004. The Heavenly Stairway has opened—climb!

Yan Yan, also known as Ziyou, moved his hands in the air as if plucking invisible strings. Immediately, a resounding tone, like the harmonious clash of metal and jade, echoed forth. This wave of sound did not scatter to all directions but was gathered into a single beam, shooting straight toward the foot of the mountain. The moment this sound reached the base, his figure appeared there as well.

This was the legendary "Resounding Metal, Ringing Jade"—a technique that allowed one to traverse the void with music. Such supernatural prowess belonged only to those who had attained the highest mastery in the Way of Music.

At this moment, a great crowd had already gathered at the foot of the mountain. As for the entrance trial—the Contest of Contention—it had long since been set aside. After all, what was the trial compared to ascending the Celestial Staircase? Such an event had not occurred in many years.

Thus, everyone, driven by curiosity, followed Wang Yu down to the mountain’s base. The area bustled with excitement, and countless students whispered among themselves.

Some said Wang Yu did not know his own limits and would end up a fool. Others accused him of seeking attention, ready to throw everything away in desperation. Yet there were those who admired Wang Yu’s courage; whatever his reasons, daring to challenge the Celestial Staircase marked him as a true hero, a man of great valor.

This was the chaotic scene that greeted Ziyou as he arrived at the foot of the mountain. His brows furrowed, and he called out softly, “Silence!”

His voice was not loud, but it carried weight and authority, spreading in all directions. All who heard it felt as if someone were reciting the rules and rites by their ear, involuntarily straightening up in respect.

The crowd quieted instantly. All present now realized that the headmaster had arrived. At once, they bowed deeply. “Greetings, Headmaster.”

There were thousands assembled at the foot of Mount Tai—not only outer disciples, but also others, students and teachers alike, who had heard of someone attempting the Celestial Staircase and hastened to witness the event.

Thousands raised their voices in a resounding chorus, shaking the clouds, quelling the rivers, and making the very void tremble. Wang Yu could not help but feel envious at the grand display—the headmaster truly lived up to his title.

He wondered when he too might command such awe and respect.

Clad in heavy ceremonial robes, Ziyou stood even more imposing in the midst of this multitude. With a gentle flick of his sleeve, he intoned, “Rise.” His voice carried across the fields, and all present straightened.

He turned directly to Zhu Bingli. “Bingli, who is it that wishes to ascend the Celestial Staircase?”

Zhu Bingli pointed to Wang Yu. “Teacher, it is this man.”

Ziyou’s gaze fell on Wang Yu. With just a glance, Wang Yu felt as though he had been stripped bare—body and soul—nothing hidden from those discerning eyes. He felt as transparent as glass, with no secrets before this man.

Ziyou’s cultivation was profound; it took but a moment to see Wang Yu had not even set foot on the path. He had not cultivated the least bit of Scholarly Qi; he was, unmistakably, an outer disciple.

In the path of the Confucians, cultivation was all about Scholarly Qi. One imprinted principle upon the Way, from the Way generated energy, and with energy carried the Way forward. Without Scholarly Qi, one was no vessel for the Way—a worthless seed in their eyes, unworthy of nurturing.

Someone like this wants to climb the Celestial Staircase?

Just another gambler seeking a shortcut, Ziyou thought, and inwardly passed sentence on Wang Yu, seeing no need to spare him another glance. Yet, with his status and breadth of mind, he would not stoop to quarreling with Wang Yu, nor would he go out of his way to make things difficult.

If Wang Yu wished to climb, let him climb.

Should he succeed, the rules dictated he would be accepted as a formal disciple and enter the Hall of the Elite, enjoying all due privileges. But that would be the extent of it. One should not think that entering the Hall of the Elite guaranteed greatness; how many have entered, and how few have become true sages? The Hall merely offered a better stage—all else depended on oneself.

All the better, Ziyou thought. Even if he did not meet the fate of a fool, as the rules required, Wang Yu would be expelled if he failed.

Wang Yu could feel the indifference in Ziyou’s gaze, but he cared little for it. He was not climbing the Celestial Staircase to win the Confucian sect’s approval; he wished to vindicate Tao Yuan, to prove that Tao Yuan had not abused his authority.

Thus, his heart was calm. If you look down on me today, one day I will rise above your reach.

Ziyou turned to Zhu Bingli. “Since someone wishes to climb the Celestial Staircase, let us proceed according to the rules. Take my Mountains and Rivers Ruler and activate the staircase.”

Zhu Bingli glanced at Wang Yu, accepted the ruler, and made his way to the Celestial Staircase Pavilion.

The Pavilion was, of course, guarded. Its warden was also a master—an old man with white hair and beard, his body hunched, eyes clouded, showing no sign of a master’s grandeur. No one knew his origins, only that since the creation of the Celestial Staircase, he had always been its guardian. Some said he had been appointed by the Patriarch himself. So, though he appeared to be a withered old man, not one dared to look down upon him.

At that moment, the old man lay basking in the sun on a bamboo chair, his eyes half open, half closed, utterly at ease, unperturbed by the thousands gathered before him.

Zhu Bingli came before him and bowed respectfully. “Elder Ji, a student desires to climb the Celestial Staircase. Would you kindly open it?”

Only then did the old man slowly open his eyes, as if waking from a pleasant dream. He glanced at Zhu Bingli and spoke, “So, which reckless youth wishes to challenge the Celestial Staircase? Come, let this old man have a look.”

Zhu Bingli turned to Wang Yu. “Wang Yu, come forward and let Elder Ji see you.”

Wang Yu grumbled inwardly—what’s there to see? It’s not as if I’m a beautiful woman. Yet, despite his annoyance, he stepped forward and stood calmly before the old man.

Elder Ji scrutinized Wang Yu with his clouded eyes, then chuckled. “Interesting, interesting—so you’re a fool who hasn’t even cultivated Scholarly Qi. You must have no fear of death.”

Wang Yu smiled slightly. “Is it not said that until the outcome is known, all things are possible under heaven?”

What did he mean? That until the result is decided, anything might happen. In other words, perhaps it is precisely someone with no Scholarly Qi who will defy all odds and ascend the Celestial Staircase.

The old man could not help but look Wang Yu over again and nodded. “Young people must have such spirit. Not bad.”

Taking the Mountains and Rivers Ruler, the old man swung it toward the cliff wall beside the Pavilion. A surge of purple energy shot out from the ruler, swelling to a hundred yards in length and crashing against the mountainside. With a thunderous roar, as if Pangu split the heavens or Yu the Great parted the mountains, the cliff split open with wild force, revealing a stairway that reached into the clouds.

Having parted the cliff, the old man seemed greatly spent, taking a few deep breaths before reclining once more in his bamboo chair. “Young man, confidence is a fine trait, but without strength, it is mere arrogance. Before you stands the Celestial Staircase—let it judge whether you are confident or simply conceited.”