For the next few days, Yun Che endured in the cold cave, relying on the meager water that seeped from the rock walls to quench his thirst and feeding off the birds that were dragged in and killed by the mysterious force. Most of the time, he focused on studying the grayish-white stone bead, patiently collecting the strange "dew" that oozed from its surface daily and carefully applying it to his injured right arm. The dew, which was cool and healing, proved remarkably effective. Within three or four days, the swelling in his right arm had completely subsided, and he could move it freely; even the old scars had faded significantly.

  He treated the life-saving dew like a treasure, carefully storing it in a large bird skull he'd found.

  One day, feeling much better, Yun Che decided not to wait idly anymore. He used the dew he had gathered over the days and evenly applied it to a clean strip of cloth torn from his undergarments. After wrapping the stone bead in it and tying a secure knot, he hung it around his neck, tugging on it to ensure it was firmly in place.

  Taking advantage of the half-hour interval between the bursts of the mysterious suction force, he approached the cave entrance, took a deep breath, and tore his ragged clothes into strips. He twisted them into a crude rope, securely tying one end to a sturdy rock at the cave entrance and fastening the other end to his waist. He looked down; the cliff was steep, and clouds swirled below.

  There was no turning back. With a firm bite of his teeth, he grabbed the cloth rope tightly, turned his back to the abyss, and began to carefully climb downward.

  The rock face was slippery, covered with moss, and nearly impossible to grip. He relied on the cloth rope for support, finding footholds on small protrusions as he made slow progress. About five or six yards down, the rock corner he had been holding onto suddenly came loose!

  "Damn it!"

  He lost his balance and began to plummet. The cloth rope tied around his waist snapped taut with a loud creak, slowing his fall, but he slammed violently into the cliffside, his vision blacking out as his organs felt like they shifted. The cloth rope, already frayed from the rough rock, began to tear!

  In the nick of time, he managed to stifle the pain, his eyes scanning frantically. His right hand shot out and gripped a thin, but solid, tree branch that jutted out from the rock face. Just as the top half of the cloth rope snapped entirely, only the remaining lower half flailed helplessly in the air.

  Yun Che’s forehead was drenched in sweat as he hung from the branch, breathing heavily. Looking down, he saw that he was still about twenty yards above the dense forest below. Not wasting any time, he used one hand to hold tightly to the branch, while the other worked to untie the broken rope, re-tying it around the branch. Only then did he let out a small sigh of relief.

  After resting for a while, he continued his perilous descent, looking for any potential footholds. Only a few yards remained before he reached the bottom, but his makeshift rope had been exhausted. Below, he saw a thick canopy of trees.

  There was no time to hesitate. He spotted a large tree branch below, shut his eyes, and leaped off the cliff.

  "Crack! Crack! Crack!"

  He passed through layers of branches, their snapping sounds filled the air, slightly slowing his fall. As he hit the ground, he desperately tried to adjust his posture. His feet landed first, and he tumbled forward, using his shoulders and back to absorb the impact.

  Even so, the force of the fall was so intense that he felt like his entire body was being shattered. Sharp stones and broken branches on the ground cut into him, tearing deep gashes across his body, and blood began to pour out. The worst injury was to his right leg, where a sharp rock shard had pierced deep into his calf muscle, sending a searing pain through his body. He could even see a flash of white – his own bone!

  "Ugh..." Yun Che collapsed to the ground, his vision blurring as he gasped weakly. His survival instincts kicked in, and with trembling hands, he reached for his neck, pulling out the cloth with the stone bead wrapped inside. He pressed the last remnants of dew to his cracked lips, sucking desperately.

  The coolness and faint sweetness of the liquid trickled down his throat, giving him a bit of strength and alertness. Struggling, he half-sat up, his bloodstained fingers trembling as he untied the cloth from around his neck. Without caring for the bead, he twisted it against the most severe wound on his right leg.

  A few drops of the dew, which had a faintly sweet and cooling fragrance, fell onto his torn flesh and exposed bone.

  A wave of cooling relief washed over the fiery pain in his leg. The bleeding seemed to slow. But the injury was too severe for a few drops to heal it completely. Exhausted, he collapsed back to the ground, his mind clinging to one desperate hope: that no beasts would be drawn by the scent of his blood.

  Just then, a faint, anxious voice called out through the mountain wind:

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  "Che’er—! Shitou—! Where are you—?!"

  That voice... It’s father?!

  Yun Che froze, almost thinking he was hallucinating from blood loss. Summoning all the strength he had left, he hoarsely yelled, "Father—! I’m here—! Below the cliff—!"

  Not long after his shout, a streak of ice-blue light shot from the sky like a meteor, circling above the cliff before descending rapidly like thunder!

  The light dissipated, revealing two figures. It was the cold-faced Zhang disciple from the Xuan Shuang Sect, and under his arm was Yun Chengshan, his face filled with worry, his hair disheveled.

  "Che’er!" Yun Chengshan, seeing his son bloodied and almost unrecognizable, was heartbroken. Tears streamed down his face as he rushed over and tightly hugged Yun Che. "My son! How could you be so foolish! Why did you go this far? If something had happened to you, how could your mother and I live on!"

