“Where… are we?”

  “Is that Nie Shuang?”

  “Meng Haoran?”

  Voices rose one after another, overlapping in confusion.

  The air was heavy with an eerie solemnity. A chill crawled up everyone’s spine.

  Nie Shuang and Meng Haoran locked eyes. They weren’t strangers—they’d met once before. Meeting again in this mysterious place sent faint ripples through their hearts.

  Meng Haoran swept his gaze across the surroundings and saw nearly twenty figures, all young. Some faces he recognized, others he didn’t. There were nervous boys and girls, some trembling with fear, others calm and composed.

  His brow furrowed. Spiritual sense surged from him like a tide.

  After training under Kong Nanfei and seizing the opportunities of the world’s transformation, Meng Haoran had stepped into the Nascent Soul realm. Among everyone present, his cultivation was the highest.

  “Zhao Zixu of Western Liang,” a young man in scaled armor announced, nodding toward Nie Shuang and Meng Haoran. He knew them both.

  Zhao Zixu glanced around and realized he might be the oldest here. For some reason, that realization brought a subtle pressure.

  Bzzz…

  Suddenly, a terrifying fluctuation rippled through the strange domain.

  Everyone felt a crushing weight settle over their hearts. They lifted their heads, searching the darkness.

  Far away, a faint dawn seemed to pierce the gloom. Thick spiritual energy churned and swirled like the first light of morning breaking the night.

  Immortal palaces and towers appeared, pavilions reflected in still waters, all wrapped in drifting mist.

  It was a true immortal realm.

  The twenty young people gasped in unison.

  “What is this place?”

  “My father once told me that besides the unfathomable Young Master, the Five Phoenixes also hide enigmatic immortals… Could it be that we’ve been chosen by an immortal?”

  Nie Shuang’s hair whipped in the wind, his blood and qi surging from years of training.

  “An immortal?” Meng Haoran murmured, hands clasped behind his back, his scholar’s robe fluttering.

  Zhao Zixu rolled his neck, sensing that something monumental was happening.

  In the crowd, Tang Guo shivered uncontrollably. What had she done? How had she ended up here?

  Suddenly—

  An overwhelming aura exploded outward, shaking the entire space with a deafening roar like mountains crumbling and oceans raging.

  The twenty youths trembled.

  Then they saw it: a colossal figure seated lazily, towering between heaven and earth.

  Blinding radiance poured from it. They couldn’t even open their eyes. Their souls quaked, and every single one involuntarily dropped to their knees.

  The might of an immortal.

  Unseeable. Unfathomable.

  “Such terrifying power… Is this really an immortal?” Nie Shuang lowered his head, horror flooding his heart.

  Meng Haoran tried to summon his righteous haoran qi to resist the pressure, but it was useless.

  “Remember this,” a calm, indifferent voice echoed through the void. “Only seven of you will receive the immortal fate.”

  Nie Shuang, Zhao Zixu, Meng Haoran—all of them froze.

  Immortal fate?

  Fight for it?

  They opened their mouths to speak, but the mysterious immortal gave them no chance.

  A soft chuckle drifted through the heavens.

  The world spun.

  When everything steadied, the twenty found themselves at the foot of an impossibly tall mountain that stabbed into the clouds, as though trying to pierce the vault of heaven.

  Spiritual light pulsed from the peak, tugging at their souls.

  Nie Shuang looked around. The immortal was gone.

  A chill ran through him. In front of that being, they were nothing but ants—toys to be played with.

  “We really did meet that legendary immortal…” he whispered.

  “The immortal fate… it must be at the top,” Nie Shuang said, eyes blazing. He took a deep breath and started climbing without hesitation.

  Meng Haoran and Zhao Zixu exchanged a glance, then followed. The others charged forward too.

  If the immortal fate waited atop the mountain, every second counted. From this moment on, they were rivals.

  The cliff was sheer and treacherous, offering almost no footholds.

  Nie Shuang channeled his spiritual energy and moved like a gecko across the rock face, his powerful body giving him an early advantage. But the higher he climbed, the harder it became. Soon he was panting, advancing inch by agonizing inch.

  High above, Lu Fan floated serenely, watching the twenty chosen youths with calm detachment.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  At the summit, seven radiant Physique Flowers bloomed—each one a seed of extraordinary potential. To claim one meant limitless future power… if you survived the ordeal.

  …

  After endless climbing, Nie Shuang finally spotted them: seven flowers swaying atop the peak, radiating mysterious fluctuations that pulled at his very soul.

