Mortal: Starting with the Seven Mysterious Sects, I proved my Dao through sacrifice.

Several days later, the morning light, carrying the unique crispness of the mountains, pierced through the year-round mist of the Rainbow Clouds Mountain Range and fell upon the layers of halls on Sunset Peak, the main peak of the Seven Mysteries Sect. Murong Fan slowly ascended the damp stone steps, each step steady and powerful.

Although his body, still recovering from serious injuries, felt somewhat empty, a warm and mellow internal energy was spontaneously circulating within his dantian, nourishing his once-broken meridians. This was not an ordinary recovery, but a transformative rebirth; with each breath, it felt as if new power was being generated deep within his bone marrow.

The disciple who had led the way bowed and withdrew before reaching a secluded courtyard surrounded by ancient pines near the mountaintop, his expression filled with reverence. There was no grand hall here, only a few simple houses with white walls and black tiles. This was the secluded cultivation chamber of Wang Juechu, the master of the Seven Mysteries Sect, a place that ordinary disciples would rarely see in their entire lives.

The door to the secret room was ajar. Murong Fan took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open to enter.

The interior was minimalist in its furnishings, with clean, dust-free bluestone paving the floor and a faint scent of sandalwood in the air. A tall figure dressed in a simple gray robe sat cross-legged. Even from behind, Murong Fan felt an invisible, timeless majesty and pressure, as if the weight of the entire Sunset Peak rested on his shoulders.

Murong Fan stepped forward, knelt down on the stone slab in the secret chamber, his forehead touching the ground, and said in a clear and respectful voice, "Disciple Murong Fan greets Master!"

Wang Juechu did not open his eyes immediately. After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes and got up. His eyes did not appear particularly sharp, but rather somewhat restrained and murky, like a calm well. However, when his gaze fell on Murong Fan, Murong Fan felt as if he had been seen through inside and out, with nowhere to hide, and even the deepest secrets in his heart seemed to be exposed.

"Get up." Wang Juechu's voice was calm, with a hint of indifference from someone who had long held a high position, and not much emotion. "You survived because your own fate was strong enough, and also because of the protection of our sect's founder."

He spoke slowly and deliberately, but his gaze remained fixed on Murong Fan, as if scrutinizing him carefully, or perhaps assessing something. "Come forward."

Murong Fan immediately stood up as instructed, took a few steps forward, and stopped a foot away from Wang Juechu, standing respectfully with his hands at his sides, his heart beating faster involuntarily.

Wang Juechu suddenly stretched out his right hand and pointed his index finger in the air. Although there was no howling wind or flashing light, Murong Fan felt a gentle yet overwhelming internal force coursing through his body, like a serpent burrowing into his limbs and bones, probing every inch of his meridians and every corner.

Although Murong Fan felt uneasy, he dared not resist in the slightest, and could only relax his mind and body, letting the internal energy flow freely. The probing only lasted for a few breaths. Wang Juechu withdrew his fingers, and a clear look of surprise finally flashed across his restrained eyes, which then transformed into a deeper expression, almost astonishment.

"Strange..." Wang Juechu muttered to himself, taking a small step forward and staring intently at Murong Fan, as if trying to get to know him all over again. "With such severe damage to your meridians and your dantian on the verge of shattering, it would be a miracle if an ordinary person could even survive. Yet you have managed to recover almost completely in such a short time and are becoming stronger every day."

He paused, a rare hint of emotion in his voice: "What's even more remarkable is that, having endured such a great calamity, you not only remained unharmed but seemed to have been tempered into something even more solid, your willpower far surpassing that of your peers. Murong Fan, do you know that such a situation of breaking down and rebuilding, of having a foundation stronger than before, is extremely rare? It's impossible to achieve without great perseverance and extraordinary opportunities."

He shook his head, scrutinizing Murong Fan as if looking at a rough jade that had already revealed its unparalleled brilliance: "Since I took charge of the Seven Mysteries Sect, I have seen quite a few geniuses, but none like you, who have forged a new path in dire straits and undergone a complete transformation... I have never seen anyone like you."

Wang Juechu's gaze fell upon the sea of ​​clouds outside the courtyard, his voice becoming distant and solemn: "You are not just a simple genius. You are an anomaly, a 'unparalleled talent' that appears only once in a century in the martial arts world. This aptitude, this temperament, this destiny... if you receive guidance from a wise master and diligently cultivate, your future achievements will be limitless."

The words "unparalleled talent" carried immense weight when uttered by the Seven Mysteries Sect Master, who had dominated Jingzhou for decades. Murong Fan was deeply moved. He knew he had recovered well, but he never expected to be so highly regarded in the Sect Master's eyes.

He quickly bowed: "Sect Master, you flatter me. I am deeply humbled. If it weren't for the Sect Master and the sect's all-out rescue efforts, I would have long since turned to dust. How could I have any spirit or character left? I will never forget this kindness and virtue!"

Wang Juechu withdrew his gaze and looked at Murong Fan again. The astonishment in his eyes slowly subsided, replaced by a thoughtful and decisive expression. He said slowly, "Kindness is kindness, and talent is talent. The sect saved you out of a sense of duty; but the potential you have shown concerns the future fortune of the Seven Mysteries Sect."

He paused briefly, seemingly considering his words, before finally speaking in a calm tone that conveyed an undeniable authority and solemnity: "Murong Fan, I once had three personal disciples. One died young, one traveled far away and never returned, and one... well, that's all."

