Shangyin of Plum Mountain

On the table, inside a jade porcelain bottle, lay five perfectly round Earth Treasure Spirit Pills. Their medicinal fragrance spilled into the air, brimming with spiritual luster.

Xu Yan's gaze sharpened slightly. He removed the wooden stopper and poured one pill into his palm. This spirit pill seemed born of heaven itself, white tinged with gold, with a thin veil of spiritual energy curling around it.

He swallowed it in one gulp, then immediately crossed his legs atop the meditation cushion, silently reciting the Aperture-Opening Art as his mind sank into his body.

"From one breath divide the Two Principles; the Four Images quell the Eight Wastes. Earthfire boils the vast sea; cloud-script inscribes heaven's chapters. The spirit returns to Kunlun Ruins; qi locks down Penglai Isle. The heart attains the crystal realm; the body becomes a map of mountains and seas."

In the dark void, thirty-six dim and lightless spirit apertures hung high above like dead stars.

Only the first aperture, the Baihui Aperture, held a glimmer like firefly light. This was the result of Xu Yan sitting cross-legged on the bluestone for an entire morning on the day he sought the Dao at Cliff Sea.

After taking the Earth Treasure Spirit Pill, Xu Yan felt his body gradually grow feverish. Surging, majestic mana raced through his meridians like rivers. Guiding that immense spiritual power, he sent it crashing into this realm.

The spiritual energy of the Earth Treasure Spirit Pill was like a heavenly river pouring in from beyond the void, battering the Baihui Aperture without cease.

The black-hole-like Baihui Aperture devoured the spiritual energy like a whale swallowing a dragon.

This continued for nearly half an hour before the pill's medicinal potency was completely expended.

Within that murky aperture, only a spirit point the size of a soybean had been opened.

Xu Yan stared blankly at it, then opened his eyes, his brows tightly furrowed. One Earth Treasure Spirit Pill refined from a thousand-year treasure could let an ordinary mortal open nine apertures in succession. Yet such vast spiritual power, upon entering the Formless Aperture, is but a drop in the ocean—utterly insignificant.

All living beings in this world possessed form.

Those without form were rare not only in this age; even in ancient times, they had been freakish oddities.

As for the legendary "Formless True Person," it was still uncertain whether such a being had ever existed. After all, there were countless unofficial histories throughout the four seas. Perhaps that Travelogue of Dongzhou was merely a Daoist record fabricated out of the resentment of some Formless one.

"How many heavenly treasures and earthly medicines, spirit pills and miraculous elixirs would it take to open even a single Formless Aperture? Even if the treasure vault of the Prince of Wu'an's estate were emptied, it likely wouldn't be enough." Xu Yan laughed helplessly and shook his head. "It seems I'll have to go to Dragon City, empty Great Yin's imperial treasury, and only then will there be enough for my cultivation."

With that thought, Xu Yan swallowed the remaining four treasure pills in one go.

Half an hour later, four more "soybeans" had appeared within the Baihui Aperture.

A hundred li east of Dongli Commandery lay an unbroken expanse of green woods and rolling mountains, stretching beyond sight.

The Ten-Thousand Mang Mountains sprawled and rose for more than three hundred thousand li, the oldest and largest mountain range within Great Yin.

In ancient times, many primordial tribes had emerged from this place, their ancestors all sages of the human race whose names were recorded in ancient texts.

Too many secrets of the ages lay buried here. Over the years, countless Daoists had flocked here like ducks to a pond, bringing out one Daoist book and scripture after another from those ancient ruins buried beneath dust, while also digging up many Earth Treasures and spirit herbs from the old soil.

In its depths, ancient mountains thrust straight into the clouds, blotting out sun and sky. Demons, devils, and evil spirits ran rampant; without sufficient cultivation and supernatural abilities, one would likely enter but never leave.

Since Great Yin was founded, it had continually sought to conquer this ancient mountain range. Now, its outer regions were quite safe, with no evil spirits or demons in sight.

