The lingering chill of early spring hadn't yet dissipated, but the foot of the Black Iron Gang's mountain was already teeming with people. Sixteen-year-old Wen Buhuo stood among the crowd, his originally slender frame now well-proportioned and strong from two years of heavy labor. His eyes held a cold, discerning gaze beyond his years.
He watched the group of boys forming cliques in the distance, the one with the hooked nose leading them as they taunted several weak farm children. Wen Buhuo subtly took a half-step back, concealing himself behind Li Zhuang's broad shoulders.

He silently calculated: In this kind of unregulated trial, the worst thing to do was to stand out. Those who formed cliques seemed powerful, but they were the biggest targets and most likely to become the focus of attack. He whispered to the two beside him, "When we get into the forest, ignore everyone else. Survival is the priority, reaching the top is secondary."
With a clang of a gong, thousands of people rushed into the jungle like startled wild beasts. Zhang Xiaopang, like a slippery loach, used the agility he had gained from two months of working in the mines to quickly dart to the front of the pack, soon disappearing into the dense forest. Although Li Zhuang was incredibly strong, he seemed somewhat clumsy on the rugged mountain path. Before long, his breathing became heavy like an ox, and his steps gradually slowed.

"Buhuo... you go ahead... don't let me slow you down!" Li Zhuang wiped the sweat from his forehead, his voice hoarse.
Wen Buhuo didn't speak, but simply stretched out a hand and firmly grasped Li Zhuang's arm. He knew very well that in this dog-eat-dog gang, if he abandoned Li Zhuang now, Li Zhuang would likely be ambushed by those vicious competitors. His cool eyes scanned around, searching for the easiest footholds, calmly directing, "Don't talk, follow my steps, and regulate your breathing."
When they reached the cliff at the foot of the mountain, the sight before them shocked Wen Buhuo. Dozens of ropes hung from the cliff face, and the boys were pushing, shoving, and biting each other to grab the ropes. Some had even climbed halfway up the mountain only to be pulled down by those below. Screams echoed through the valley, and Wen Buhuo's brows furrowed. This bloody competition sent a chill down his spine, but he quickly calmed himself: going where the crowds were meant certain death; he absolutely couldn't join the fray.

He led Li Zhuang around to a secluded rock face hidden by thorns. Although there were no ready-made ropes here, the advantage was that there was no one to interfere. Using the climbing skills they had honed over the past year collecting herbs in the abandoned medicinal garden, the two slowly moved upwards.
Just as the summit was within a hundred paces, the group of thugs had already stationed themselves on the platform along the only path, grinning maliciously and kicking anyone who tried to reach the top. Wen Buhuo crouched in a crevice in the rocks, watching as time ticked by, the giant incense stick symbolizing the deadline burning down to its end.
Taking the usual route was impossible. Wen Buhuo's gaze fell on a crooked pine tree growing diagonally to their side. A broken vine hung from its branches, directly opposite a gap at the edge of the finish line. "Li Zhuang, do you see that vine? We'll swing across."
Li Zhuang glanced at the bottomless abyss behind him, his legs trembling with fear, but he looked at Wen Buhuo's determined, almost ruthless eyes, and finally nodded fiercely: "I'll follow your lead, Buhuo!"

The two leaped, tracing a breathtaking arc through the air. With a dull thud as their feet touched the ground, they actually landed on the open space at the finish line. However, before they could even stand firm, the last wisp of incense ash fell.
"Time's up, eliminated," the disciple in charge of timing announced expressionlessly.
Wen Buhuo's heart sank instantly. Two months of anticipation, the hope he had accumulated for Xiaoya, seemed to shatter at this moment. He lowered his head in frustration, his clenched fists trembling slightly. The deputy sect leader in the stands witnessed the jump and a hint of approval flashed in his eyes. He was about to make an exception when the sect leader, seated in the main seat, coldly interrupted: "Rules are rules. If they have such courage, they can come back next year. There's no need to break the ancestral rules."
Just as the two brothers were losing all hope, an old man carrying a basket of herbs and exuding the bitter scent of medicinal herbs spoke up leisurely: "Since the sect leader doesn't want them, these two lads can come back with me to the 'Medicine Hut' and work as apprentices."

This old man was known as Elder Yao, and he held a transcendent status in the area; even the sect leader had to show him some respect. Wen Buhuo was stunned. He looked at this old man with his ethereal demeanor and profound eyes, and suddenly realized that this might be a better turning point than entering the outer sect.
Thus, Zhang Xiaopang naturally donned the uniform of an outer disciple of the Xuan Tie Gang, while Wen Buhuo and Li Zhuang, carrying simple bundles, followed Elder Yao into the deeper, quieter mountain forest.