I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

Half a month later, the Hehuan Sect's once-a-decade sect competition officially opened for registration.

Li Hanshan changed into the blue inner disciple uniform issued by the External Affairs Hall and arrived at the sect square. A long queue had already formed at the registration area. Various colored lights streaked across the sky above the square and landed. Disciples gathered in twos and threes, some talking in hushed tones, some nervously checking their magical artifacts, and a few who were clearly just there to watch the spectacle, standing at the edge of the square pointing and gesturing.

The registration area was located on the west side of the square, with several long tables lined up in a row. Jade slips and registration books were placed on the tables, and several deacons from the External Affairs Hall sat behind them, recording the names of the disciples who came to register. The line moved forward at a steady pace, advancing a section in about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea. Li Hanshan stood in the middle of the line, his expression calm and inconspicuous.

But the disciples ahead of him quickly noticed him. One of them turned around and glanced at him, then turned back to whisper something to his companion. The companion also turned around and glanced at him, his eyes filled with curiosity and scrutiny.

A moment later, although the conversation of the people in front was kept very low, Li Hanshan's Nascent Soul level divine sense still managed to catch a few scattered words.

"...That guy from the Northern Wilderness?" "Is that him?" "I don't see anything special about him." "They say he's from the sect leader's lineage..."

The murmurs didn't last long, and the line continued moving forward. When it was Li Hanshan's turn, the deacon in charge of registration looked up at him, his gaze lingering for a moment on Li Hanshan's now youthful face, before flipping through the register: "Name? Which peak and which hall?"

"Li Hanshan. Southern foothills."

The steward made a few notes in the booklet, then took out a jade slip and handed it to him: "Infuse it with spiritual energy to leave your cultivation information and spiritual energy imprint. The first round of the competition will begin in three days, and the pairings will be determined by drawing lots based on the information in this jade slip. If you have any questions, you can come to the External Affairs Hall at any time."

Li Hanshan took the jade slip, infused it with spiritual power, and left a mark on his divine sense before returning it to the steward. After verifying its accuracy, the steward handed him a bronze number plate: "Number 731. Gather at the square at Chenshi (7-9 AM) three days from now. Latecomers will be considered to have forfeited."

Li Hanshan took the number plate, turned around, and left the registration area.

He had only taken a few steps when he saw a familiar figure standing on the stone steps at the edge of the square. Chang Sheng stood with his arms crossed, a half-smile playing on his lips. His gaze lingered for a moment on the number plate in Li Hanshan's hand before shifting away. He didn't come over to speak; he simply stood there watching the direction Li Hanshan had left in, his gaze carrying a confident composure, as if he had already foreseen the unfolding of a game of chess.

Standing next to Chang Sheng was Wu Qingfeng. Wu Qingfeng's gaze was also fixed on Li Hanshan, a very faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. He whispered to Chang Sheng, "Junior Brother Chang, he really did sign up."

Chang Sheng nodded without saying anything more.

On the night registration closed, lights shone in Chen Jie's cave at the northern foot of the main peak. Chen Jie sat in the main seat, a cup of spiritual tea in his hand, his gaze fixed on a copy of the registration book spread out before him. Chang Sheng stood before him, his tone carrying a hint of boasting: "Senior Brother Chen, that old bastard did indeed register. I've already contacted several junior brothers at the late and peak Nascent Soul stages to ensure he encounters one of our people during the lottery."

Chen Jie put down his teacup and tapped his fingers twice on the registration book: "What future can a third-level Nascent Soul cultivator have? Since he's registered, let him make a good 'showcase' on the stage."

Chang Sheng nodded in understanding: "Junior brother understands."

Chen Jie waved his hand, and Chang Sheng bowed and left the cave. After the stone door closed, Chen Jie closed the roll of registration book, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest, and the smile on his lips never faded.

Three days later, at the sect square.