  Every climber saw the same seven flowers, each one calling to them personally.

  These were geniuses; they understood instantly. Those flowers were the immortal fate the voice had spoken of.

  Fire ignited in their hearts. They climbed faster.

  Then—

  A terrifying pressure crashed down from the summit like an avalanche.

  Groans of pain echoed as the twenty were slammed flat against the cliff.

  One youth couldn’t bear it. He slid several meters, sweat pouring, staring in horror at the abyss below. One more slip and he would fall to his death.

  Cold dread gripped them all.

  They tried to use spiritual energy to climb, but the pressure scattered it like smoke.

  This was the trial.

  Nie Shuang gritted his teeth and kept moving, one torturous handhold at a time.

  The higher they went, the worse it became. Mocking voices began whispering in their ears.

  “Nie Shuang, give up. Even your father never believed in you. Why fight for something you’ll never get?”

  “Meng Haoran, just go back to your books. Why risk your life? One mistake and you’ll plummet into the abyss.”

  “Tang Guo, quit while you’re ahead. Hide behind your brother forever. You’re not cut out for this.”

  The taunts never stopped.

  Some hearts wavered.

  Suddenly, one youth let go. His despairing scream faded into the depths.

  Nineteen remained, hands white-knuckled on the rock, palms bleeding.

  They desperately wished it was an illusion, but the stone was cold and real, and so was the drop.

  The pressure grew heavier. The flowers seemed no closer—no matter how far they climbed, the distance stayed the same: five zhang, ten, fifty…

  More gave up. Some even looked relieved as they fell.

  Nie Shuang’s lips bled from clenching his jaw, but he refused to stop.

  Meng Haoran’s face was expressionless. Zhao Zixu grim and determined.

  To everyone’s shock, delicate little Tang Guo hadn’t quit. She hung at the very back, cheeks scratched raw, yet her eyes burned with unbreakable resolve.

  “I can’t keep relying on my brother forever. I have to protect myself. I have to get stronger. I won’t be his burden—I refuse to drag him down!”

  Tears mixed with blood on her face, but she climbed. Each pull left bloody handprints on the stone.

  Screams whipped past her, making her flinch, but she never let go.

  When the thirteenth person fell…

  The pressure suddenly vanished, like clouds parting after a storm.

  They surged upward.

  They crested the peak.

  Seven flowers danced in the mountain breeze, each glowing with different divine colors—gold, black, crimson…

  Seven people. Seven flowers.

  Tang Guo stood covered in blood, hands ruined, face torn—yet joy flickered in her heart.

  A wind swept across the summit, carrying the scent of absolute triumph.

  The flowers lifted from the ground, drifting toward their chosen owners.

  But the true pain had only just begun.

  …

  Dawn broke over the Five Phoenixes, yet an uneasy stillness hung in the air.

  Every major power was in chaos.

  Inside the Great Xuan Academy—

  Dantai Xuan, dressed in royal robes, paced slowly.

  “That Tang girl… vanished?”

  “Where did she go?”

  He took a deep breath. Tang Xiansheng had entrusted his daughter to the academy. If anything happened to her, relations with Southern Commandery would collapse.

  Especially since her older brother, Tang Yimo—one of the earliest genius cultivators, now reportedly in the Yin Spirit realm—doted on her obsessively. If he learned she was missing, he would tear the academy apart.

  “Search the entire capital! Mobilize every soldier! Find Tang Guo!” Dantai Xuan ordered helplessly.

  He glanced at Mo Ju, worry in his eyes. “Do you think… this could be the work of that cult?”

  Mo Ju waved his feather fan and smiled faintly. “No need to worry, Your Majesty. The cult wouldn’t dare infiltrate the academy.”

  “Perhaps some strange power took her away.”

  Strange power—maybe an immortal’s doing. Mo Ju kept that thought to himself.

  The capital turned upside down. Black Tortoise Guards searched door to door.

  Time passed. No trace.

  Then reports flooded in from every commandery: genius youths vanishing without a clue.

  A day later, Tang Xiansheng received the news in Southern Commandery.

  His heart clenched, but he stayed calm. After another day with no leads, he sent word to Tang Yimo.

  The moment Tang Yimo emerged from seclusion, demonic energy exploded around him like a storm.

  He crossed the Dragon Gate and descended upon the Great Xuan palace.

  BOOM!

  Inside the Azure Dragon Gate, terrifying aura surged like a tidal wave.

