When Sun Yi left his cultivation chamber, he headed straight for the Refining Hall. The once-crowded plaza was now quiet.

The disciples hadn’t lost interest; they had just migrated. Thanks to the “Open Dao Initiative,” copies of the refining manuals had been distributed to the newly constructed satellite pavilions. The candidates were meditating on the data rather than gossiping outside.

Inside the main hall, Elder Ye Luo was waiting. He spotted Sun Yi immediately and rushed over.

“Reporting to the Sect Leader,” Ye Luo said, falling into step beside him.

“Give me the numbers,” Sun Yi asked. “What’s our applicant pool look like?”

“We have 1,200 registered candidates,” Ye Luo replied, checking his ledger. “Zeal is high. The study halls are packed.”

Sun Yi nodded, satisfied. “We have three days until the launch. It’s time to finalize the testing protocols. Assemble the senior masters.”

Moments later, the original fifteen refiners—led by Elder Yan and Elder Tong—stood before Sun Yi. They were the veteran grandmasters of the hall, and they looked ready to set the bar high.

“Greetings, Sect Leader!”

“At ease,” Sun Yi said. “I called you here to design the Dao Trial. You are the subject matter experts. I know the logistics, but you know the craft. I need a test that filters out the opportunists but identifies genuine potential. We aren’t running a charity; if they want the high merit, they need to prove their value.”

“Understood,” Elder Yan said, his eyes gleaming. “We will ensure the standards are rigorous.”

They spent the entire day drafting the exam. It was a collaborative session, designing a mix of theoretical knowledge checks and practical stress tests. By evening, the syllabus was locked.

“Good work,” Sun Yi said, reviewing the final document. “Consulting fees for the day: 10 Points each. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“Thank you, Sect Leader!” The refiners beamed. Ten points for a day of discussion was basically free spirit stones.

The day of the exam arrived.

The plaza was once again a sea of robes, but the atmosphere was different. The excitement had been replaced by nervous tension. This was the trial of a lifetime.

When Sun Yi ascended the high platform, a hush fell over the crowd.

“Greetings, Sect Leader!” The chant was unison, respectful.

Sun Yi waved, projecting his voice. “You’ve read the decree. You know the stakes. I won’t waste time with a keynote speech. Let the Primary Certification Trial begin.”

At his signal, staff moved through the crowd, distributing jade slips. This was the written portion—a standardized test on material properties, thermal dynamics, and array theory.

The candidates pressed the slips to their foreheads, inscribing their answers directly via Divine Sense. It was silent, efficient, and brutal.

One hour later, the slips were collected. Sun Yi and his team of fifteen graded them on the spot, using their superior mental processing to scan the answers in seconds.

“Results are in,” Sun Yi announced.

The display board lit up. Out of 1,200 applicants, over 700 had passed.

A roar of triumph erupted from the successful candidates. They were now officially “Novice Refiners”—entry-level disciples with access to basic benefits. The losers hung their heads, the weight of a missed destiny crushing them.

“Order!” Sun Yi commanded. “To those who passed: Congratulations. You have your foot in the door. But if you want the real merit, you need to clear the next hurdle.”

He turned his gaze to the failures. “To those who didn’t make the cut: Shībài shì chénggōng zhī mǔ—failure is the mother of success. The path isn’t closed. Go back to the pavilion. Study. Reapply next season. The sect is always seeking talent, not luck.”

His words seemed to light a fire under the rejected disciples. They didn’t leave in shame; they left with determination.

“Now,” Sun Yi continued, checking the time. “Phase Two: The Rank 1 Practical.”

The 700 survivors were ushered into the testing grounds. The task was simple: Refine a standard Rank 1 spiritual artifact. Two attempts. Pass or fail.

The logistics were tricky—the facility couldn’t handle 700 furnaces at once—so they ran in batches. The spirit fires burned through the night.

By the next morning, the field had narrowed significantly. Only 200 candidates had successfully forged a viable artifact.

“Phase Three,” Sun Yi announced to the exhausted survivors. “Rank 2 Certification.”

Only twenty brave souls stepped forward for this one. It was a gamble—failure here might damage their confidence—but the reward was a stipend that rivaled a core disciple’s allowance.

Five passed.

Sun Yi stood on the platform, looking at his new workforce.

The Talent Pool:

Rank 2 Refiners: 7 (5 new + 2 veterans)

Rank 1 Refiners: ~200

Novice Refiners: ~700

It was a massive expansion. The Refining Hall had gone from a skeleton crew to a battalion overnight.

“Excellent work,” Sun Yi announced, his voice booming across the plaza. “For those watching from the sidelines: The Alchemy, Formation, and Talisman Halls will be hosting their own trials shortly. Prepare yourselves.”

He turned to his new army of engineers.

“Rank 1 and Rank 2 Refiners, report to the main forging grounds immediately. The orientation is over. We have a treasure to launch.”