Chapter 372: Rank Assessment

After arranging his lodgings, Mo Hua, accompanied by Mo Shan, strolled around the Outer Mountain of the Cangyun Sect.

At first, he found it fascinating—Cangyun Sect was vast, with countless things to see. But after circling the area a few times, the novelty wore off. Every mountain and stream, every pavilion and terrace felt more or less the same. There wasn’t much left to explore.

So, Mo Hua returned to his room to review formation arts in peace.

However, ordinary first-grade formations were far too simple—there wasn’t much to review.

He could only redraw the Spirit-Reversal Formation a few times and revise the core node of the Five Elements Demon-Slaughter Grand Formation.

When mealtime came, he went to “borrow” a meal at the Cangyun Sect’s dining hall.

The formation master assessment was overseen by the Dao Court’s Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, and administered by Cangyun Sect itself.

Cangyun Sect treated the matter with the utmost importance—no room for carelessness.

Any slight negligence would not only be seen as disrespect toward the Dao Court and risk punishment from the Dao Court Division, but also offend the formation masters taking the exam, damaging the sect’s reputation among them.

Those qualified to participate in the rank assessment were all “quasi first-grade” formation masters. Cangyun Sect dared not be even slightly negligent.

Thus, every detail—from food to lodging—was arranged with care. The accommodations were spacious, and the food was plentiful.

Mo Hua got to try many kinds of spirit beast meat he’d never eaten before.

The texture of spirit meat was indeed tender, without any trace of gaminess, and suffused with spiritual energy. After refining it in his Qi Sea, his spiritual power even grew slightly.

The flavor, however, was mediocre—it was so saturated with spiritual essence that it almost felt like “chewing on spirit stones.” Far from the taste of his mother’s cooking.

Still, Mo Hua wasn’t a picky eater.

And given how valuable spirit meat was, he naturally ate a bit more.

He lived well, ate well, and the disciples of Cangyun Sect were all respectful and polite. He encountered no trouble.

Two days passed peacefully, and then came the official Rank Assessment.

The exam took place in the Hall of Worthy Inquiry atop Cangyun Sect’s main peak.

The hall was vast and imposing, solemn yet majestic, with dozens of desks arranged neatly inside.

Each desk was made of redwood, broad and sturdy, carved with cloud-beast motifs, exuding a faint sheen—clearly valuable.

Formations surrounded each desk, isolating Divine-Sense, sound, and sight.

Any irregular movement from a candidate would trigger a formation alarm, leading to immediate expulsion and disqualification.

Mo Hua presented his jade token to the examiner, entered the hall, found his seat, and sat quietly. The solemn atmosphere made him a little nervous.

But when he looked around, that nervousness vanished.

Mister Zhuang had been right—most of the examinees were elderly formation masters with white hair, while even the middle-aged cultivators showed strands of gray.

Mo Hua thought to himself:

“These uncles and grandpas have studied formations their whole lives and still fail the exam time after time. I’m still young—even if I don’t pass, it’s no big deal.”

With that thought, his heart completely relaxed.

Then he realized everyone seemed to be… secretly watching him.

It began with the examiner at the door.

The man’s hair was half-white, his face stern and rigid.

He wore a white Dao robe with the seven-star constellation embroidered on the chest.

The stars formed the shape of the Big Dipper—six were dim, only the foremost, the Heavenly Pivot Star, shone brightly with gentle starlight.

This marked him as a cultivator of the Dao Court’s Heavenly Pivot Pavilion—the chief examiner for formation rank assessments.

When Mo Hua handed over his jade token, he clearly saw the examiner’s stunned expression.

The man stared at the token, then at Mo Hua, for a long while before nodding slowly and allowing him to enter.

Once Mo Hua walked into the hall, he noticed that everyone—openly or covertly—was watching him.

They stared as he entered, as he walked down the aisle, as he reached his desk and sat down calmly.

A soft wave of gasps spread through the room.

Realization dawned: this ten-something-year-old boy really was here for a rank assessment!

A first-grade formation master rank assessment, no less!

The hall fell into awkward silence—everyone exchanged glances, unsure what to say.

Even though Mo Hua had seen grand formations collapse before, under these gazes filled with shock, envy, and curiosity, he still felt a twinge of discomfort and embarrassment.

Fortunately, half an hour later, all examinees arrived and the exam was about to begin. No one kept staring at him anymore, and Mo Hua finally relaxed.

Moments later, the bell of Cangyun Sect tolled.

The room fell completely silent.

The examiner surveyed the hall and solemnly declared:

“Dao Court Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, Second Rank—Black Mountain Prefecture, Cangyun Sect’s Hall of Worthy Inquiry. The First-Grade Formation Master Rank Assessment, officially begins!”

He then raised a gold-and-jade inlaid iron box and said solemnly:

“Before you all, I will now unlock the formation sealing the exam questions.”

He manipulated several miniature formation disks—light flared, the runes on the box gleamed, and the golden inlays fell away as the formation was broken.

This was a single-use seal—once opened, it could never be restored, ensuring no one could tamper with or leak the questions in advance.

The examiner opened the box, displaying it to everyone.

