15, Missing

Just as Li Qingfeng had expected, the testing lasted four days.

In the end, five people were selected.

Their ages varied, the oldest being twenty and the youngest nine.

Liu Chuang was on the older end of the spectrum.

Word had it that three more unqualified candidates had appeared, bringing the total to four, counting Meng Zhen.

As for who said so, naturally it was the last two of the five-man group.

After the testing concluded, the remaining two invited Li Qingfeng to gather again at the Music Bureau Tower.

"A pity, Qingfeng, that you didn't go. It was incredibly lively."

"More lively than passing the imperial examinations."

"All the colors of human life, everything you could imagine." Yang Lingu sighed.

Those days at the Training Ground truly showcased every shade of human existence—those weeping with joy, those fainting from excitement, those wailing loudly, those sobbing uncontrollably, those cursing heaven for its blindness, those begging pitifully, those utterly lost and dazed...

Everything imaginable.

A single test measured spiritual roots and immortal fate, yet it also painted a portrait of all living beings.

Some changed their destiny, some accepted theirs.

Some refused to believe in fate.

Most, however, had never held much hope to begin with and didn't count among the unqualified, so life went on as usual, unaffected.

To Li Qingfeng's surprise, Meng Zhen didn't show up.

He had assumed the man was still reeling from the blow of having spiritual roots but being unable to cultivate.

Li Qingfeng thought about it and considered himself quite fortunate. He too had five spiritual roots and understood what the immortal masters meant by false spiritual roots.

False spiritual roots meant obstacles at every step; without a heaven-defying stroke of fortune, there was no hope of reaching the later stages of Qi Refining in this lifetime.

If he hadn't stumbled upon the corpse of an immortal, obtained a cultivation method, and acquired the Soul Banner, he truly wouldn't have seen any hope.

Even though Meng Zhen hadn't come, Li Qingfeng still asked, "And Brother Meng?"

He had a cultivation method in hand, regardless of whether it was righteous or demonic—at least it allowed one to cultivate.

"Meng Zhen's been acting mysterious lately. I heard the Prefectural Governor's Mansion recruited those with immortal fate that the immortals rejected. No idea what he's up to."

Life had to go on, but without Liu Chuang and Meng Zhen, the literary gatherings could no longer be held.

Usually, Liu Chuang was the one to make connections and organize everything.

It hadn't seemed like much before, but now that the man had suddenly gone off to seek immortality, they realized they'd grown somewhat distant from their other friends.

Without that intermediary as a link, their connections naturally dwindled.

Li Qingfeng didn't dwell on it much. Sometimes, even people you've known for a long time inevitably feel distant, as if some bonds were never meant to be close.

When everyone was together, it wasn't noticeable at all, but once that key person left, the flaws were laid bare.

It suited him just fine—no one to disturb his pursuit of immortality and the Dao.

Poor aptitude meant he had to work harder.

Time in the banner passed without notice.

Without the change of day and night, it was no different from being imprisoned.

Fortunately, Tu Shan Jun could still practice his fists every day.

He also reviewed the knowledge from before his transmigration, recited the Dao De Jing, and chanted the Heart Sutra.

Those were the only two he knew.

The Dao De Jing he memorized to show off, and the Heart Sutra for the same reason.

He never imagined he'd one day end up in a world of immortal cultivation; if he had, he would have memorized more.

Tu Shan Jun felt it was a pity that he hadn't studied the Daoist scriptures of his former world more diligently.

Teaching Li Qingfeng through dreams was one of his few pleasures.

Another two months passed.

Li Qingfeng's cultivation remained at Qi Refining First Layer.

His mana had increased, though.

His martial skills had grown more refined, and with practice against ghosts in his dreams, his combat techniques were now a far cry from before.

Tu Shan Jun demanded that he not slack off in the real world either.

Training by day and refining by night, he honed his combat techniques into muscle memory.

Li Qingfeng gripped the Soul Banner tightly, channeling his mana into it.

As if seeing within himself, he beheld the scene inside the Soul Banner.

Gray mist filled the space, blurring the line between heaven and earth, where vicious ghosts gathered like a hellish gate to the underworld.

The yin spirits and ghostly beings did not appear particularly fierce, though a few among them were stronger.

The pale-faced ghost he had been sparring with was one of them.

The Main Soul sat cross-legged at the center of the ghostly crowd.

As mana surged in, Tu Shan Jun felt he could move.

He stepped out from the Soul Banner and entered the real world.

An antique study, with shelves behind him packed full of books, both old and new.

Li Qingfeng's face visibly paled—an outward sign of his mana running dry.

Before Tu Shan Jun could observe further, his form dissolved into black smoke and returned to the Soul Banner.

"Five breaths."

