Standing poised at the edge of the soaring white-marble dais, Xun Xie’er stepped forward, the azure silk of her robes fluttering like the crest of a tranquil wave.
The hundreds of thousands of crowd gathered across the central plaza fell into an instantaneous, reverent silence, every breath held in anticipation of her words.
She raised her slender, porcelain-white hands, channeling her peak 9th stage Nirvana Rebirth Realm spiritual energy to project her clear, melodious voice across the entirety of Glorious Heaven City.
"Esteemed sect masters, venerable elders, and fellow cultivators from across our sacred continent," Xun Xie’er began, her voice carrying an innate dignity that naturally commanded respect. "On behalf of the White Dragon Sect, the Chen Clan, and my lord husband, the White Dragon Emperor Chen Feng, I welcome you all to the grand opening of the Celestial Dragon Vault."
"For millennia, ancient inheritances have slept beneath our soil, and today, in the spirit of unity and shared prosperity, we invite the brightest talents of our world to step into its depths and claim their destiny."
A wave of respectful murmurs rippled through the sea of disciples, their eyes burning with intense ambition.
Xun Xie’er paused, her crystalline silver eyes scanning the massive gathering with great clarity before establishing the strict boundaries of the trial.
"However, an ancient trial demands ancient discipline. To preserve the structural balance of the secret realm’s primordial dragon veins and ensure the trial remains a fair crucible for our youth, strict entry rules have been ordained."
"First, only twenty core disciples and one Spirit Ascension Realm elder may enter per participating sect. No more, no less."
"Second, the total number of participating sects is strictly limited to ten sects."
Her tone shifted, turning cold, sharp, and unmistakably authoritative.
"Furthermore, let this rule be carved into the marrow of every participating elder, all elders enter solely as protectors and observers. They must not interfere in the disputes, resource contests, or trials of the younger generation unless their disciples’ lives face immediate, catastrophic annihilation."
"Any elder who dares to abuse their cultivation base to rob, suppress, or butcher junior disciples of other factions will be executed on the spot by our White Dragon Sect’s enforcers without trial."
The gathered sect leaders bowed their heads in solemn agreement, fully understanding the weight of her decree.
"The ten sects granted direct entry have already been chosen beforehand," Xun Xie’er continued, gesturing toward the nine massive profound arks hovering alongside the White Dragon Sect. "They are the ten illustrious forces who made the greatest, most glorious contributions during the monumental Holy War ten years ago, sacrificing their ancestors and warriors to defend our borders. Their spots have been bought with honor and ancestral blood."
She then turned her gaze toward the vast sea of independent rogue cultivators, traveling swordsmen, and minor clan heirs waiting below the stage.
"For all independent practitioners and unaligned cultivators who do not belong to the ten chosen sects, there are exactly one hundred spots reserved for individuals."
"These one hundred spots will not be handed out through lineage, wealth, or bribery, they are to be fiercely fought for in the central martial arenas by sunset today! The hundred strongest warriors left standing upon the rings when the final bell tolls shall earn their rightful place within the Celestial Dragon Vault!"
The moment her words settled over the plaza, an absolute frenzy detonated across the crowd.
Thousands of rogue cultivators roared with fiery excitement, unsheathing their blades, circulating their spiritual qi, and scrambling toward the designated battle arenas with manic enthusiasm.
Standing near the shaded pillar at the very back of the square, Shen Haoran watched with cold, amused detachment as the hundreds of thousands of people became ecstatic, shouting and clamoring over a few dozen entries into a primitive lower-realm ruin.
His lips curled slightly.
*
*
*
At this exact moment, thousands of leagues away in the middle of a vast, boundless ocean...
The salty sea breeze howled across a jagged, coral-encrusted island where crashing sapphire waves battered against jagged black cliffs.
Right on the rocky shore, surrounded by a massive circle of shouting, frenzied tribal women, Huo Yue was tied up tightly to a massive wooden cross forged from soaked driftwood and tangled sea kelp.
Her fiery red hair was messy, and her crimson eyes burned with pure, incandescent rage and profound disgust as she glared at the crowd surrounding her.
These women belonged to an isolated, primitive oceanic clan—the Tide-Caller Tribe—who fanatically worshipped an ancient entity known as the Sea Goddess.
Every single one of them was dressed in skimpy, revealing tribal garments made from iridescent sea-dragon scales, woven sea-grass strings, and polished oyster shells that barely covered their bronzed, sun-kissed skin.
