Chapter Five: Climbing the Mountain

The number nine is considered the utmost in heaven and earth, thus Qingxuan’s choice to open his sect’s gates on this day was well-founded. Despite a wave of spontaneous elimination, at least thirty people remained unharmed. Among them, whether in talent or temperament, there was much to commend; some, like the scions of distinguished families, were accompanied by skilled guardians.

Shen Lian was neither the first nor the last to arrive. As the morning sun rose, the clouds enshrouding the mountain gate ebbed and flowed, mist gradually fading to reveal a path ascending the mountain.

The first to enter was a scholar named Lu. He was not from any renowned family, his origins unknown, and, like Shen Lian, one of the three most enigmatic individuals in this gathering. Some had tried to test him, but he always emerged unscathed; those who tried, left in shame the next day. Shen Lian surmised that this scholar Lu must possess some skill in manipulating hearts.

Though Lu appeared merely a scholar, he was tall and carried the air of a heroic poet. Nothing unusual happened when he entered, thus others followed in succession.

The second mysterious figure was a thin, ordinary-looking youth, timid as if afraid to speak loudly. He possessed a peculiar trait: he was easily overlooked. Even Shen Lian, keen as he was, would be startled each time this youth quietly took a seat beside him at meals. Had Shen Lian not observed him for a long while, he might have forgotten what the youth looked like. One could easily lose track of his whereabouts.

Few noticed the youth’s oddities; only Shen Lian and a handful paid attention. Thus, among the three most mysterious, the youth had little reputation. As Shen Lian stepped onto the mountain path, he habitually glanced back, and though surprised many times, was still startled to see the youth.

The youth’s pace was slow, showing no sign of martial prowess, and he even stumbled once. Yet he rose calmly and continued up the stone steps. Mist swirled, concealing those who entered. Though thirty entered together, once inside it felt as if they had stepped into separate realms; none could see the others.

Those outside the gate could not glimpse within, nor could those inside know the fate of the others.

From the very first day, people began tumbling out from the mountain path, battered and bloodied. If one paid attention, they’d see that all those expelled had killed in the town below. Twenty-two fell in total—less than ten remained. Yet everyone seemed to overlook a crucial fact: the mountain gate remained open for half a year.

Atop Qingxuan’s summit lay the Celestial Pool, shrouded in drifting white mist. Two elders sat beneath a tree beside the pool, playing chess—one in scarlet robes, the other in gray.

Shen Lian was the first to reach the summit. He was not surprised; his powerful spirit and mastery of the “Natural Heart-Calming True Solution of the Supreme Purity Spiritual Treasure” made him resistant to illusions when contemplating the innate deity. The so-called “Path of Heart Inquiry” was, in essence, founded on illusion. The test, meant for those yet to enter the immortal ranks, could not be too profound.

He saw the two elders, who ignored him and continued their game. Three days and nights passed, and Shen Lian saw no one else emerge. An ordinary person might be pleased with their own excellence, but Shen Lian harbored no pride, for he knew his own limits best.

Life atop the mountain was harsh; the cold mist from the Celestial Pool was so biting that Shen Lian had to constantly channel his energy to withstand it. Though all eight meridians were open and his vitality ceaseless, three days and nights without food or drink left his internal energy severely depleted. He could now absorb a little of the world’s essence, but not enough to replenish himself.

He would have fared better remaining on the Path of Heart Inquiry, where consumption was far less. He’d questioned the two elders, but they offered no answers—there was no telling how long he’d have to wait.

Beyond the Path of Heart Inquiry, there were no other routes; the surroundings were a chasm impossible to cross—unless Shen Lian could fly.

The wind atop the mountain was fierce; Shen Lian dared not let his spirit leave his body, lest it be scattered and lost forever.

Waiting was not the hardest trial; the worst was waiting in the unknown, with no end in sight. Such a test could drive even the strongest hero to despair.

Shen Lian, being human, had feelings; the pervasive despair brought him to the brink of madness. Yet reason compelled him to remain calm.

His chest burned like fire, his mind icy cold. He knew he was teetering on the edge of a spiritual breakdown, nearly ready to descend the mountain and abandon his immortal fate. Yet a premonition warned him: if he left, his chance at immortality would vanish.

Rationally, he understood that immortal fates were not exclusive to Qingxuan.

Shen Lian watched the elders play chess; none could guess that beneath his calm exterior, he was on the verge of erupting like a volcano.

Gradually, he shifted his focus to the chessboard. Each move took a long time. His skill was not exceptional, but he could follow the game; black and white stones were evenly matched, the situation tangled and intricate, with layers within layers, knots upon knots.

This complexity surpassed any internal energy route he knew.

Shen Lian remained silent, absorbed in the game. As the board neared its end, the space for black and white dwindled—yet victory was elusive.

Sometimes, as he observed a stone’s placement, a corresponding acupoint on his body would throb violently. Sometimes black, sometimes white—it varied.

When he linked the black and white stones, the throbbing acupoints connected, forming pathways through his body.

Human acupoints are as numerous as stars, their functions often unknown.

He mapped the chessboard’s stones to his own acupoints—over three hundred in total—more than a hundred of which he managed to connect. His restless internal energy grew calm, and the anger in his heart subsided.

Only now did he realize that the chess game contained profound routes for cultivating energy.

But before he could finish observing, the elder in scarlet robes swept his hand, scattering the board.

The gray-robed elder cursed, “You were about to lose, what’s the meaning of this?”

The scarlet-robed elder stroked his beard and smiled, “The three seedlings are all here; it’s time to report to the sect master.” He wore an expression of resignation to fate.

The gray-robed elder glanced aside; behind Shen Lian, the scholar and the frail youth had arrived.

As for the others on the Path of Heart Inquiry, all had been eliminated. Whether the remaining time would yield seven more to make a full ten was unknown.