Crying While Filling the Pit I Dug - Chapter 13
Ling Qianyi passed!
Song Miaomiao was so ecstatic that she almost jumped up, narrowly avoiding disaster.
As soon as this remark came out, the discussion became more heated.
“All on to the next scene”
“Haha, I passed!”
“That mean all those who submitted their answers are qualified?”
“Father, I’m entering the next test!”
“Why did the Wanshan Sect do this?”
“What does it mean?”
“Never mind it, as long as we can get in. The Wanshan Sect didn’t specify how many disciples they will recruit this time, maybe the second round and the third round will be like this.”
“Why?”
“…”
When Ling Qianyi first heard the answer, he was also very happy, but he was also very puzzled. What kind of tricks was the Wanshan Sect playing?
He boldly asked Master Fang directly, “Brother Fang, why did everyone who submitted the answer pass this round of competition? Has everyone counted the number of leaves on the tree right?”
“Yes, yes, Brother Fang, as far as I know, there are many people who have not counted.”
Master Fang smiled slightly, saying, “The topic of the first round of competition is patience. Patience is the first lesson to be learned as a disciple of the Wanshan Sect.”
Song Miaomiao and Ling Qianyi stared wide-eyed, it turned out that the real problem was that.
The competition was not at all about who could count the number of leaves on the tree, but who was not impatient when facing this difficult problem, and was not bored when doing this task. From more than 700 people to more than 90 people, how many people ruined their chance to become a disciple of the Wanshan Sect because of their own impatience and boredom!
Which character I wrote came up with this idea?! Not bad, that person is promising!
Song Miaomiao secretly felt that the world she wrote seemed to have her own set of rules, which was beyond her control as the author.
Master Fang continued, “Everyone, please have a good rest tonight. We will gather here for the second competition tomorrow. Tomorrow’s competition will not be so easy.”
Ling Qianyi took Song Miaomiao to Bean Sprout Village to find some food, and roasted sweet potatoes around the fire.
People around were whispering and talking about the Wanshan Sect.
“I heard that the father of the first disciple Master Fang is a high official!”
“It seems to be, but which high official it is. I am afraid that no one knows except the head of the Wanshan Sect.”
“No wonder he has such an extraordinary temperament!”
“…”
Did she set Master Fang as the son of a high-ranking official? It was really Mary Sue. Every main character was either a demon princess, or a decent disciple, or the son of a rich businessman, or an orphan and a mute kid.
Ling Qianyi handed the baked sweet potato to Song Miaomiao. Both were full of thoughts. Would the next competition be more difficult?
Ling Qianyi suddenly said, “My mother once told me that a person becomes a star after death.”
Song Miaomiao looked up to the sky, only to see the stars in the sky and the shadow of the Milky Way. In modern society, the city lights were bright at night. Except in TV programs or those PS “photographs”, she had never seen so many dazzling stars. It was so spectacular.
Song Miaomiao thought for a while, picked up a scorched branch and wrote on the ground, “They are always with you, the stars are their eyes when they look at you.”
“Yes,” Ling Qianyi lamented.
After a while, Ling Qianyi suddenly said, “Miaomiao, the third character you wrote is ‘one’, that’s how ‘one’ is written.”
Ling Qianyi took the branch from Song Miaomiao’s hand and wrote a big “一”, and several characters that were different were circled as typos and corrected.
One taught and the other wrote, which diverted their focus on the second test , and that night was not so difficult.
Under the stars, the two children made do with the rocks all night.
On the second day of the competition at the same time as the previous one, there were a lot more white-clothed Wanshan Sect disciples who appeared that day. They lined up in two neat squares and stood scattered on both sides of the mountain gate. Brother Song was among them. The total number of these Wanshan Sect disciples was at least three times that of before.
What was the content of that day’s test? Were these brothers there to maintain the order of the test? But there were more people the previous day, so it didn’t make sense. There were fewer people participating, but so many disciples were sent instead.
After exchanging pleasantries, Master Fang said, “For the second competition, these 292 people are invited to line up one by one at the mountain gate to draw lots.”
The 292 people quickly formed a long line, and everyone got a wooden stick.
The label on the wooden stick that Ling Qianyi got was: 77.
After everyone got a wooden stick one by one, Master Fang bowed to the disciples of the two square teams, and said solemnly, “I’m sorry to bother you, brothers and sisters.”
The disciples of the Wanshan Sect also saluted him in a uniform manner. Three young disciples in white clothes held a can of wooden sticks and walked up to each disciple in line. Each disciple was also like a contestant. Generally, a lottery was drawn, and they held it in both hands in front of their chests.
Master Fang said solemnly, “Everyone, this second competition is called—the one who survives is the king. The rules of this competition are also very simple. According to the numbers on the wooden sticks drawn by everyone, the Wanshan Sect sent the disciples with the same number to compete. Whoever wins will pass the competition. The loser will be eliminated directly and will not enter the next round. However, for the sake of fairness, the disciples of Wanshan Sect could not use their right hand during the competition. They can fight with their left hand only.”
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