Chapter 78 Utter Disillusionment

The young man with the blue mark on his face sped swiftly on his broad sword, and in no time arrived at the platform plaza atop the inverted peak. Here, flying swords continually descended, dropping off several passengers before taking off again, and those who were set down were all newcomers who had come, having heard the news, to attend the mountain’s entry ceremony.

Shujian Mountain was a sect devoted to the way of the sword. Naturally, they revered swords, treating them as secondary lives to be cherished and protected with utmost care. The disciples seen on Shujian Mountain were all uniformly dressed in white, each carrying a flying sword on their back.

Yet it was precisely this most ordinary attire that further accentuated the extraordinary and otherworldly bearing of Shujian Mountain’s disciples.

After setting Qin Feng and the Daoist Qiu Huzi down on the platform, the blue-marked youth turned and flew off with haste, obviously eager to snatch up the next business opportunity.

“You two, come over here and line up properly! Stand in order, one by one!”

Qin Feng had barely reacted when a stern voice rang out, making his eardrums throb. Turning his head, he saw a middle-aged steward with a long sword on his back, face severe and intimidating, pointing at him and Qiu Huzi, commanding them to fall in.

Qiu Huzi seemed quite familiar with the proceedings. After a round of nodding and bowing, he headed off toward the large crowd ahead and took his place at the end of the queue, waiting patiently.

Qin Feng followed behind Qiu Huzi and joined the line as well.

Making use of the queue, Qin Feng glanced around. There were indeed many who had come to pay respects to the mountain; in just this short while, hundreds had arrived, and the numbers were still growing.

Because Qin Feng was rather tall, he stood out among the crowd, his view unimpeded. Qiu Huzi, on the other hand, was short and was now tiptoeing, craning his neck to look ahead.

Qin Feng looked as well.

Ahead stood a massive boulder, oddly shaped—neither round nor square, angular and jagged, difficult to describe. Yet it periodically flashed with five-colored lights, which gave Qin Feng a sudden realization.

It seemed they were testing for spiritual roots.

To join Shujian Mountain and cultivate immortality, one had to possess at least some spiritual roots; those without would be summarily driven from the mountain.

However, Qin Feng observed carefully and found that everyone who had made it this far did possess spiritual roots—only the strength varied. Moreover, the lowest level among the hopefuls was at least fifth stage of the Mortal Astral Realm.

“I wonder if Huo Siyen is here?” Qin Feng searched the crowd. There were too many people, and he looked for quite some time before finally spotting Huo Siyen.

However, the area where Huo Siyen stood was entirely separate from his own. On this vast plaza, his side was packed with people, while over where she was, only a few dozen occupied about a fifth of the square. Some appeared old, some middle-aged, and some exceptionally young, but what they all shared was an unfathomable depth of cultivation.

They must be the so-called elders of Shujian Mountain.

Huo Siyen stood behind a middle-aged woman in palace robes, her head bowed, deep in thought. As Qin Feng’s gaze fell upon her, Huo Siyen suddenly sensed something and looked up sharply in his direction. When she recognized Qin Feng, her eyes froze in surprise, clearly never expecting to see him at Shujian Mountain.

Ahead, Qiu Huzi turned to glance in the direction of Qin Feng’s gaze, his small eyes glinting craftily. “Brother Qin, did you spot an acquaintance?”

Earlier, they had exchanged a few words atop the flying sword, and with Qin Feng having taken a copy of Qiu Huzi’s “Nine Transmutations of Heavenly Fire,” their previous grudge had been resolved. Qiu Huzi was gregarious by nature and now even called Qin Feng “brother.” They had exchanged names as well—Qiu Huzi was surnamed Qiu, given name Chuji, though Qin Feng preferred to call him Qiu Huzi.

Qin Feng nodded. The other smiled mysteriously and ventured, “Let me guess, your friend over there must have outstanding talent?”

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow, looking at Qiu Huzi.

“Haha! Let me tell you, brother Qin, those few standing over there are all prodigies, already selected by the elders of Shujian Mountain to be accepted directly as inner disciples.”

Qiu Huzi sighed, his tone tinged with both envy and admiration.

“Oh? Then what about the rest of us?”

