Test

Li Qingfeng flipped through the book aimlessly, his mind completely absent from his studies.

Tu Shanjun watched from the sidelines.

The boy wanting to see a grand spectacle was understandable—it would only last a few days, then pass.

Since he had no focus anyway, he might as well settle into meditation and sleep.

Clouds swirled around him as Li Qingfeng sank into his dream.

Assuming a combat stance, Li Qingfeng declared, "Brother Ghost, since I've already defeated the Mountain Goblin, can I challenge you now?"

Li Qingfeng was eager to know just how strong the Main Soul evil ghost was.

Tu Shanjun shook his head, and with a wave of his hand, a Fierce Ghost clad in black robes appeared before Li Qingfeng.

His expression shifted slightly, because this was none other than Zhao Shixian, who had been at the third layer of Qi Refining.

However, due to yin sha invading his body and Tu Shanjun actively reshaping his appearance, Zhao Shixian now looked like a full-fledged White-faced Evil Ghost, his crimson ghostly eyes fixed on Li Qingfeng not far away.

The other commanded yin ghosts within the Soul Banner indeed lacked sentience, but they possessed extraordinary instincts and hadn't forgotten the martial techniques they'd honed in life.

Because Li Qingfeng's spiritual power was insufficient, many things couldn't be developed, and he didn't know what limits the commanded ghosts could truly reach.

"You want me to spar with him?"

With Zhao Shixian—a relatively high-level commanded soul in the early stages—feeding Li Qingfeng moves, it would be enough to handle things.

Two blossoms bloom on separate branches; let's tell each tale in turn.

While Li Qingfeng trained diligently, Liu Chuang was in the midst of the testing selection.

The test was divided into two parts: first, registration, after which the government would issue a number plate; with that plate, one could proceed to the second part.

That was the actual test.

It was held at the Eight Directions City training grounds, spacious and sufficient.

"The hour has come. Candidates, please proceed with testing according to your number plates."

"Number one, Zhang Xi."

The local gentry had long gotten word, bribing the registration officer with silver to secure early number plates.

Of course, this was originally the Prefect's intention—the bulk of that silver went into the Prefect's own pockets.

Otherwise, the registration officer alone wouldn't have dared to be so bold.

The Prefect had summoned the gentry in advance precisely for this reason.

So Liu Chuang and his group held very early number plates.

"What a pity Brother Qingfeng couldn't come. Such a grand occasion—how does it compare to the imperial examinations?"

"Though the imperial examinations are also packed, they're far from this pursuit of immortal fate."

"Indeed!"

Liu Chuang sighed, "I still don't know if we have any immortal fate at all. My old man said that last selection, only three people were chosen."

"I just checked with the registration officer—it's already up to over fourteen hundred, and more people keep pouring in."

"Who's this number one?"

"Some relative of Prefect Zhang, I'd say. With the surname Zhang and such a high ranking, it's definitely a relative of the Prefect's household."

Zhang Xi took a deep breath, stepped out of the crowd, and approached the platform.

He bowed to the high platform, then placed his hand on the massive, blank Spirit Pearl.

Nothing happened.

After another three breaths, still no change.

The two figures seated calmly on the high platform showed no reaction.

Zhang Xi walked away, dejected.

"Number two..."

The testing proceeded in full swing. After dozens of people had tested, still no one with spiritual roots had appeared.

The young man sitting leisurely on the high platform seemed to have known this outcome all along.

He wore an embroidered brocade robe, his hair casually pinned up with a hair clasp.

Though he said nothing, there was an air of superiority about him.

"Immortal Master, this official has pressing government affairs and cannot keep you company any longer." The other seated middle-aged man rose and cupped his hands, a smile plastered on his face.

The young man gave a slight nod, unwilling to say even a word more.

His eyelids drooped, his breathing steady—he had long since entered meditation.

Zhang Wanlong said nothing more. Immortal Masters were all like this; they disdained speaking with mortals.

In the past ten years, he had seen the Immortal Master only a handful of times.

Only when ghosts or goblins caused trouble in Eight Directions Prefecture would the Immortal Master emerge from seclusion.

Ordinarily, this Immortal Master devoted himself entirely to bitter cultivation.

Leaving the platform, Zhang Wanlong's expression dimmed slightly. He turned to the Advisor beside him and instructed, "Keep an eye out. If any destined ones the Immortal Master rejects appear, recruit them."

"Rest assured, Prefect. Your subordinate understands."

"Number eighty-seven, Liu Chuang."