Li Qingfeng smiled. His mana had grown by a full two times, which was what it took to release the Main Soul from the banner.

From the initial two breaths to the current five.

In his dantian, there were ten strands of mana, each as thin as a hair.

The Qi Refining Second Layer was still far off.

One strand of mana was Qi Refining First Layer; ten strands were still Qi Refining First Layer.

Another two months passed.

Yang Lingu, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, came to find him.

He was in a hurry.

After sitting down, Yang Lingu just furrowed his brow, saying nothing.

"Brother Yang?"

Li Qingfeng called out to Yang Lingu, who was sitting dazed in his seat.

"Wubao, Brother Yang's tea has gone cold."

Wubao quickly replaced the tea on the table with hot soup.

Yang Lingu hurriedly apologized: "Forgive me, Brother Qingfeng. The truth is, I don't know... how to bring this up."

"Brother Yang, you're being too formal. Just say it."

"Meng Zhen."

"He might already be dead."

Words shocking enough to startle the dead.

As the words fell, a sharp glint flashed in Li Qingfeng's eyes.

"Brother Yang, this joke isn't funny at all." Li Qingfeng's expression turned serious. Even if they were slightly estranged friends, they were still good friends.

Joking like that was terrifying.

Yang Lingu said sorrowfully, "I have no intention of mocking Brother Qingfeng."

With that, he took a Messenger Pigeon from his bosom—white feathers, red beak—and opened the message tube tied to its leg. It was empty inside.

"Meng Zhen and I were close friends. We talked about almost everything."

"Three months ago, Meng Zhen told me the Prefectural Governor had provided Immortal Cultivation Techniques to them, and he had successfully developed Qi Sense and become a Qi Refiner."

"This month, contact grew less and less. The last time was seven days ago."

"He came to me in a rush and told me there was something wrong with the technique."

"The Prefectural Governor had people watching them strictly, not allowing them to leave the Prefectural Governor's Mansion."

"He told me that if the pigeon flew back with no message at all, then he had most likely been killed."

By the time Yang Lingu finished speaking, Li Qingfeng's face had turned completely grim.

'The Prefectural Governor's Mansion has a big problem.'

Listening to Yang Lingu's account, the same thought flashed through Tu Shan Jun's mind.

Just from the fact that they were recruiting unqualified people who still had spiritual roots, it was clear the Prefectural Governor's Mansion had some scheme.

Now that Meng Zhen had gone missing, the Prefectural Governor's Mansion was highly suspect.

"I have no way to deal with this now." Yang Lingu let out a long sigh.

A month ago, Liu Chuang had hosted a final banquet for the three of them, and Meng Zhen hadn't shown up.

Liu Chuang had already left with the Immortal Master. Among their group, Liu Chuang's family had some influence.

Now that Liu Chuang had left the group, there was no one to look out for them.

He went to find the last member of their five-man group, but that person didn't think it was serious and told him to wait—maybe Meng Zhen was just in seclusion.

Yang Lingu couldn't very well go to Meng Zhen's family with this news. If he spread it around, the Meng family would beat him out the door.

In the end, with no other options left, he thought of Li Qingfeng.

Although Yang Lingu didn't think Li Qingfeng could solve the problem, he needed more people to know about it.

If he alone knew, and something unexpected happened, the information would be cut off.

Not to mention, bearing such immense psychological pressure alone made every step feel like walking on thin ice.

So Yang Lingu urgently needed someone else to discuss countermeasures with.

He also needed to confirm news of Meng Zhen as soon as possible.

"Brother Qingfeng, I'm truly at my wit's end. Your family runs many shops; you should be able to get in touch with the Prefectural Governor's Advisor." Yang Lingu looked at Li Qingfeng with hope.

Just then, Li Qingfeng's gaze swept over as well.

Today's Yang Lingu had none of his former high spirits.

Beyond his haggard appearance, his brows were etched with deep worry.

"I'll find someone to ask for you."

Though he held little hope, Yang Lingu still offered his sincere thanks.

Li Qingfeng gripped the Soul Banner tightly in his hand, watching Yang Lingu's retreating figure.

Two months had passed, and he had accumulated ten strands of mana, enough for the Main Soul's evil ghost to manifest for ten breaths.

Also enough to use the Soul Banner's Night Parade of a Hundred Ghosts once.

Ordinary people were no match for him.

Even so-called First-Class or Innate experts in the martial world could never withstand the slaughter of the Main Soul's evil ghost.

Tu Shan Jun's expression remained calm.

It seemed Li Qingfeng had already made up his mind to head to the Prefectural Governor's Mansion and take a look.

He had nothing more to say.

Was he supposed to persuade the other not to keep investigating, not to care about his friend's life or death?

Tu Shan Jun couldn't do that.

Some things had to be done, even if one was still weak.