Testing

As time passed.

The line, which had seemed endless at first, was now clearly countable. Through the testing, the number of youths with qualified aptitude had also grown, reaching a total of fifteen.

Cheng Buzheng roughly estimated the time in his heart. It would take another two hours before it ended, by which time it would be nearly sunset.

From the start in the morning until the end at sunset, it would be a full twelve hours.

Suddenly.

A strange sound rang out from the group of youths who had passed the test.

"Gurgle..."

The sturdy youth, who had endured hunger for a long time, wore a look of shame on his face. Although he did not say anything, his stomach had uncooperatively expressed its need for food.

Hearing this.

The youths standing beside the immortal looked at each other, and in an instant, it was as if they had reached some kind of invisible agreement.

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

Cheng Buzheng's stomach also voiced its opinion. With a tacit understanding, they all looked toward the immortal on the side.

Immediately.

Those strange sounds were like a symphony.

The young immortal was stunned for a moment upon hearing the strange noises, then, as if he had realized something, he smiled slightly.

"I forgot that you are still mortals and need to eat every day. These are Bigu Pills. One for each of you; it is enough to keep you from needing food for a month!"

As he spoke, he brushed the small pouch at his waist, gripped a long-necked porcelain bottle in his hand, poured fifteen spirit pills into his palm, and then flicked his hand upward.

The fifteen spirit pills seemed to have eyes of their own, hovering in front of each youth—not one more, not one less, exactly one for each person.

"We thank the immortal!"

The young immortal waved his hand and said:

"There is no need for that. From now on, we are all of the same sect, and you are all my junior brothers. You may just call me Senior Brother Huang!

'Immortal' is what mortals call us; those of us in our generation are all cultivators aiming to achieve immortality.

Rest for a while; I must continue the testing here!"

"Thank you... Senior Brother Huang!"

The youths couldn't wait to pinch the spiritual pills in front of them and swallow them down.

Cheng Buzheng suppressed the curiosity in his heart and also pinched the spiritual pill floating before him. This was the first time he had ever seen one. Instead of rushing to consume it, he examined it carefully.

He knew that this pill was certainly the most basic grade of spiritual pill, yet it was still something no mortal could ever possess.

The pill was unremarkable in appearance, presenting a dark, pitch-black color with a faint, ghostly sheen radiating from its surface—a testament to the miraculous methods of the immortals.

At this moment, his stomach protested once again.

"Gurgle..."

Cheng Buzheng did not delay any longer and swallowed the first spiritual pill he had ever obtained in his life. The Bigu Pill melted the moment it touched his tongue, turning into a warm current that comforted his entire digestive tract.

In an instant, he no longer felt a shred of hunger.

The pills of immortal cultivators were truly miraculous, with incredibly potent effects.

The sun set in the west, and in the blink of an eye, more than an hour passed. There were only a few scattered groups left on the plaza, with an occasional youth jogging in from the outside in a hurry.

The testing process was very fast. Half an hour later, not a single youth entered the plaza anymore.

At this time, the old man in the black robe, who had been sitting cross-legged in the center and had not spoken a single word from beginning to end, opened his eyes and swept his gaze over the youths who had passed the test.

The old man appeared to have the refined air of an immortal, but when his gaze fell upon Cheng Buzheng, the boy's hair stood on end. He felt as if he were being stared at by a prehistoric beast. If he hadn't known that this old man was on his side, he would have run as far away as he possibly could.

As the black-robed old man's gaze moved away from him, Cheng Buzheng couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, though he thought to himself, Is this what an immortal cultivator is? I could barely withstand even a single glance!

The black-robed old man said in a hoarse voice, "How many people have been recruited this time?"

"Reporting to Uncle Ding, Ping'an County has recruited fourteen people with Four Spiritual Roots and two with Three Spiritual Roots, totaling sixteen people," Senior Brother Huang replied respectfully.

"Not bad. Being able to recruit so many seedlings this year has exceeded my expectations. In the past, there were only three or five. It is a pity that there isn't a single one with Double Spiritual Roots!"

Uncle Ding looked at the youths with an expression of regret.

"You now have one hour to return and say goodbye to your families. We will depart immediately after one hour. Those who do not need to say goodbye may wait here!"

As soon as his voice fell:

A delicate-looking youth bowed respectfully and spoke up:

"Uncle, I will go out to say goodbye to my parents!"

Uncle Ding glanced at the youth nonchalantly and said indifferently:

"It is too early to call me Uncle. Wait until you have officially joined the sect before you call me that!"

Hearing this, the delicate-looking youth was taken aback, but he quickly reacted and said:

"Yes, Senior. I shall withdraw!"

Uncle Ding closed his eyes once more, paying no further mind to the youth who had just passed the test.

Before long, the seventeen youths left one after another. As they departed, they each respectfully bowed to Uncle Ding, who remained sitting on the ground with his eyes closed, before retreating.

Cheng Buzheng, however, did not leave. If an accident were to occur at this very moment, wouldn't he lose a heaven-sent opportunity? Furthermore, his family was not by his side, and the clothes he had left at the inn were of no value. It was only the pigments made from medicinal herbs that would be a pity to abandon.

But that was not enough to make him leave at this critical juncture just to retrieve three porcelain bottles of pigment.

He believed that the Immortal possessed enough of a deterrent force to keep those powerful families from acting rashly. Although the possibility of an accident was slim, it was better to be safe.

While Cheng Buzheng was secretly lamenting the loss of those few bottles of pigment, he noticed that there was only one other youth, dressed in coarse linen, who had not left, just like him.

This youth was rather sturdy and had an honest-looking face. This person possessed Four Spiritual Roots. Was it because his family was not in the county seat, or was this person simply cautious by nature?

There were only two youths with Three Spiritual Roots: himself and the delicate-looking youth who had spoken first.

He understood the principle that things are valued for their scarcity; Three Spiritual Roots should have better aptitude than Four Spiritual Roots.

The aptitude of Spiritual Roots was exactly the same as the setting in the hit web novel A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality from his past life, though he did not know if there were any differences later on.

A flurry of chaotic thoughts flashed through his mind.

Over half an hour later, all the youths had returned to the square one after another. They dared not wait until the very last moment to arrive.

The fury of a Martial Uncle was not something they, as newcomers who had just joined the sect, could afford to endure.

Uncle Ding, who had been sitting on the ground with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them the moment all the youths had gathered. A flash of sharp light glinted in his eyes.

Uncle Ding stood up, looked at the youths, and said expressionlessly: "Since everyone is here, let us depart!"

As soon as his voice fell:

Uncle Ding reached out and brushed his hand over the small pouch at his waist. A palm-sized jade boat appeared in his hand. He flicked his wrist, and the jade boat grew rapidly in the wind.

In the blink of an eye, a giant jade boat over a hundred feet long was silently hovering above the square.