As soon as Chen Shi (7-9 AM) arrived, the square was already packed with people. Hundreds of disciples participating in the competition lined up in the center of the square according to their assigned numbers, with the Nascent Soul and Divine Transformation groups each occupying one side, separated by a low array of light. The steps, rooftops, and stone railings around the square were filled with disciples watching the spectacle, a dense, dark mass of people, their voices rising and falling in a cacophony of discussion.

Several elders sat on the high platform, including the Fifth Elder and the Ninth Elder, as well as a few faces that Li Hanshan was not familiar with. Ye Shuanghua, as the sect leader's personal disciple, also sat on the edge of the platform. Today, she wore that silver-white close-fitting outfit, her long hair was tied into a high ponytail, and the Jinghong Sword hung at her waist, making her look like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath.

An attendant ascended the platform, announced the start of the competition, and read out the rules. The Nascent Soul and Deity Transformation groups would draw lots separately for their matches. The Nascent Soul group's arena was set up on the east side of the plaza, while the Deity Transformation group's was on the west side. The results of the first round of draws were quickly announced, and Li Hanshan's name appeared on the first round's opponent list—his opponent was an inner disciple named Zhao Yan, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator.

The news spread quickly. "A late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator in the first round?" "That old man's luck is terrible!" "A third-stage Nascent Soul cultivator against a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator? Is there even a chance?" "I know Zhao Yan. He cultivates earth-based techniques; his defense is incredibly strong. Even a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator can't break him. What can a third-stage Nascent Soul old man do?"

Chang Sheng sat on the stone steps on the east side of the square, arms crossed, a satisfied smile on his lips. He turned to Wu Qingfeng beside him and whispered, "Zhao Yan is in the late Nascent Soul stage and cultivates earth-based techniques, making his defense extremely strong. Even if that old man has some skill, he can't break through Zhao Yan's defenses. As long as Zhao Yan holds his ground, we can slowly wear him down."

Wu Qingfeng nodded: "The difference between the third level of the Nascent Soul stage and the late stage of the Nascent Soul stage is too great."

Several matches have already begun on the arena. The pace of the Nascent Soul group's matches is much faster than that of the Deity Transformation group, but they still take several hours each time.

When it was Zhao Yan and Li Hanshan's turn, several days had passed, and the discussion in the square had noticeably grown louder.

Zhao Yan was the first to leap onto the arena. He was a burly man with a layer of earthy yellow spiritual light around him, clearly indicating that he had already activated his technique and pushed his defensive power to the limit.

Li Hanshan walked slowly and steadily up the steps to the arena. His aura was perfectly concealed, and he did not exude any pressure. He looked like an ordinary Nascent Soul early stage disciple.

Zhao Yan looked him up and down, then grinned and said, "Nascent Soul Level 3? With your cultivation level, you're just embarrassing your senior sister in the competition." Before he finished speaking, he had already moved, throwing a punch that carried a torrent of earth-yellow spiritual energy towards Li Hanshan's chest.

Li Hanshan didn't dodge. He raised his hand, and pure Yang fire silently condensed into a thin fire shield in his palm. Zhao Yan's fist slammed into the fire shield, producing a dull thud. The earthy yellow spiritual energy collided violently with the purplish-gold flames, sparks flying everywhere. Zhao Yan felt an extremely scorching recoil force surge back up his arm from his fist, his tiger's mouth went numb, and he was jolted back half a step. The smile on his face instantly froze. He looked down at his fist and found that the surface of his fist was already red and swollen, with fine burn marks at the edges.

Li Hanshan did not pursue, but stood still. The fire shield silently dissipated in his palm, like a wisp of mist blown away by the wind.

Zhao Yan gritted his teeth and activated his cultivation technique again. Earthy yellow spiritual energy condensed into a thick layer of armor around his body, like a moving stone fortress crashing towards Li Hanshan. His attack was even more ferocious than before, his fists and feet wrapped in heavy spiritual energy, each strike accompanied by a dull whistling sound. But Li Hanshan simply sidestepped, slid, and raised his hand, dodging each attack with minimal movement. Pure Yang fire danced between his fingers, leaving a charred mark with each collision with Zhao Yan's armor.

