The Sen Clan’s Scripture Pavilion had nine floors in total.

To reach the different floors, one needed the corresponding authority and status. But beyond that, they also had to prove they possessed the required ability.

So, as Fang Yang prepared to ascend to the second floor of the Scripture Pavilion, a crowd of Sen clan disciples silently looked up to watch.

"There’s no rush. Just take your time,"

Sen Hui said softly. The staircase to the second floor looked long, but it wasn’t actually a major obstacle.

With every step upward, however, the pressure would intensify, as if an ancient, colossal mountain was pressing down.

These special barriers and trials were meant to keep the Sen clan disciples from overreaching, serving as a warning that they must remain grounded in all they do.

After all, if your aptitude and talent were lacking, you couldn’t comprehend a thing even if you were given a Venerable’s true inheritance. Instead, you would just become fodder for someone else’s growth.

"Let’s go." Fang Yang’s expression was calm.

He flicked the sleeve of his Daoist robe and ascended the high staircase with a powerful and confident stride.

BUZZ... As soon as he stepped onto the white jade steps, he immediately felt a heavy force on his shoulders, as if someone was forcefully pressing down.

Strangely, the heavy force seemed to adjust itself according to his cultivation level.

He had noticed earlier that the Tier Two and Tier Three cultivators of the Sen clan could walk up these long stairs with ease.

’First-timers often stumble a bit. I wonder if Fang Yang will make a fool of himself?’

The eyes of many young Sen clansmen glinted.

Sen Hui was the pearl of their clan. For Fang Yang to win her over so easily... it was impossible for them not to have some objections.

But Fang Yang was just too extraordinary. Not only did the clan elders approve of him, he was even favored by the old ancestors.

Thus, the current situation presented a possible chance to see Fang Yang embarrass himself.

Gradually, their faces lit up with joy and excitement, their expressions twisting into something almost pathologically gleeful.

But...

Fang Yang clasped his hands behind his back and moved forward at an unhurried pace.

Each step he took was as graceful as a blooming lotus. A crimson-purple light flowed across his Daoist robe, illuminating the staircase in a dazzling, brilliant glow.

As the crowd stared up at his back, they felt as if a terrifying, primeval beast had descended upon the world.

It was like a Carp Eagle, yet also like a Kun Peng!

HISS...

"That’s way too easy."

"I’ve long heard that Fang Yang is like a banished immortal, transcendent and detached from the mortal world. Seeing him today, I see it’s true."

"I don’t know how strong Fang Yang is, but he’s definitely a show-off—and incredibly handsome. Don’t tell me that’s why Sen Hui fell for him?"

"He can definitely reach the fourth floor, or even the fifth..."

Not only did Fang Yang not make a fool of himself, he instead displayed his divine might.

A scene like this was simply beyond what many of them had imagined.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t considered he might advance with ease, but they never expected him to do it in such a spectacular fashion.

"Ah Yang..."

Gazing at Fang Yang’s figure, Sen Hui’s eyelashes trembled, and ripples formed in her clear, limpid eyes.

Seeing this air of confidence and composure on Fang Yang again, a smile blossomed on Sen Hui’s face.

The reason she had paid attention to Fang Yang in the first place was that she had discovered a special Magic Power in him. Although it was very weak, it was similar to her older sister Sen Wei’s.

Now, that Magic Power was gradually growing stronger. This gave her a sudden sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, as it was something she had witnessed and helped nurture.

But as she grew closer to Fang Yang, she found herself inevitably falling for him completely.

...

Second floor, third floor, fourth floor, fifth floor.

Accompanied by Sen Hui, Fang Yang quietly immersed himself in his studies inside the Sen Clan’s Scripture Pavilion.

At first, some people thought he was just putting on a show.

But after he truly spent day after day in the Scripture Pavilion, completely unhurried, more and more people were gradually won over.

By now, Zhang Ye, Cyan Aura, and Hong Qishang, who had returned to their clans, had all accomplished great things, their reputations spreading far and wide.

And compared to them, Fang Yang was immeasurably stronger.

Yet Fang Yang truly managed to restrain himself. Unhurried and composed, he simply allowed his knowledge and experience to grow naturally.

It wasn’t just them; even Sen Wei and Sen Yue grew more and more pleased with Fang Yang the more they observed him.

One pulls back a fist only to strike with greater force.

Fang Yang’s choice to lie low and grow in silence during this time was clearly an extremely wise one.

’Life is finite, but knowledge is infinite. To use the finite to pursue the infinite is folly...’

Immersed in the vast sea of books, Fang Yang couldn’t help but have such a thought.

The Sen Clan’s Scripture Pavilion was vast—truly immense.

It contained the Secret Techniques and true inheritances of every imaginable school.

Reading through all of them was simply impossible. It would take at least a hundred years.

And that hundred-year estimate was with Fang Yang using all sorts of Magic to aid his studies.

Thus, Fang Yang wasn’t greedy. He didn’t try to bite off more than he could chew, nor did he delude himself into thinking he could master the entire collection.

The True Scriptures he chose to study were focused on a few specific areas: the Fire Dao School, the Thunder Dao School, the concepts of destruction and creation, the cycle of yin and yang, the principles of Tai Chi, and so on.

If Sen Hui hadn’t supervised him, he might not have ever touched the True Scriptures related to the Alchemist Doctors.

After studying these books, he even developed a scholarly and tranquil aura.

If he were to don a scholar’s green robe and hold a teaching ruler, no one would doubt him if he claimed to be a schoolteacher.

"Ah Yang."

Sen Hui blinked her limpid eyes and said hesitantly, "Somehow... I feel like you’re becoming a bit like my brother."

Hearing this, Fang Yang’s robe swayed slightly, and in an instant, a water mirror appeared before him.

In the water mirror, Fang Yang’s figure was tall and slender, his features refined, and his eyes as placid as an ancient pool.

He now wore a black and white Daoist robe, his hands clasped behind his back. His entire being radiated an elegant, detached aura—the very picture of an immortal.

Looking at his reflection, Fang Yang was momentarily lost in thought.

’So, I’m the same kind of person as Sen Yue...’

A moment later, Fang Yang pushed the stray thoughts from his mind.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "Brother Yue is a Young Venerable. I’m still a long way from his level. Don’t read too much into it."

"Is that so?" Sen Hui was a little uncertain.

It was just because the Fang Yang from a moment ago had made her feel a little intimidated, just as she was intimidated by her sister Sen Wei and her brother Sen Yue.

"What are you thinking about..." Fang Yang smiled, reaching out to gently take Sen Hui’s delicate hand.

Visibly, the hesitation in Sen Hui’s eyes quickly faded.

She returned to her usual lively self, beaming at Fang Yang.

Just then, the void before them rippled like water. Wisps of pure white scholarly energy emerged, coalescing into a cloud.

This cloud of scholarly energy drifted over to hover before Fang Yang and Sen Hui.

As they watched, the cloud dissipated to reveal its true form: a writing brush that bloomed with a soft, white light.

[Wenshan Pen]

As if by instinct, Fang Yang reached out with his other hand and gently took it.

In an instant, streams of information flowed into his mind.

The Wenshan Pen was a special Tier Four Elemental Artifact. It contained an abundance of scholarly energy. By holding it and writing, one could slightly channel the power of the heavens and the earth.

Even more peculiar, if one dipped the brush in the blood of a Fierce Beast and painted with it, they could perfectly capture the beast’s divine form. This allowed the wielder to experience the mysteries of the Painting Dao School.