Chapter Nine: The Turmoil of the Test (Part Two)

“What’s the matter?” As expected, not long after Ji Mo spoke, two disciples dressed in the attire of the Moonwatch Sect strode over quickly.

The group of elegantly dressed young men and women, startled and anxious, dared not make any move. Zhao Changfeng cast a glance over them, then respectfully bowed to the disciples of the Moonwatch Sect and explained, “It’s nothing—just a misstep in the queue, someone accidentally trod on another’s foot. We didn’t mean to trouble the Immortal Masters; apologies for the inconvenience.”

The two disciples sized up Zhao Changfeng and Ji Mo’s party, their gazes finally settling on the well-dressed youths. Frowning, one said, “I don’t care who you are or where you come from. On the Moonwatch Sect’s grounds, you must abide by our rules.” The group nodded meekly, not daring to utter a word.

Seeing that the matter was trivial, and with the assessment period bringing crowds and chatter, the disciples preferred not to escalate things. They issued a warning and turned to leave. Only after the disciples’ figures vanished did the troublemakers glare menacingly at Ji Mo and his companions. “You’re tough—let’s see if you can stay out of our way next time.” With that, they stormed off in a huff.

Ji Mo watched their retreating backs and couldn’t help but curl his lip, inwardly grumbling. Zhao Changfeng noticed Ji Mo’s unconcerned look and felt compelled to advise, “Xiao Mo, if you’re fortunate enough to enter the sect, you’ll encounter all sorts of people. You mustn’t act so rashly and mischievously.”

“Uncle Changfeng, I understand,” Ji Mo replied, sticking out his tongue playfully.

“Father, those people were clearly bullying others. Why did you cover up for them in front of the Moonwatch Sect’s Immortal Masters?” Not far away, Zhao Hu, indignant, turned to confront his father, especially angered by the threats the troublemakers hurled as they left—such words stung the heart of the ten-year-old boy.

“Sigh, Huwa, you’re still young. There are many matters in this world that can’t be judged solely by right or wrong. Those youths were obviously from noble families, while we’re just ordinary villagers. If we provoke them without cause, what good could possibly come of it?” Zhao Changfeng sighed softly, his tone earnest as he spoke to the children.

“That’s right. Your father makes sense. If you boys really make it into the Moonwatch Sect, you must be cautious and never let your temper guide your actions. Remember, you’re children of farming folk—you can’t afford to cross the sons of great families.” Zhao Changhai chimed in, sharing the instinctive fear that ordinary villagers harbor toward those of noble lineage.

“I don’t agree. If we wish to walk the path of immortality, we must possess a fearless heart. If we shrink and compromise before the powerful, losing our spirit, how can we hope to go far on the immortal road?” Zhao Hu retorted, unable to accept their reasoning.

“You brat, mind your tongue…” Zhao Changfeng scolded, wanting to discipline his son, but for a moment, he couldn’t find the right words, leaving him quite vexed.

“Uncle Changfeng, I think Zhao Hu is right. If one lacks even basic courage, then even if he steps onto the immortal path, he’ll hardly progress far in cultivation,” Ji Mo said, blinking his bright eyes as he sided with Zhao Hu.

“To become a cultivator, courage is not enough. One must also possess self-awareness. If you know your strength is no match for another yet insist on challenging them, that’s not bravery—it’s folly!” Jiang Ping, who had been refined and composed throughout, suddenly interjected. She cast a cold glance at Ji Mo and Zhao Hu, her words sharp as knives.

Zhao Hu’s brows shot up. He glared fiercely at Jiang Ping, about to retort, but Ji Mo, standing behind him, tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “Let it be. It’s almost our turn.”

Zhao Hu looked ahead and saw that only a few remained before them; their group’s test would soon begin. There were seven in Ji Mo’s party. Zhao Tie stood first in line. The proctor for this group was a handsome young man in his twenties. When Zhao Tie's turn came, he didn’t even lift his head as he instructed, “Channel your energy and place your hand on the Spirit Testing Device.”

Zhao Tie gathered his energy, pressed his palm to the device, but it remained motionless. The proctor’s expression didn’t change. “Next.” Zhao Tie, prepared for this outcome, didn’t feel disappointed; he stepped aside with a carefree air.

Zhao Qin was next, far more nervous than Zhao Tie. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, channeled his energy, and slowly placed his palm on the device. Instantly, three faint rays of light appeared. Zhao Qin’s heart soared with joy, but before he could savor it, the rays vanished as swiftly as they had appeared. The handsome proctor raised an eyebrow. “Inferior three spiritual roots—unqualified. Next.”

Zhao Qin’s joy froze on his face, replaced by deep embarrassment. Zhao Wen, standing behind, nudged him gently to bring him back to his senses. Zhao Qin quietly retreated. The three rays had been too dim and fleeting for most of the crowd behind to notice; the proctor had announced his failure, so few paid attention.

Zhao Wen repeated Zhao Tie and Zhao Qin’s actions. His palm elicited no response from the device. Next came Zhao Sheng, then Zhao Hu. When Zhao Hu placed his hand, five rays of light appeared—brighter than Zhao Qin’s but only slightly so. Those behind exclaimed, “He has spiritual roots! He has spiritual roots!”

The proctor, however, frowned. “Lower grade five spiritual roots—unqualified. Next.” With his pronouncement, the exclamations died away. Zhao Hu scratched his head awkwardly and stepped aside.

All five boys from Zhao Family Village had completed their tests. Apart from Zhao Qin’s inferior three spiritual roots and Zhao Hu’s lower grade five spiritual roots, the other three failed to trigger even the faintest response. This outcome surprised everyone; the adults had never imagined their village would produce two children with spiritual roots, however meager—neither met the minimum requirements for cultivation.

Even so, the adults were elated, their eyes full of hope as they looked at Zhao Qin and Zhao Hu. Children with spiritual roots, even if unable to cultivate as immortals, would still go further in body cultivation than those without.

After the five boys finished, it was Jiang Ping’s turn. As soon as her hand touched the device, it lit up with a hum. This light was different from Zhao Hu and Zhao Qin’s—it flared brightly, shooting upward. The long queue stirred at once. “It’s lit! It’s lit! Another child has spiritual roots—look at that device! She’s sure to pass the test!”