Inside were dozens of jade slips, each containing the examination topics.

Assistants distributed them to each participant, along with Dao Court–issued formation pens, papers, spirit ink, and inkstones.

Everything was tightly controlled to prevent cheating.

Then, the assessment began.

Mo Hua glanced at his jade slip.

The exam had two sections: one theoretical, one practical.

The theory portion tested formation principles—types, origins, historical schools, rune interactions, and so on.

Mo Hua wasn’t the best at theory—but compared to heirs of great formation clans like Bai Zixi, that was only natural. Having studied under Mister Zhuang, he was already quite familiar with such first-grade topics.

The second section was the practical one—formation drawing.

Mo Hua read the assigned formations and instantly felt relieved.

First-Grade Molten Fire Array, First-Grade Golden Light Array, First-Grade Water Prison Array…

All of them belonged to the Five Elements category—formations Mo Hua had drawn countless times.

After all, the Five Elements Demon-Slaughter Grand Formation encompassed almost every trapping, killing, and architectural formation of the Five Elements path.

Since he had personally constructed it, even drawing its core nodes, these simpler single formations were child’s play.

Still, Mo Hua remembered his father’s teaching: “Even a lion uses all its strength to hunt a rabbit.”

The simpler the task, the less one should underestimate it.

He first finished the theory section, then began to draw his formations carefully.

But honestly—even drawing carefully, these ordinary nine-rune first-grade formations posed no challenge.

At first, he was meticulous, drawing stroke by stroke.

Then, habit took over—his brush danced like a dragon, gliding swiftly across the paper.

Before long, he was done.

He froze.

“I think… I just finished the exam?”

He glanced around. Although the isolating formations blocked visibility, he could vaguely see that most others had only just finished the theory section and were now grimly preparing to draw.

But he was completely done.

He checked everything again—there was nothing to check.

First-grade formations were transparent to his eyes; a single glance was enough.

He thought about doodling some other formations for fun, but there was no spare paper.

Then he realized—he had nothing left to do.

Should he submit early?

After a moment’s thought, he shook his head.

That would be too ostentatious—and disrespectful to the First-Grade Formation Master Rank Assessment.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

At his age, taking the exam was already high-profile enough. Better to stay low-key.

“I’ll hand in my paper when everyone else does.”

Decision made, he sat quietly again.

But before long, boredom crept in.

The exam allowed a full day—he’d once thought that was generous, now it felt too generous.

He couldn’t just sit there for a whole day doing nothing!

Utterly bored and with no ink or paper left, he began tracing idle rune patterns on the desk’s polished surface with his finger.

But it was still terribly dull…

Eventually, cheek pressed to the desk, Mo Hua’s eyelids drooped—and he drifted off to sleep.

His breathing was soft and gentle.

But before long, the examiner noticed.

The man’s face darkened, and he silently repeated the name on the jade token:

“Tōngxiān City… Mo Hua!”

He had been paying attention to this child since the moment he entered.

What kind of ten-year-old takes part in a rank assessment?

How powerful must his backing be? How many strings were pulled for this?

He had assumed the boy was recommended by some influential clan or sect—and had planned to revoke that group’s recommendation rights for fifty years.

But to his astonishment, the child had been nominated directly by the Dao Court Division itself!

To bribe the Dao Court Division? How much did that cost?

Corruption during rank assessments wasn’t unheard of—the Dao Court often turned a blind eye.

But this was too much.

Letting a child take the exam? Did they think everyone else here was blind?

This is the First-Grade Formation Master assessment!

The examiner seethed in silent fury.

He didn’t reprimand the boy immediately, fearing to disrupt others’ exams.

Still, he couldn’t help but observe him from the high platform where he supervised the hall.

From up there, every movement was visible—including Mo Hua’s.

At first, the boy wrote seriously, answering the theory carefully.

But before long—whether he finished or gave up—he set it aside and began to draw.

He drew properly at first, but soon… his true nature showed.

A single glance at the reference diagram, then his brush began to flow wildly—random, carefree strokes, as if he were doodling for fun.

He burned through all the formation paper quickly.

Then, with nothing left to do, he slouched over the desk and began tracing aimlessly with his fingers… until finally—

He fell asleep.

Asleep!

The examiner’s eyelid twitched violently, his face turning an iron shade of blue.

Unbelievable!

Disrespecting the Dao Court, the art of formations, and this examination! And ignoring me, the chief examiner, entirely!

He looked down at Mo Hua again, ready to explode—yet seeing the boy sleeping peacefully, with such innocent serenity, his anger softened into a sigh.

“He’s just a child… what could he possibly understand?”

Then his gaze hardened once more.

Clearly, this wasn’t the boy’s doing—it was the scheme of the clan or sect behind him, bribing the Dao Court Division to push him into this exam far too early.

The poor child probably didn’t even know what was happening—unable to answer the questions, unable to draw the formations, so he simply… fell asleep.

The examiner sighed deeply in his heart.

“Let him sleep. I’ll deal with this afterward.”

And so, during the entire First-Grade Formation Master Rank Assessment, Mo Hua peacefully slept on his desk from start to finish.

(End of Chapter)