All Milfs are my disciple

As the Second Elder's voice declared the start of the disciple selection trial, the tense silence that had once gripped the grounds immediately gave way to a growing murmur of voices. Whispers swirled like wind through the vast crowd of cultivators assembled below the thousand-step staircase, each one eager—some desperate—to earn a place within the hallowed halls of the Divine Palace.

Fear and ambition clashed in the eyes of the young men and women gathered. Some stood trembling, beads of sweat already forming on their brows. Others wore expressions of unshakable confidence, smirking as if victory was already within their grasp.

"Hmph! What do you know?" a brash voice rose among the whispers, spoken with pride. "I'm the fourth prince of the Jiang Dynasty. I'll definitely be chosen as a core disciple—maybe even by the Palace Master himself!"

The surrounding cultivators quickly turned to look at the source, and several voices joined in, full of flattery and hope.

"Senior brother, don't forget me after getting selected," a hopeful young man grinned, clapping him on the back.

A girl with soft eyes and revealing clothes leaned in and whispered sweetly, "Senior brother, I'm free tonight… If you'd like, you can come to my room. I'll give you a nice massage."

Laughter and tension mixed freely in the air, a strange contrast of anxiety and desire.

But the moment didn't last long.

On the stage, the Second Elder's eyes narrowed as he scanned the undisciplined crowd. With a stern flick of his sleeve, he stepped forward, his voice laced with spiritual energy as he thundered, "Quiet. The test will begin now. You may all begin climbing the stairs!"

With a wave of his hand, a visible ripple of qi expanded across the field, silencing all noise like a falling curtain.

The crowd froze—then surged.

Like floodwaters bursting through a gate, hundreds of disciples rushed forward toward the glowing staircase that shimmered with spiritual light. The thousand steps glowed with ancient runes, each emanating faint pressure. The moment their feet touched the first step, many already felt their knees weaken, their breath tighten. The trial had begun.

High on the stage, Fang Ming sat calmly in his chair, appearing tranquil on the surface, but deep inside, a flurry of thoughts swirled with intensity.

The test has begun…

His sharp eyes locked onto a figure far down below—a young woman in ragged clothes, standing motionless even as others ran past her. Li Yao.

Her phoenix bloodline still lies dormant… But under the pressure of the staircase, it may awaken, he mused, tapping a finger lightly against the armrest of his throne. If it activates, her strength will surge, and she might soar to the upper levels with ease. Or worse… her damn protagonist halo might flare up, giving her some miraculous boost out of nowhere.

He frowned, and his gaze grew colder.

And if that happens, every elder on this platform will fight to take her as their personal disciple…

His brows tightened.

Even the Palace Master might act personally. After all, someone with a dormant phoenix bloodline and blue-tier luck is an asset even in the Upper Realm.

Fang Ming exhaled slowly, but the chill in his gaze remained.

That would be problematic. Even though I am considered a genius elder from the Upper Realm… a cultivator who recently reached the Saint Realm… that alone doesn't make me a "good master."

He glanced briefly at the elders seated nearby.

All of them are ancient monsters who have long stabilized their Saint Realm cultivation. Their reputations are rock-solid. If she has the freedom to choose, it's possible—even likely—that she'll choose one of them.

The thought didn't sit well with him.

If that happens, I'll lose my first mission from the system. I can't let that happen.

His eyes narrowed even further, a dangerous glint emerging.

Should I… use some underhanded means?

A plan began to form.

If I were to discreetly sabotage her before the test even begins, I could then appear at the right moment, saving her from failure and earning her trust…

His fingers tightened slightly on the armrest.

But no. That's far too risky. The Palace Master's cultivation is leagues beyond mine. If I make a single mistake, he'll detect it instantly.

He clenched his jaw slightly, frustration flickering across his otherwise calm face.

Still… I can't sit here idly. If I don't act, she might get snatched away right in front of me.

Then another possibility surfaced in his mind, bold and unorthodox.

Should I descend from the stage now… and declare her as my personal disciple?

His eyes flashed with hesitation.

It would break sect tradition. There would be backlash. But at least she would be mine—guaranteed.

Before he could reach a conclusion, a sudden wave of spiritual energy swept across the sky.

A presence descended.

Strong. Unfamiliar. Ancient.

All eyes lifted toward the heavens.

A figure emerged in the air above the testing ground—an old man, floating without effort, his white robes billowing in the wind, his aura like the silent weight of a mountain. His long beard flowed like mist, and his eyes—those piercing, ageless eyes—were fixed unwaveringly on a single point in the crowd.

Li Yao.

Even amidst the tens of thousands present, the old man's gaze pierced directly to her. It was as if she alone existed in his vision.

Fang Ming's pupils shrank slightly.

Who is that?

The old man's presence was unlike any elder currently seated. There was no announcement, no introduction—just a sudden, commanding arrival and a soul-shaking focus.

Fang Ming's thoughts turned cautious.

Another variable has entered the game… and his attention is on her. Just what kind of background is this girl hiding?

Far below, Li Yao, unaware of the drama unfolding above, had just taken her first step forward toward the staircase—toward destiny.

But in the shadows of power, eyes had begun to converge upon her.

And not all of them had good intentions.