"My turn." Liu Chuang couldn't help but feel nervous.

He performed the customary bow and placed his palm on the blank Spirit Pearl.

The Spirit Pearl immediately burst into light.

The young Immortal Master, who had been meditating on the platform for some time, suddenly opened his eyes.

His gaze shimmered with spiritual light. He parted his lips, and his voice rang out like a striking bell, clear and steady: "Qualified. Come up and wait."

Liu Chuang was so overcome with excitement that his head spun and his legs went weak, threatening to give way.

Just then, a tremendous force lifted him up, and most of his nervousness faded away.

"Thank you, Immortal Master." After bowing again, Liu Chuang walked up onto the platform.

He reached the empty seat reserved beside the Immortal Master and sat down stiffly.

"Whoa, Brother Liu made it in."

"Has Brother Liu obtained a celestial destiny?"

"And he's the first one to do so."

As the number plates were consumed one by one, the news of Liu Chuang's celestial destiny was like a pebble tossed into a pond—it raised no waves, yet it reignited the fighting spirit of those still waiting to be tested.

They had thought celestial destinies were a lie, but now it seemed they simply had none themselves.

"Number ninety-two, Meng Zhen."

Liu Chuang, seated on the platform, couldn't help but pay attention. This was the second of their group of five.

Meng Zhen suppressed his nervousness.

He bowed, then placed his hand down.

Light flared again.

Meng Zhen's eyes visibly widened, and he trembled with excitement.

"It lit up again."

"Someone else qualified?"

The young Immortal Master's gaze flickered, a trace of regret showing in his eyes. "Not qualified."

The light was much dimmer than Liu Chuang's.

That light indicated a Five Spirit Root. For a Five Spirit Root, sensing Qi would take three months.

And that was only for those with decent fortune and unwavering perseverance.

Otherwise, the time needed for sensing Qi would only drag on.

It could be half a year, a year, or even a lifetime.

Even with three months to sense Qi, that was two months slower than a Four Spirit Root. By the time others had started refining essence into Qi, a Five Spirit Root cultivator would still be sensing it.

Moreover, with a Five Spirit Root, every step was an obstacle.

The Middle Stage was a major hurdle.

Their lifetime limit might only be Qi Refining Middle Stage, with no chance to advance further.

Without fortune, they would only waste away their entire lives.

The sect would not accept disciples with Five Spirit Roots; taking them in would be a waste of resources.

Meng Zhen had already imagined himself, like in the storybooks, flying a sword for a thousand miles.

But this single "not qualified" sent him plummeting from heaven to hell.

He staggered two steps and fell to his knees with a thud.

His face bore an expression of disbelief as he kowtowed and said, "I beg the Immortal for mercy."

The young Immortal Master's expression was cold and stern, showing no leniency.

Liu Chuang, sitting nearby, opened his mouth. "Immortal Master, why can't he..."

The Immortal Master glanced at Liu Chuang, his expression softening slightly, and declared, "False Spirit Root. His aptitude is too poor; he cannot enter the Dao."

Seeing that Liu Chuang still wanted to say more, the young man rebuked, "Do not be ungrateful."

Liu Chuang quickly shut his mouth, his demeanor growing even more respectful and his posture more rigid.

He was still a mortal now. The Immortal Master had only explained because he deemed Liu Chuang's aptitude qualified.

Meng Zhen staggered to his feet, not even bothering to pick up his fallen hairpin.

Just as he was about to leave, a middle-aged Scholar suddenly walked up to him. "Rest easy, young master. Though you cannot enter the Immortal Sect, the Prefectural Governor's Mansion also has celestial opportunities for you."

Meng Zhen, who had been pale and listless, stared fixedly at the Scholar, his urgency like a drowning man grasping at the last straw: "Truly?!"

"This Humble One's young master, follow me."

Meng Zhen hesitated for a moment, but the thought of immortal destiny and seeking the Dao to attain transcendence made that sliver of caution vanish in an instant, and he followed the middle-aged Scholar away.

The testing continued.

The last two of the five-man group couldn't even make the Spirit Pearl glow.

The sun set beyond the western hills, red clouds staining the sky.

Another seat on the high platform was taken.

It was a youth in short clothes, not very old, even more restrained and self-conscious than Liu Chuang.

Over five hundred had been tested, and only two qualified candidates had been sifted out. Counting Meng Zhen, who had failed, that made three.

Nearly one in two hundred.

"Today's testing ends. It will resume tomorrow at the hour of the Dragon."