He seemed reluctant to elaborate, then changed the subject, "The core secrets of our sect, the Seven Profound Inner Strength and the Sunset Sword Technique, require skilled successors. Ordinary disciples, even the elite of the inner sect, would find it difficult to bear their weight."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Juechu moved slightly, approaching Murong Fan like a ghost, his right palm whistling through the air as it aimed straight for his chest. Before the palm even arrived, a mountain-like pressure made Murong Fan's breath catch in his throat—this was not a full-force attack, but it contained three layers of transformation: deflection, seizure, and shockwave. It was the starting stance of the Seven Mysteries Sect's ultimate technique, the "Seven Absolute Sunset Palm."

Murong Fan's pupils contracted sharply, and the warm internal energy in his dantian instantly boiled. He touched the ground with his left toe and spun around, narrowly avoiding the palm strike. At the same time, his right palm transformed into a fist, aiming straight for Wang Juechu's ribs. The fist contained three variations, an instinctive reaction he had learned from his brush with death.

"Hmm?" Wang Juechu's palm technique suddenly changed, gripping Murong Fan's fist and wrist like a serpent. Murong Fan, however, did not panic. Instead, he reversed the order of Wang Juechu's moves, combined and improved them, using skill to overcome force, and tried to break free from the restraint.

"Well done! A decisive strike!" Wang Juechu shouted, his left hand forming a sword-like shape as he aimed at Murong Fan's brow. The finger strike was swift and fierce, but it stopped abruptly three inches before touching his brow. The secret room fell silent except for the heavy breathing of the two men. Cold sweat beaded on Murong Fan's forehead, and a chill ran down his back. Had that finger gone in even half an inch further, he would have been defeated on the spot.

Wang Juechu slowly released his grip, took a half step back, and for the first time showed a look of approval on his face: "To have such a quick response after recovering from serious injuries, to have mastered all the moves at a glance, and to know how to adapt flexibly, I really underestimated you before." Murong Fan bowed and said: "This disciple was fortunate to have gained some insights on the brink of death." He dared not mention the altar, and attributed everything to the near-death experience.

His gaze focused on Murong Fan's face: "Today, I ask you—are you willing to become my disciple, to be the last disciple of Wang Juechu, to inherit my mantle, and to shoulder the heavy responsibility of glorifying the Seven Mysteries Sect?"

"A closed-door disciple!"

Murong Fan's mind went blank. This meant that he would be the last direct disciple of Sect Master Wang Juechu, a position of immense prestige and resource allocation far exceeding that of ordinary inner disciples. It also signified that the Sect Master regarded him as the true successor of the sect!

This expectation is heavier than the previous life-saving grace.

He looked into Wang Juechu's eyes, which held a complex mix of emotions—concern, scrutiny, expectation, and a resolute air of entrusting him with a heavy responsibility.

In that instant, all the struggles of the past, the fear of near death, the joy of rebirth, and the uncertainty about the future seemed to be pressed down by that heavy gaze, settling into an unparalleled clarity of understanding.

Without hesitation or fear of this high expectation.

Murong Fan took a step back, lifted his robes again, and knelt on both knees. "Disciple Murong Fan is deeply grateful for the sect leader's favor, a debt I can hardly repay! This disciple is foolish, but possesses only a sincere heart and an unwavering desire for martial arts. Today, thanks to my esteemed master's acceptance of me as a disciple, Murong Fan is moved to tears!"

Wang Juechu watched quietly as he completed the three kowtows, his face expressionless, but a hint of icy coldness seemed to melt in the depths of his eyes. Having received the full ceremony, he stepped forward and gestured for him to rise, saying, "Get up. From this day forward, you are my last disciple, Wang Juechu's last disciple."

As Murong Fan stood up, Wang Juechu took out an object from his bosom. It was a palm-sized token, as smooth and warm as white jade, with the two characters "Seven Mysteries" engraved on the front surrounded by cloud patterns, and the character "Absolute" on the back, written in strong and powerful strokes.

"This is the 'Seven Profound Truth Transmission Token,' also my token. With this token, you may freely peruse the martial arts manuals on the first four floors of the sect's Scripture Pavilion, and all your necessities will be provided according to the standards of a personal instruction from the sect master." Wang Juechu solemnly placed the token in Murong Fan's hand. "Your injuries have just healed, and you still need to consolidate your foundation. Return to your original place to recuperate for now. Three days later, at Chen Shi (7-9 AM), come to this 'Secret Chamber.' I will impart to you the cultivation techniques and swordplay."

"Yes, Master!" Murong Fan took the token, which was still warm from his body, with both hands and held it tightly, as if he had grasped the turning point of his destiny and a heavy responsibility.

"Go." Wang Juechu waved his hand, resuming his previous posture of standing with his hands behind his back, his back lofty and imposing.

Murong Fan bowed deeply once more and left the secluded cultivation chamber.

The door to the secret chamber closed gently behind him. Murong Fan stood atop Sunset Peak, the mountain wind whipping through him, ruffling his simple clothes. The Seven Profound True Token in his hand was warm yet slightly cool, subtly resonating with the newly generated inner energy within his body.

Looking down at the Seven Mysteries Gate, with its layered mountains and continuous palaces, his state of mind had changed completely.

No longer the ordinary disciple who had to be careful and struggle to survive.

He is Murong Fan, a closed-door disciple of Wang Juechu, the master of the Seven Mysteries Sect.

The road ahead is long and arduous, the path of martial arts is perilous, and even within the sect, it is not a smooth road. But with this identity, with his master's expectations, and with the newborn, potentially powerful force within him, he knows that his path is already different.

He glanced one last time at the simple courtyard nestled among the pines, then turned and began his descent down the mountain. His steps were firm, each landing resounding, as he faced the rising sun and headed towards a brand new beginning.