  Yun Che was momentarily stunned, then, seeing his own bloodied, miserable form and hearing the despair and misunderstanding in his father’s voice, he couldn't help but smile bitterly. He wanted to explain, but at this moment, words felt so meaningless.

  Zhang disciple frowned and glanced at Yun Che, then looked up at the towering cliff, his sharp eyes catching sight of the broken rope trail. He leapt up with the agility of a monkey, lightly touching the steep rock face a few times before reaching the cave entrance. Just then, the suction force inside the cave started again, howling.

  Zhang disciple’s expression shifted slightly, but he calmly gathered his energy, steadying himself without any effect from the suction. He peered into the cave, quickly looked back at Yun Chengshan, and said indifferently, "Your son didn’t attempt suicide. He must have slipped and fallen, caught by this natural ‘Yin Wind Eye’ in the mountain, lucky not to have died. I understand the situation. I’ll take you both back to the sect, and what happens next will be up to the elder’s decision."

  Without waiting for Yun Chengshan’s reaction, he waved his sleeve, and a soft but irresistible force enveloped both father and son. The next moment, the sword light shot up into the sky, quickly disappearing from the mountain that had nearly claimed Yun Che's life.

  Soon, the sword light descended at the outer edge of the Xuan Shuang Sect, in a guesthouse for temporary workers and visitors. Returning to the familiar place, Yun Che, supported by his father, looked at the faintly visible mountain peak of the sect through the mist, his feelings complex and indescribable.

  Inside the guesthouse, Yun Che’s mother, who had been waiting anxiously, immediately broke into tears when she saw her son. She ran over and tightly embraced him, crying with a mix of accusations, heartache, and relief. From her sobbing, Yun Che learned what had happened.

  Apparently, after he left, his parents had found the letter he wrote and were terrified. They immediately returned to Qinglan City and contacted Yun Qingmo. The three of them, filled with worry, found the clan and confronted Yun Tianhai. Reluctantly, with Yun Qingmo’s strong attitude and implicit threat, Yun Tianhai had no choice but to mobilize the family’s resources, contacting all the relatives who could help and petitioning the Xuan Shuang Sect to look for a "family member who might have gone missing after being rejected by the sect."

  The Xuan Shuang Sect, which had been established for many years, had never encountered such a situation. Normally, they wouldn’t care about the life or death of ordinary people, but given that Yun Che had left after failing their trials, if he had died and word spread to the nearby villages, it might hurt their reputation. No parents would want to send their children to a sect where "rejection might drive children to suicide."

  After some consideration, the sect sent a few low-ranking disciples to search the nearby mountains. Yun Chengshan, with his desperate pleading, was finally allowed to accompany one disciple. This led to the rescue scene earlier at the cliff.

  Not long after, a disciple from the lower ranks brought a steaming bowl of medicinal soup. Yun Che’s mother thanked them repeatedly and carefully fed it to her son. This medicinal soup from the sect was indeed extraordinary. Shortly after entering his stomach, a warm sensation spread throughout his body, easing the pain of his injuries and improving his spirits.

  Surrounded by his parents, who repeatedly cautioned him, Yun Che listened to their worried words, feeling a mix of bitterness and warmth. He had intended to tell them about the stone bead and his strange encounter in the cave, but after thinking about it, he realized it was too bizarre, and the stone bead was so strange that his parents might not understand. It could only add to their worries and even bring unnecessary trouble, so he decided to keep it to himself for now.

  Meanwhile, in the Elder's Hall of the Xuan Shuang Sect:

  The elders responsible for the outer sect affairs were either sitting or standing, listening to Zhang disciple's report, the atmosphere in the hall a little heavy.

  "Absurd!" One elder, a red-faced and irritable man, slammed his hand on the table, causing the tea cups to jump. "Why should we, the Xuan Shuang Sect, concern ourselves with the life or death of a mortal? Look at the cultivation world in Zhao Country, which sect would go to such lengths over a child who wasn’t chosen and decided to kill himself? It’s disgraceful!"

  Another elder, with a cold expression, sighed. "What Elder Ma said is not without reason. However, if the child had died near our sect, word of it would surely spread, and it would hinder our future recruitment. Who would want to send their child to a sect where ‘rejection could lead to suicide’?"

  A third elder, wearing a brocade robe, put down his teacup and said slowly, "In the end, it’s because our sect is no longer what it once was, and we need to actively recruit talented mortals to fortify our foundation. In the days when the sect was at its peak, the life or death of a mortal child would have been nothing to us. But now, we must care about how mortals perceive us."

  The final elder, who had been silent with his eyes closed, finally opened them. His gaze swept over the others before settling on the responsible elder, Zhou. He spoke in a raspy voice, "This child is stubborn. If he’s run away once, there’s no guarantee he won’t do it again. To avoid future trouble and unnecessary gossip, let’s make an exception and accept him as an… outer disciple."

  After a pause, he added, "Zhou, you are in charge of the arrangements."

  With that, the elder closed his eyes again, as though it was a trivial matter.

  Zhou, the elder responsible, understood that this "exception" was not because they valued the child’s talent but because it was the easiest solution. He expressionlessly bowed, "I understand, Elders."