Chapter Eighteen: The First Trial of the Divine Transcendents

Xing Wuyai listened to Lingxuzi’s words and ignored the crowd, standing where he was and gazing up at the imposing and majestic Huanhua Hall before him.

Though Xing Wuyai’s reputation had grown, making him a dominant figure, for various reasons this was his first time setting foot on the grounds of Dan Cliff Sect, his first time seeing its main hall up close… and, to be frank, it didn’t seem all that extraordinary.

Lingxuzi saw that he wasn’t moving and felt unable to press him further. Truth be told, were it not for the presence of a Nascent Soul Elder in the sect, Lingxuzi would have been somewhat daunted by the prospect of dealing with this madman. Back when both of them were in the late stage of the Nascent Soul, Lingxuzi knew he was no match for Xing Wuyai, not to mention now that Xing had stepped into the terrifying Divine Transformation stage.

Thinking of this, Lingxuzi felt a pang of bitterness. The distance between Nascent Soul and Divine Transformation was but a single step, yet a chasm as vast as heaven and earth. Though Jin Donglou had been guiding him with meticulous care, he had struggled for a hundred years, only to sink deeper into the late Nascent Soul stage, unable to break free.

Just then, the curtain of Xing Wuyai’s treasure carriage stirred, and another person emerged.

Xing Wuyai, ever the solitary figure, had unexpectedly brought a companion this time? Fei Chengji was greatly surprised; with a glance, he determined that the person stepping out of the carriage was a companion of the old monster Xing, not a servant.

The newcomer wore a splendid black sable hooded cloak, the brim of the hood concealing the upper half of his face. Fei Chengji could not discern his features, but standing before this person, he inexplicably felt a chill—an intuition that the man’s cultivation far surpassed his own.

As the man in black stepped out of the carriage, he bent slightly, and as if appearing solely to pay his respects, he bowed courteously to Lingxuzi, his manners entirely devoid of arrogance.

Without waiting for Lingxuzi to speak, he turned to Xing Wuyai and said, “Brother Xing, Sect Master Ling speaks wisely. It’s getting late; let us hurry into the hall.”

Hong Jian’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the man who had just stepped out. He had been with her the previous night, promising that after their farewell, they would never meet again. How could he suddenly appear here? Her heart thudded wildly, her right hand clenched into a small fist pressed against her mouth, and her two rows of snow-white teeth bit tightly into her thumb.

She felt no pain, only stared fixedly at his back, her thoughts racing: He said he lived in the Endless Sea, so appearing here alongside a Divine Transformation expert was not so strange. Would he notice her? Was it appropriate for others to know of his guidance to her? If he pretended not to recognize her, she would treat him as a stranger; after all, he always appeared at night, hiding and calculating their Moonlight Pills.

With this little secret, Hong Jian couldn’t help but let her mind wander. The man in black, together with Xing Wuyai and accompanied by Lingxuzi, strode into Huanhua Hall.

The sudden appearance of a Divine Transformation cultivator, and in such a manner, naturally stirred murmurs among the waiting Qi Refining disciples. The delegations from all sects became somewhat disordered, but the supervising elders promptly quelled the commotion. Clearly, those they had been waiting for had arrived, and the trial for everyone was about to begin.

Indeed, after only half a cup of tea’s time, the Foundation Establishment disciples serving in the hall filed out in succession. These Dan Cliff Sect members all bore solemn expressions, each holding a blue-grey scroll, lining up before the delegations of each sect.

The one who stopped before Fei Chengji was a young man with a sickly appearance. He first bowed to Fei, addressing him as “Uncle,” then nodded to Qu Changhe as a greeting, before turning to the crowd. He coughed once, drawing the attention of over a hundred people, and spoke in a clear voice: “Everyone, the elders inside have given instructions. What we hold are trial diagrams personally crafted by Sect Master Dai of the Sigil Sect. Once activated, a curtain of light will appear—this is your trial barrier. Please approach in order. Those who cross the barrier within a quarter hour may enter the hall and receive guidance from the elders. Any who fail to cross in time may leave on their own accord. Is that clear?”

Hong Jian recognized the speaker—a pale, listless man who was famous in the Dan Cliff Sect’s Water Spiritual Root branch. He was Yan Changqing’s beloved disciple from Late Tide Peak, named Jian Hui.

He had reached mid-Foundation Establishment in just thirty years, becoming renowned. But ten years ago, his cultivation collapsed; not only did he fail to advance, he regressed to the early Foundation stage. His shortcuts and self-destructive cultivation methods were exposed. Though he appeared to have years ahead to recover, in truth, his prospects were bleak. Such a ruined genius pained his elders, who now used him as a cautionary tale for future disciples.

Jian Hui and his peers activated their scrolls, and circular, arched gates of light appeared before each group, shrouded in white mist, a tangible membrane hanging to the ground. The trial barriers were unfamiliar to the Qi Refining apprentices, causing an uproar as no one wished to be the first to test the path.

Still, the queue had its order. From Dan Cliff Sect, the first to step forward was Zhang Yu, top scorer in the Wood Spiritual Root trial.

Hong Jian glanced at the old man Fei Chengji, who had stepped aside with a stern face, and silently watched Zhang Yu approach the gate of light. His steps showed hesitation, and she worried for him.

Due to Chen Zaizhi’s mishap, Zhang Yu had to represent Dan Cliff Sect as the first contestant, bearing immense pressure. The later contestants might not draw as much attention, but for him, even being slower than other sects would be a humiliating failure.

Under the concerned gazes of the Dan Cliff Sect members, Zhang Yu raised his hand to probe the light barrier. It seemed very elastic; his fingertip flashed with green light—“Greenwood Art”—and sank into the membrane. He frowned as he felt it, withdrew his hand, changed his palm to a fist, enveloped his arm in verdant energy, and suddenly punched straight at the light barrier.

The youths craning their necks behind Hong Jian couldn’t help but buzz with excitement. Zhang Yu’s fist penetrated the light curtain, but shockingly, on the other side, his fist did not appear—the membrane silently swallowed his arm.

Startled, Zhang Yu quickly retreated and retrieved his arm unharmed, though his expression soured. Clearly, his experiment had failed.

Just then, a loud “bang” sounded from not far away. Everyone turned to see, and in the northwest corner before the hall, a red-clad youth was cursing as he got up from the ground. The scene quieted; many from Dan Cliff Sect recognized the youth—Jiang Yan, a seventh-level Qi Refining disciple of the Cloud Step Sect with a Gold Spiritual Root. No one expected him to make such a commotion at the light barrier, and the spectators were startled.

Hong Jian stood on tiptoe, but distance and the crowd blocked her view; the situation on Jiang Yan’s side was unclear, but this was clearly a failure. The next to attempt from Cloud Step Sect would be Shi Qingxiang—perhaps there would be a chance to exchange a word.

As she let her thoughts wander, a sudden cheer erupted from the left side of Dan Cliff Sect’s group, followed by an announcement: “Lin Suyao of Sigil Sect has passed the trial.”