“We’re just the general pool, commoners and nobodies. How can we compare with those chosen ones? See that big rock ahead? That’s the Immortal Inquiry Stone. First, it tests our spiritual root attributes. Anyone with three or more attributes is admitted into the sect. Once the elders select their disciples, they’ll personally help them choose a suitable flying sword from Burial Sword Mountain, or even craft one to order.”

“I see!” Qin Feng nodded, then asked, “What about those with four or five attributes?”

“Pending!” Qiu Huzi replied with a sly smile.

“Pending? What do you mean?”

Qin Feng was puzzled and pressed further—his grandfather had already tested his roots: five-color mixed spiritual root, so he was quite concerned with this matter.

“It means you move to the second round—testing swords at Burial Sword Mountain. If you succeed and your identity checks out, you qualify as an outer disciple. If not, you’re driven down the mountain.”

“Testing swords?”

Qin Feng was taken aback, then quickly understood.

Flying swords possess spirit and often choose their own masters. The better the cultivator’s aptitude, the higher the chance of a sword’s recognition. Shujian Mountain’s disciples’ cultivation was all based on their swords, so if a flying sword recognized you, you stayed; if not, you were sent away.

This approach gave aspirants a second chance, but Qin Feng knew how hard it was for a sword to accept a master. Among those eliminated in the first round, perhaps one in a hundred might succeed.

It seemed that gaining entry to Shujian Mountain was no easy feat.

While Qin Feng mulled this over, a commotion arose ahead, drawing the attention of both him and Qiu Huzi.

“Dual attributes, dual attributes, ha ha!”

A tall, thin youth in yellow was laughing uncontrollably, evidently shocked by his own spiritual root result. Dual attributes meant he could be taken directly as a disciple by an elder and rise rapidly—what joy!

“Congratulations, fellow Daoist!”

“Congratulations, junior brother!”

Even the previously stern stewards of Shujian Mountain now wore broad smiles, congratulating him warmly and even changing how they addressed him.

It was understandable—dual attribute disciples were extremely rare. Once accepted as an inner disciple, it would only be decades before he became a notable expert himself.

Sure enough, a middle-aged elder with a long beard immediately took him as a disciple, and the yellow-clad youth obediently joined the elder’s side.

A sigh sounded from Qiu Huzi up ahead, his face showing envy but also anticipation.

This action piqued Qin Feng’s curiosity. Qiu Huzi had already come twice, clearly of poor aptitude and expelled from Shujian Mountain before. Knowing he stood little chance, why would he return a decade later?

Could it be his aptitude had changed? Had his five-color mixed root turned into a heavenly root as grandfather once said?

Qin Feng shook his head. If that were the case, Qiu Huzi would not be here fighting his way through the crowd.

A curious fellow indeed—he must be hiding some secret.

Qiu Huzi had sparked Qin Feng’s interest.

The testing proceeded steadily, but the crowd was large. Among the hundreds tested so far, only one had dual attributes, three had triple attributes, and the rest were all four or five-attribute mixed roots—the five-attribute ones made up the bulk. After waiting for about the time it takes to burn one incense stick, it was Qiu Huzi’s turn ahead of Qin Feng.

Under Qin Feng’s gaze, Qiu Huzi placed both hands on the Immortal Inquiry Stone. After a moment, it flashed red, then gold, green, yellow, and blue—five colors, each uneven, the lowest quality five-attribute mixed root.

“Five-attribute mixed root, pending. Next!”

The steward in charge of testing barely lifted his eyelids, motioning for Qin Feng to step up.

Qiu Huzi, unsurprised by the result, cheerfully left the stone and joined the pending group.

Then it was Qin Feng’s turn.

He placed his palm on the stone.

Five-color mixed root—exactly as his grandfather had said. Yet not far from the testing steward, an elderly white-haired man happened to glance at Qin Feng’s perfectly balanced three attributes and uneven yellow and blue. Surprise flickered in his eyes, followed by a tinge of regret.

Qin Feng looked toward Huo Siyen. She had already turned away, and he could easily guess that her face must now be filled with disappointment.

His bloodline soul was ruined; his roots were only a five-color mixed root.

His body was broken, his arts unfinished.

In her eyes, he had finally been completely dismissed.