. Chen Chang Sheng watched, his heart sinking with each passing moment. Everyone was so powerful. So talented. So certain of their futures.

And then it was his turn.

"Chen Chang Sheng," the examiner called out. "Approach."

The hall fell silent. Every eye turned to watch him as he walked toward the assessment stone. He could feel their disdain, their pity, their amusement.

*They expect me to fail*, he thought. *They're waiting for it.*

He reached the stone and placed his hand on its surface.

Nothing happened.

He tried harder, pushing every ounce of his will into the stone. His meridians screamed in protest, the familiar ache spreading through his body. But no energy came. No light. No glow.

The silence stretched on, agonizing and absolute.

"Chen Chang Sheng," the examiner said, his voice flat. "Zero spiritual energy. Disqualified."

A wave of laughter rippled through the hall.

"Zero? I didn't even know that was possible."

"Can you imagine? Not a single spark of power."

"Who let him in here? This is an embarrassment to the examination."

Chen Chang Sheng felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He wanted to run, to hide, to disappear into the floor. But his master's voice echoed in his mind.

*You have studied three thousand Taoist texts. You know more about the theory of cultivation than any cultivator alive.*

He took a deep breath.

"Wait," he said.

The laughter died. The examiners stared at him.

"Excuse me?" the chief examiner said.

"I said wait." Chen Chang Sheng's voice was calm, steady. "The assessment stones measure spiritual energy. That's true. But they also measure potential. And potential isn't always about power."

The examiner's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Three thousand Taoist texts," Chen Chang Sheng said. "I've memorized every one of them. I know the theory behind every cultivation technique in existence. I can explain the principles of the Nine Heavens Sword Technique, the mechanics of the Phoenix Rebirth Scripture, the hidden meanings in the Tao Te Ching that even the greatest scholars have missed."

"That's not cultivation," someone in the crowd shouted. "That's just memorization!"

"Is it?" Chen Chang Sheng turned to face the crowd. "What is cultivation, really? It's the practice of understanding the universe. Understanding the flow of energy, the patterns of creation, the hidden truths that govern existence. Spiritual power is just one way to access that understanding."

He turned back to the examiners. "You want to measure my potential? Then test me. Ask me anything. Any question about cultivation, about history, about the laws of the empire. If I can't answer, I'll leave quietly. But if I can—if I prove that knowledge is just as valuable as power—then let me continue."

The hall was silent. The examiners exchanged glances.

"This is unprecedented," one of them murmured.

"Unprecedented, perhaps. But also... interesting." The chief examiner stroked his beard. "Very well, Chen Chang Sheng. We will test your knowledge. Answer correctly, and we'll consider allowing you to proceed. Fail, and you're out."

"Agreed."

"First question: The Nine Heavens Sword Technique has thirty-three variations. Name them all."

Chen Chang Sheng didn't hesitate. "The variations are: The Slaying Dragon, The Phoenix Feather, The Crescent Moon, The Falling Star, The Morning Dew, The Evening Mist, The River Current, The Mountain Peak, The Ocean Wave, The Desert Sand, The Forest Wind, The Sky Thunder, The Earth Quake, The Fire Ember, The Water Drop, The Wood Sprout, The Metal Blade, The Shadow Step, The Light Flash, The Dark Veil, The Heaven's Eye, The Earth's Ear, The Soul Bind, The Heart Pierce, The Bone Break, The Blood Burn, The Spirit Rise, The Energy Flow, The Mind Calm, The Body Still, The Will Strong, The Fate Turned, and The Destiny Forged."

The examiner's jaw dropped. "That's... correct."

"Second question: The Phoenix Rebirth Scripture requires the practitioner to channel spiritual energy through seventy-two specific meridians. Name them in order."

Chen Chang Sheng launched into the answer immediately, rattling off the names with the ease of someone reciting a childhood rhyme.

"Third question: The Zhou Dynasty was founded on the fifth day of the fifth month in the Year of the Dragon. What were the names of the four generals who served under the first emperor?"

"General Zhou Xian, General Wang Yue, General Liu Chen, and General Zhang Hao."

"Fourth question: What is the penalty for theft in the Ministry of Records?"

"Death by slow slicing, followed by a public display of the body for three days."

The questioning continued. The examiners threw increasingly difficult questions at him, trying to find a weakness. But Chen Chang Sheng answered every single one without hesitation, his voice steady and his eyes focused.

Finally, the chief examiner held up his hand.

"Enough."

