Chapter 43
Chapter 43: Monkey Pass Breakthrough, Part 1
Before reaching mid Qi Refining, cultivation was devoted to tempering the body. It was the foundation of the path; if the body could not bear it, then the spiritual power it could hold would always be limited.
During the probationary disciple period, lecturers in every academy repeated the same advice: prioritize cultivation itself. Do not chase side paths. Do not worship flashy techniques.
Only after entering mid Qi Refining could a disciple afford to divide their attention, refining techniques and honing battle skill.
Those who failed to reach mid Qi Refining within five years were often kept as menials. Such cultivators would struggle to advance further, and many compensated by training techniques more aggressively, simply to survive.
To help official disciples develop, the sect maintained several artificial danger grounds where they could practice under pressure. If someone carved their name onto the ranking boards there, rewards would follow.
The place Zhao Chun chose was Threefold Stone Forest.
It lay to the southeast of Secluded Valley. Legend said it had formed from a halberd-shaped treasure left behind by the founding Sect Master. Three layers of mountain barriers cut the forest into separate regions, and within them stone rose like pillars and fans—countless shapes, countless shadows.
The Ling Zhen Sect had also set an illusion formation over the place. Any disciple who entered would be attacked by monkey shadows.
That was why people called it Monkey Pass.
The terrain was vicious, the shadows treacherous, and Threefold Stone Forest became a favored training ground for movement and offense. Zhao Chun was searching for that moment when her body could move with her intent; naturally, this was where she came.
The moment she stepped into the danger ground, it felt as if she had left Secluded Valley entirely. The Ling Zhen Sect’s elegant mountains and waters vanished without a trace.
Heavy gray fog layered thickly over itself, and the rock formations seemed to shift—sometimes near, sometimes far—like a landscape breathing in and out.
The entrance was narrow, no more than a palm’s width from a distance. On the cliff face above it, a small pavilion jutted out, seemingly suspended in midair. A guarding disciple stood watch there.
Beside the pavilion, on a sheer rock wall, four large characters had been painted in bold red strokes: Killing Run Trial and Forest-Piercing Trial. Beneath each heading were two smaller lines of text, detailing the rules.
Zhao Chun looked up and found herself amused. The gatehouse was built so high and precarious that without solid movement techniques, climbing up would be difficult. It likely stopped many people before they ever reached the actual trial.
She combined her swift movement method with Serpent-Form Step and shot upward. In only a few breaths, she had reached the pavilion.
The guard inside had been distracted for an instant and only saw something flash past his eyes—a tiny black blur, gone before he could focus. When it steadied, he realized it was a person: small, neat, dressed plainly, like some skinny child who had flown in on the wind.
Only after Zhao Chun stepped inside did she realize how cramped the pavilion truly was. There was barely space to stand. Aside from her, it was empty—quiet to the point of bleakness.
“It’s just you here?” she asked.
The male disciple snapped out of his daze and nodded, his expression dull. “Here for a trial? Hand over your identity token, then pay 20 Cui Stones.”
Twenty?
Zhao Chun clicked her tongue. That price was brutal.
She handed over her token and asked, “No one comes here?”
The guard took the token, glanced down—and his eyes widened. Inner Sect.
Hearing her question, he immediately started talking. “People come, just not many.
“I heard from the Senior Brothers who used to stand guard that this place used to be crowded. These days there’s some new place people go instead, so fewer come here. And when someone does show up, the moment they hear it’s 20 Cui Stones, they curse us for overcharging and run off. As if we have the authority to set the price. We’re the ones doing the work, and we still get yelled at. Without a little profit to make it worthwhile, who would even stay?”
Zhao Chun couldn’t deny it. “It is expensive. A normal Outer Sect disciple gets 60 Cui Stones a month. Even if they save every coin, they still couldn’t come more than a few times.”
“Expensive or not, it’s honest business,” he insisted, instantly defensive. His tone shifted into the practiced patter of a marketplace hawker. “This danger ground formed from Patriarch’s treasure. Even the formation was set by the founding elders. The Cui Stones spent on repairs every year are in the tens of thousands. We charge 20, and people act like the sect is robbing them. It’s a drop in the bucket. Trading that for a chance at a breakthrough—how could it not be worth it?”
Zhao Chun understood perfectly well. A “great chance” did exist, but only if you were willing to run the trial dozens, hundreds, even thousands of times. Twenty Cui Stones each time added up fast.
For most Outer Sect disciples, unless they stumbled into a rare stroke of luck, it was an impossible expense.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “This ‘new place’ you mentioned—what is it?”
The guard hesitated, suddenly wary of saying too much. He clearly feared she would turn around and leave. Only after Zhao Chun assured him she had come for Monkey Pass itself did he finally explain.
The Outer Sect held countless disciples, each with different strengths. Some specialized as spell cultivators; others excelled in movement and combat. Those with particular skill in a path would open private lecture halls, charging fees to teach their techniques and tricks.
Zhao Chun listened, nodding. It sounded uncomfortably like the tutoring schools of her old life.
But training like that was no different from walking someone else’s road. Follow too closely, and you would forever remain in another person’s shadow.
Techniques were meant to become one’s own. Without personal insight and breakthrough, how could they truly be driven at will? How could she ever command Ru Yi the way she needed to?
“If this continues,” Zhao Chun said slowly, “disciples will end up copying patterns instead of improving. Does the sect really not manage it?”
The guard sighed. “Before… maybe they did. Or tried. But in the last 20 years it’s only grown more popular. I haven’t seen the sect object at all.”
Zhao Chun frowned. There were aspects of the Ling Zhen Sect that still made her uneasy in ways she couldn’t quite name.
After a moment, she produced 20 Cui Stones. “Record me for one run first. We’ll talk after I come out.”
“Great!” The guard snatched the stones with a grin. “You’re sharp. You know what actually benefits cultivation.”
As he wrote her name down, he kept talking—this time about Monkey Pass itself.
The three layers of barriers carved the forest into two long gauntlets, each 10 li in length. The first was relatively gentle, suited to mid Qi Refining Stage disciples. The second was far harsher; he advised entering it only after reaching late Qi Refining.
As for the two ranking boards—Killing Run Trial and Forest-Piercing Trial—they represented different methods of measurement.
Forest-Piercing Trial recorded the shortest time it took to rush through the 10-li gauntlet.
Killing Run Trial measured how many monkey shadows a disciple could destroy within the time it took a single incense stick to burn.
Each board was split into mid and late Qi Refining columns; results were not mixed between them.
When he got to rewards, the guard leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Each board holds 100 names. Places 11 through 100 get 500 Cui Stones. Tenth place gets 1,000. Above that, every rank higher adds another 1,000.”
Zhao Chun couldn’t help being impressed. For a Qi Refining Stage disciple, those sums were enormous.
She studied the guard’s sly expression and asked, “And it’s not as easy as it sounds.”
He laughed awkwardly. “Not even close. These boards have been here since the sect was founded—over 2,000 years. Geniuses from every generation have filled them up. For later disciples, getting on is incredibly hard. Plenty come to try out of stubborn pride, and most just end up donating their Cui Stones to the sect. After a while, fewer and fewer people dared to bother.”
He eyed her, testing. “But you’re fast. You’ll make the board for sure. Even if you don’t manage it the first time, just try more. Once you’re on, you’ll earn it all back.”
Zhao Chun didn’t answer. She wasn’t here to get rich. She was here for one thing—and the breakthrough mattered far more than any payout.