Chapter Twenty-One: The Examination Grounds

“From now on, those whose names are called, please move to the left and stand in a single line,” announced a young woman about the same age as Bai Hanhai, as she picked up a bamboo scroll and began calling out names. “Zhao Zexi.”

“Present,” answered a young man near the front of the crowd, stepping forward to join the line.

“Chen Chulin,” she continued.

“Present,” another young man replied.

“Sui Ying’ai.” The moment the name was read, a wave of commotion swept through the crowd. Many of those who had followed along had not yet left, so it was unclear who was here for the assessment and who had merely accompanied friends. But this name was unmistakably feminine, and any girl who dared to come to such a place was bound to attract unusual gazes; everyone knew that girls who arrived here not only possessed great courage but were, by necessity, far more capable than most boys their age.

“Present!” The reply rang out crisp and powerful, instantly drawing every eye. There was a spirited energy and exceptional bearing about her, and Night Qianling felt this was someone worth befriending.

...

“Wu Ling.”

As her name was called, Night Qianling was still lost in her own world. Siyan, beside her, gave her a gentle nudge, not quite understanding what was happening. “Are you Wu Ling?” Siyan kindly reminded her, not wanting Night Qianling to be too embarrassed if he could help it.

Only then did Night Qianling suddenly snap back to reality, lifting her head. “Present.”

The voice was so soft that it would have been missed if one wasn’t listening closely.

What was happening? No one expected someone like this to participate in the dark guard assessment—a brutal, life-and-death trial. With such a weak voice, how could she hope to become a dark guard? The others nearby looked at her with disdain and confusion; their impression of this girl was not favorable.

Even Siyan was momentarily taken aback by the sound, his hand frozen in midair. Instinctively, he glanced over, and tears in his eyes glittered in the sunlight. This Night Qianling seemed nothing like the girl described in his investigation—something was missing. Ever since their first encounter, he sensed a burden weighed on Night Qianling’s heart, something she could not shake off.

Bai Hanhai, observing Night Qianling’s reaction from nearby, took a deep breath, his gaze filled with helpless sorrow. He knew Night Qianling was neither suited nor destined to be here. Her future seemed bleak, and he felt powerless.

He truly could not forgive himself. Even a moment of happiness was impossible. Whenever he had time to think, he remembered his mother had died because of him. How could such a thing ever be overcome? Even if the emperor said there was a chance to return, how could things ever go back to what they once were? Night Qianling did not know what meaning her efforts held; she was lost in these thoughts when her name was called. The pain of struggle, the sense of futility—when these warred with the faint hope in her heart, her voice naturally lacked any strength.

West Suburb South Court could not tolerate weakness; even answering in a soft voice left a poor impression on the trainers, but since this was an assessment, they said nothing, merely thinking to themselves that this girl would surely fail.

“Siyan.”

“Present,” came the deep, hoarse reply. Night Qianling raised her head to look at Siyan, her gaze vacant, as if trying to see through him.

Hearing Night Qianling’s dispirited tone, Siyan, though he knew what had brought her here, was disappointed. He had always preferred those who liked challenges, not those who were too timid or pessimistic. Thus, his impression of Night Qianling diminished. Seeing her staring at him, unblinking, clearly lost in thought, he ignored her, swept her with a glance, and moved to stand behind Night Qianling.

Bang! A figure moved swiftly; Night Qianling reacted instinctively, ready to defend herself, but the speed was overwhelming. She hadn’t even begun to move when, using the same method as Emperor Guangde, someone raised a foot and struck her. Her recently healed rib made a loud crack as the just-mended bone broke again.

Night Qianling had been daydreaming; these conflicting feelings of despair and challenge were nearly splitting her mind. The blow sent her flying, her body airborne before collapsing on the ground far away. Despite the pain, she made no sound. She remained in the position where she had fallen, her head bowed, gently biting her lip. Her airway felt blocked, and in one burst, a spray