  His face was dark, panic flickering beneath the rage. He had believed the academy was the safest place for his sister—that was why he’d allowed her to study there.

  Mo Ju appeared.

  “Where is my sister?” Tang Yimo’s voice was ice.

  Dantai Xuan arrived in person, surrounded by guards.

  He knew Tang Yimo well. In the early days of cultivation, the man had been dazzling. Though he later faded from the spotlight, his strength was undeniable.

  Mo Ju spoke calmly, eventually convincing Tang Yimo to wait.

  “If anything happens to her, this entire academy will bury her with it,” Tang Yimo said coldly, killing intent rolling off him.

  He wasn’t unreasonable. He waited.

  Three days passed.

  Still no sign of Tang Guo.

  Even Dantai Xuan grew anxious.

  Mo Ju began to doubt his own theory.

  BOOM!

  The academy’s training ground cracked apart.

  Black demonic qi twisted like dragons and serpents. The earth became ruin.

  Students fled under crushing pressure.

  Tang Yimo stood at the center, hair whipping wildly, skin blood-red, demonic qi billowing. He had opened five gates of his Eight Meridian Demonic Technique, looking every inch an archdevil.

  Dantai Xuan’s expression shifted. He ordered the students evacuated and surrounded Tang Yimo with layers of Black Tortoise Guards.

  Was the alliance with Southern Commandery going to shatter over one girl?

  And yet—he couldn’t blame Tang Yimo. The fault was theirs.

  “Bring Ninth Lotus,” he said heavily.

  Lu Jiulian arrived shortly after.

  “Don’t hold back. Fight me,” she said simply, glancing at Tang Yimo.

  BOOM!

  The training ground exploded. Stones hung suspended in the air.

  Tang Yimo roared and charged like a black beast.

  Explosions rocked the academy as their battle spilled beyond the grounds.

  “If my sister is dead, I’ll slaughter every last one of you!” Tang Yimo’s voice thundered through the ruins.

  “Good,” Lu Jiulian replied calmly.

  The clash shook the heavens.

  …

  Within the preaching platform, Lu Fan watched the transformations atop the Physique Mountain with detached interest.

  Seven youths were cocooned in the flowers’ energy, screams echoing daily as their flesh and bones were reforged in agony.

  This was the final trial.

  Seven days later—

  Nie Shuang was the first to finish. He sat cross-legged at the summit, feeling power coursing through every drop of blood.

  “Sacred King Physique…” he whispered, opening eyes sharp as blades. A single breath sliced hundreds of meters through the air.

  Meng Haoran’s blood-soaked robes fluttered. “Innate Dao Physique,” he said with a faint smile.

  Tang Guo opened her eyes, lashes trembling, cheeks flushed with divine light despite the gore. “Divine King Physique…”

  BOOM!

  The sacred mountain began to collapse.

  The colossal immortal figure reappeared, pressure forcing even the newly awakened physiques to their knees.

  The thirteen who had failed watched enviously as radiant auras bloomed around the seven.

  A giant hand descended, gently touching each head.

  The thirteen felt the world spin.

  When they opened their eyes, they were home—memories of the trial erased.

  …

  Atop a snowy peak, Kong Nanfei opened his eyes. The blizzard behind him stilled.

  Meng Haoran reappeared.

  “Back?” Kong Nanfei asked.

  “Yes.” Meng Haoran nodded.

  Kong Nanfei returned to meditation without another word.

  Meng Haoran scratched his head. Master really wasn’t worried at all…

  …

  Back at the academy, Tang Yimo and Lu Jiulian’s battle had turned half the grounds to rubble.

  Demonic qi dragons coiled in the sky. Giant lotus blossoms spun overhead.

  Tang Yimo walked on air, skin purple, black runes crawling across his face. He no longer suppressed his technique—each clash pushed him further, gates opening one after another.

  Lu Jiulian’s green robes fluttered. Facing a monster who wasn’t born with a special physique yet rivaled one, even she felt pressure.

  Suddenly she turned her head.

  “She’s back.”

  Tang Yimo froze mid-attack.

  In the ruins below, a point of white light flared.

  Divine radiance pierced the heavens.

  When it faded, Tang Guo stood covered in blood, looking up in bewilderment.

  “Brother!”

  At that single word, the oceanic demonic qi around Tang Yimo melted away like spring snow.

  Lu Jiulian’s gaze fell on the girl. Sensing the new power within her, her pupils contracted ever so slightly.