At its outskirts stood a mountain like an immortal realm, Plum Mountain. Because its slopes were filled with wintersweet trees, it gained this name.

It was early spring. Amid Plum Mountain's morning mist, swathes of crimson wintersweet trees appeared and disappeared like flower-waves in a sea of fog, breathtakingly beautiful, like a poem brought to life.

Shangyin Academy was hidden somewhere within this mountain, solitary and elusive.

Before long, two young men in dark Confucian robes emerged from the mountains. Yawning and stretching lazily, they each held an Eight Trigrams array disk.

"They actually want us to set up a Decree Script Array in the bamboo forest outside the mountain. What does Master Xun mean by this? Does he not want to recruit any disciples this year?"

"Even some of the older students in the academy wouldn't be able to pass such an ancient array."

"How many do you think will make it through this year?"

"Not more than the number on one hand."

"I say none will pass."

"What are we betting?"

"A thousand spirit coins, plus half a month of mountain patrol."

"Deal!"

As they spoke, the two young Confucian scholars struck their palms together through the air, then laughed loudly as they headed beyond the mountain.

Three days later, at first light, the east of the city was already filled with an unending clamor. The crowd surged shoulder to shoulder, and at a glance there were no fewer than a thousand people.

The first requirement for Shangyin Academy's admissions was that applicants could not be older than sixteen. Thus, the crowd was filled with youthful faces—boys and girls, impoverished scholars, young masters from merchant and noble families, children of martial artists from the jianghu, and heirs to ancient lineages.

They were all young people only beginning to step into the world, like the rising sun at dawn—burning with fervor, brimming with boundless energy.

The moment the hour of the dragon arrived and the eastern city gate opened, the crowd surged forth, all setting out on foot.

The second requirement for Shangyin Academy's admissions was to travel from Dongli Commandery, a hundred li away, to the bamboo forest at the foot of Plum Mountain. Anyone who failed to arrive before noon would lose their qualification.

One should not underestimate those hundred li. Most of these youths had only just opened their spirit apertures, while some had yet to open one at all. Covering a hundred li in three hours was no simple task.

Among the crowd, a youth in a gold-threaded Daoist robe was particularly conspicuous. With the stride of a dragon and the gait of a tiger, he flashed forward a hundred meters in an instant, kicking up dust that filled the sky. He cut a dashing figure, full of youthful fire.

"Who's that guy? So ostentatious," one youth said indignantly.

"Chu Tianzhao? Why has he come to Shangyin Academy as well?!"

"A jianghu brat from some mountain village dares come to Shangyin to study? Can he even read ancient script?"

"Could it be that he wants to enter the literary ranking through the Dragon Gate Examination?"

"What the hell is it to you?" Hearing their discussion, Chu Tianzhao turned back, raised a brow, and said with sharp eyes and a smile, "Literature can set heaven and earth in order; martial prowess can leap the Dragon Gate. This is my great path to the summit!"

The city gates had only just opened, and they had not even traveled a single li before several hot-tempered youths began arguing, looking ready to come to blows.

Meanwhile, in the courtyard of an immortal workshop residence within Dongli Commandery, Xu Yan was still lying in bed, sleeping soundly.

Only when a servant knocked on his door did he groggily open his eyes, yawn, and stretch long and straight.

"Young Master Yan, it's already the hour of the dragon. Today is the day Shangyin opens its gates. If you leave too late and fail to reach the Plum Mountain bamboo forest before noon, you won't be able to enter the academy!" The servant sounded even more anxious than Xu Yan.

"Got it."

The day before, he had specifically instructed the servant to wake him at the hour of the dragon, afraid that he would sleep until noon again and miss the Cliff Sea Shangsi Festival, just as he had last year.

Xu Yan rubbed his eyes, rolled out of bed, and unhurriedly washed up. After straightening his blue-white Confucian robe, he finally made his way leisurely toward the eastern side of the city.