Chen Chang Sheng fell silent.

The chief examiner looked at his colleagues, then back at Chen Chang Sheng. A slow smile spread across his face.

"You have passed the first round," he announced.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

"What? That's not fair!"

"He didn't show any spiritual power!"

"This is a travesty!"

"Silence!" The chief examiner's voice thundered through the hall, amplified by his cultivation. "The Grand Examination is meant to find the best minds in the empire. Spiritual power is important, but it is not the only measure of worth. Chen Chang Sheng has proven that his knowledge is exceptional. He will proceed to the second round."

Chen Chang Sheng felt his knees weaken with relief. He had done it. Against all odds, he had passed.

He turned to walk back to his seat, but before he could take a step, a familiar voice cut through the commotion.

"Well done, country boy."

He looked up to see Xu You Rong standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

---

Xu You Rong walked through the hall like a goddess descending from the heavens.

The cultivators parted before her, bowing their heads in deference. Even the examiners straightened in their seats, their expressions shifting from authority to respect.

She was even more beautiful than Chen Chang Sheng remembered. Her hair was pulled back in an elaborate arrangement, held in place by a phoenix hairpin of gold and jade. Her robes were made of silk so fine that it seemed to glow with its own light. And her eyes—those cold, assessing eyes—were fixed on him.

"Xu You Rong," someone whispered. "What's she doing here?"

"I heard she was supposed to marry a prince. What's she doing talking to that nobody?"

Xu You Rong ignored the whispers. She walked up to Chen Chang Sheng and stopped, close enough that he could smell the faint fragrance of orchids on her skin.

"You've got more nerve than I thought," she said. "I'll give you that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb." Her voice was low, meant only for him. "That performance just now. You knew exactly what you were doing. You turned their own rules against them. That takes intelligence."

"Thank you?"

"Don't thank me yet." Her eyes hardened. "The second round will be combat. You won't be able to talk your way out of that one."

Chen Chang Sheng's heart sank. Combat. Of course. The Grand Examination wasn't just about knowledge. It was about proving yourself in every way—mental, physical, and spiritual.

"Are you trying to scare me?" he asked.

"I'm trying to warn you. I may not want to marry you, but I'd rather not see you killed." She reached into her robe and pulled out a small jade pendant. "Take this."

"What is it?"

"A protective charm. It will shield you from one attack—one strong enough to kill." She pressed it into his hand. "I'm not giving it to you out of kindness. I'm giving it to you because I want to see what you can do. Don't disappoint me."

And then she walked away, leaving Chen Chang Sheng standing in the middle of the hall with a jade pendant in his hand and a thousand questions in his mind.

---

The second round took place on the training grounds behind the Imperial Academy.

The arena was enormous, surrounded by stands filled with spectators. Officials, nobles, and common citizens had all gathered to watch the spectacle. The best cultivators in the empire would compete, and only the strongest would advance.

Chen Chang Sheng stood at the edge of the arena, watching the other candidates warm up. They moved with fluid grace, their spiritual energy crackling around them like lightning. Swords flashed. Fists flew. The air hummed with power.

He had no power. No cultivation. No combat training. He had spent nineteen years studying texts, not fighting.

*You're going to die*, a voice whispered in his mind. *What were you thinking?*

"Chen Chang Sheng," a voice called out. "You're up next."

He walked toward the arena, his heart pounding in his chest. The stands erupted in jeers and catcalls.

"The mountain boy is going to fight? This should be funny."

"I give him thirty seconds, max."

"Who's he facing?"

A figure stepped into the arena—a young man with broad shoulders and a cruel smile. He was tall, muscular, and radiating enough spiritual energy to make the air around him shimmer.

"Wu Feng," the announcer called out. "Eighth Stage of the Azure Thunder Realm."

"Eighth Stage!" someone in the crowd exclaimed. "He's practically a prodigy!"

Wu Feng grinned at Chen Chang Sheng. "I've been waiting for this. Do you know how much they're paying me to kill you?"

Chen Chang Sheng felt his blood run cold. "Who?"

"Does it matter? Dead is dead. And you're going to be very dead." Wu Feng drew his sword, and the blade crackled with lightning. "Any last words?"

Chen Chang Sheng thought about his master. About the golden dragon. About the curse that would kill him in less than a year. He thought about Xu You Rong, and Tang Thirty-Six, and all the people who believed in him.

*I've come too far to give up now*, he thought.