In a short while, Zhao Yan's earthen-yellow armor was covered with fine burn marks, like a stone wall repeatedly scorched, with cracks spreading outwards from the burn marks. Zhao Yan's breathing became rapid; his spiritual energy was being consumed far faster than he had expected. He wanted to create some distance to regroup, but found that Li Hanshan's footsteps were glued to within three feet of him, never giving him a chance to catch his breath.

Finally, Zhao Yan was forced to the edge of the arena. A fire shield struck his chest, knocking him off the stage. He crashed heavily onto the bluestone ground, his armor shattering, and a patch of his robe charred black. He struggled to stand up, only to find that most of his spiritual energy was in disarray, and his meridians were still burning hot, making it difficult even to circulate his cultivation techniques.

"Li Hanshan wins." The referee's voice rang out in the square.

The plaza fell silent for a moment, then erupted into an even louder clamor: "A third-level Nascent Soul cultivator defeated a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator?" "What kind of spell was that fire shield? How could it be so powerful?"

"Did you all see that? Zhao Yan's defense is considered strong even among late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators, yet it was breached?"

Chang Sheng sat on the stone steps, his smile completely gone. He stared at the figure descending from the arena, his gaze shifting uncertainly. Wu Qingfeng leaned closer: "Senior Brother Chang, something's not right. How could a third-level Nascent Soul cultivator so easily defeat a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator? Unless… he's hiding his cultivation level."

Chang Sheng was silent for a moment, then squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: "Keep sending people. If late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators aren't good enough, switch to peak-stage Nascent Soul cultivators. I don't believe he can hide any longer." He paused, then added, "Send Li Tong. He's at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage and cultivates fire-based techniques, which directly counter his Pure Yang Fire."

The results of the second round of draws were quickly announced, and Li Hanshan's opponent was changed to a Nascent Soul Peak cultivator named Li Tong. The news caused an even greater stir than the first round.

"Peak Nascent Soul cultivator versus third-level Nascent Soul cultivator? Isn't that bullying?" "That was a brilliant move; even the draw was so precise." "Do you think that old man can win?" "Peak Nascent Soul cultivators and late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators are not on the same level; he probably can't win, right?"

Li Tong was the first to leap onto the arena, his body wreathed in crimson flames, his spiritual energy surging steadily and intensely. He glanced at Li Hanshan, a cold smile playing on his lips: "I heard you're also a fire elementalist? Being able to defeat Zhao Yan at the third level of the Nascent Soul stage is indeed impressive, but—my fire is not the same as Zhao Yan's earth."

Li Hanshan remained silent, stepping onto the arena as pure Yang fire slowly condensed in his palm. This time, he didn't suppress it as much; the purplish-gold flames danced at his fingertips, radiating a temperature completely different from Li Tong's crimson flames—higher, purer, and carrying a subtle sense of suppression. The two clashed in the center of the arena, sparks flying, and ripples of spiritual energy exploded outwards visible to the naked eye.

After ten moves, Li Tong's flames began to become unstable under the continuous scorching of Li Hanshan's purplish-gold pure yang fire. His expression grew increasingly grim, and his spiritual energy was being consumed much faster than expected. He wanted to overwhelm Li Hanshan with his spiritual energy advantage, but he found that every time he circulated his spiritual energy, it was like pouring oil into a volcano; the pure yang fire used his flames as fuel, burning ever brighter.

Li Hanshan stepped forward, his fire shield transforming into a palm strike, which landed squarely on Li Tong's chest. Li Tong's protective aura shattered like paper under that palm strike, and he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the stone ground below the arena.

"Li Hanshan wins." The referee's voice rang out again.

Chang Sheng stood up, his face ashen, his eyes fixed on the figure walking off the stage, his fingers cracking from clenching them. Wu Qingfeng stood beside him, opening his mouth but saying nothing.