He drew his own sword—a simple, unremarkable blade that Tang Thirty-Six had given him. It wasn't spiritual. It wasn't special. But it was all he had.

"Begin!" the announcer shouted.

Wu Feng attacked.

He moved like a thunderbolt, his sword cutting through the air with the force of a hurricane. Chen Chang Sheng barely had time to raise his blade in defense. The impact sent shockwaves through his arm, and he stumbled backward, his vision blurring.

*He's too fast*, Chen Chang Sheng realized. *I can't keep up.*

But his master had taught him something important. Something that had saved him more than once.

*When you can't win through strength, win through strategy.*

Chen Chang Sheng began to retreat, circling the arena, trying to put distance between himself and his opponent. Wu Feng laughed and pursued him, clearly enjoying the chase.

"Running away? That's not going to save you."

"I'm not running," Chen Chang Sheng called back. "I'm positioning."

"Positioning for what?"

The arena floor was covered in a thin layer of sand—standard for training grounds. But Chen Chang Sheng had noticed something that no one else had. The sand was mixed with a fine powder, almost invisible to the n***d eye. Powder that, when disturbed, would create a cloud of dust.

Powder that would react to spiritual energy.

He led Wu Feng across the arena, past the patches of powder he'd identified. The cultivator followed, his attacks growing wilder, more reckless. He was so focused on killing Chen Chang Sheng that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.

"Time to die!" Wu Feng roared, charging forward with his sword raised.

But as he stepped onto the patch of powder, Chen Chang Sheng dropped to the ground and threw a handful of ordinary sand into his opponent's face.

It was a cheap trick. A dirty trick. And it worked perfectly.

Wu Feng blinked in surprise, his sword missing Chen Chang Sheng by inches. And in that moment of distraction, Chen Chang Sheng struck.

He didn't aim for a vital organ. He didn't try to wound. Instead, he aimed for the powder beneath Wu Feng's feet.

His sword hit the ground, and the powder exploded upward in a cloud of sparks and dust. The spiritual energy in the powder ignited, creating a blinding flash that sent Wu Feng staggering backward.

"What—how—" Wu Feng stumbled, his eyes wide with shock.

"Did you think cultivation was the only weapon?" Chen Chang Sheng asked. "Did you think you were invincible?"

He drew back his sword and drove it forward, not aiming for Wu Feng's flesh, but at the ground beneath him. The powder erupted again, and Wu Feng lost his footing, crashing to the ground.

The arena fell silent.

"Winner: Chen Chang Sheng!" the announcer called out.

The crowd erupted in chaos. Some cheered. Some shouted protests. But Chen Chang Sheng didn't hear any of it.

All he heard was the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest.

He had survived.

---

Tang Thirty-Six found him later that evening, sitting alone in the gardens of the villa.

"I can't believe it," Tang Thirty-Six said, collapsing onto the bench beside him. "You actually did it. You beat a cultivator from the Azure Thunder Realm. With sand."

"Lucky shot," Chen Chang Sheng muttered.

"Lucky? I've been watching matches for years, and I've never seen anyone win by making their opponent stand on a powder mine." Tang Thirty-Six grinned. "That wasn't luck. That was genius."

Chen Chang Sheng shook his head. "It won't work twice. They'll be ready for it next time."

"Next time is in three days. The third round is a group challenge. You'll have to work with a team to complete a task." Tang Thirty-Six's smile faded. "That's where it gets dangerous. Enemies can pretend to be allies."

"I know."

"Do you have anyone you can trust?"

Chen Chang Sheng thought for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Xu You Rong."

Tang Thirty-Six's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Xu You Rong? The woman who publicly announced she'd rather die than marry you? The one who's betrothed to a prince? That Xu You Rong?"

"She gave me this." Chen Chang Sheng pulled out the jade pendant. "She gave me a protective charm. She warned me about the assassination attempt. She believes in me, even if she won't admit it."

Tang Thirty-Six stared at the pendant, his expression shifting from shock to grudging respect. "Well, I'll be damned. You've got a gift, Chang Sheng. You make people want to help you."

"It's not a gift. It's just honesty."

"Same thing, really." Tang Thirty-Six stood up. "Get some rest. You've got a long road ahead."

Chen Chang Sheng looked up at the stars, thinking about everything that had happened. The golden dragon. His master's prophecy. Xu You Rong's cold eyes. The assassin's blade.

*I'm still alive*, he thought. *I have three more days. Three more days to prove myself. Three more days to reach the Holy Stone.*

*Three more days to change my fate.*