Their bodies were painted with glowing blue wave sigils, and they held curved coral spears and shark-tooth daggers, dancing frantically to the heavy, primitive beat of hollow whale-bone drums.
The high priestess of the tribe, an older woman wearing a colossal crown of glowing nautilus shells and sea-snake fangs, stepped forward.
Her eyes were filled with venomous hatred as she pointed her crooked bone staff directly at Huo Yue’s nose.
"SPY! WRETCHED FOREIGN SPY!" the high priestess shrieked in a harsh, guttural dialect, spit flying from her lips. "Look at her hair! Look at that foul, unnatural crimson mane! She carries the filthy, wretched stench of the magma pits!"
"Vile cinder rat!" another tribal woman spat on the ground right in front of the cross, looking at Huo Yue with a face twisted in visceral, nauseating disgust. "A filthy, soot sucking lava bitch has dared to tread upon our sacred oceanic sanctuary! Look at the cursed heat radiating from her skin, she is an abomination in the eyes of the Deep Mother!"
"Those wretched, savage barbarians from the Volcano Island have finally broken the ancestral treaty!" dozens of skimpy warriors screamed in unison, thrusting their coral spears into the air. "They sent this fire whore to poison our sacred pearl reefs! They want war! The fire mongrels want to ignite the seas!"
"WAR! WAR WITH THE VOLCANO ISLAND!" the crowd howled in a bloodthirsty frenzy.
The high priestess raised her staff, her voice rising to an ear-piercing, hysterical crescendo.
"Cleanse the sea! Drown the cinder whore in the abyssal trench! Drag the cross into the waves and offer her burning flesh as a sacrificial tribute to appease the wrath of the Great Sea Goddess!"
"DROWN HER! FEED HER TO THE TIDES! LET THE SEA GODDESS DEVOUR HER SOUL!"
The tribal women chanted hysterically, preparing to lift the heavy wooden cross and cast it into the churning, shark-infested waters below.
Tied to the cross, with her cultivation temporarily sealed by the bizarre, deep-sea suppression kelp, Huo Yue didn’t beg, cry, or show a single shred of fear.
She simply glared at the screaming, half-naked priestess and the dancing mob with eyes blazing like twin supernovas, her teeth clenched in cold, murderous fury.
A tiny, imperceptible spark of her newly refined Heavenly Flame began to smolder quietly deep within her bone marrow, just waiting for the suppressive sea-kelp to dry under the blazing sun.
’Once I burn these damn weeds to ash,’ Huo Yue thought with vicious malice, ’I am going to boil this entire fucking ocean and turn every single one of you fish-smelling savages into roasted seafood.’
*
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Meanwhile, in a bustling, prosperous trade metropolis thousands of miles inland...
The streets of the city were alive with the clamor of street hawkers, luxurious carriages, and bustling pedestrians.
The architecture here was grand, dominated by soaring stone towers, jade-paved avenues, and lavish merchant guilds that rivaled the major hubs of the central empire.
Walking leisurely down the crowded stone pavement, entirely unbothered by the sudden spatial dispersion that had scattered their group across the continent, was Xu Xiansu.
She was dressed in simple, elegant black and orange robes that flowed gracefully around her slender frame.
She held a crisp, juicy red spirit apple in her delicate hand, casually taking a small, satisfying bite as the sweet juice burst across her tongue.
Crunch.
Her hands rested casually in her sleeves, her sharp, perceptive spatial senses effortlessly expanding to eavesdrop on the whispers, rumors, and private conversations echoing among the passing pedestrians, tavern patrons, and merchant scouts.
As she chewed thoughtfully, the hushed, excited chatter of two rich merchants walking a few paces ahead drifted clearly into her ears.
"Did you hear? The Myriad Treasures Auction House is hosting a secret grand auction tonight at the midnight hour!"
"Aye! Rumor has it that an ancient expedition team excavated a primordial relic from the ruins of the Sun-Fall Chasm, a flawless, unrefined Solar Phoenix Pearl containing the pure, concentrated primordial power of the sun itself! Even Spirit Ascension elders from the imperial sects are secretly rushing to place their bids!"
Crunch.
Xu Xiansu took another slow bite of her apple, coming to a brief halt beneath the shade of a flowering tea tree.
A mysterious pearl containing the ancient, concentrated power of the sun...
Her lips curled into a subtle, elegant, and thoroughly calculating smile.
That piqued her interest.
*
*
*
Qing Yan slowly opened his heavy, aching eyes, the harsh glare of the daylight immediately softened by the gentle, dappled canopy of silver-green leaves above him.
A cool, crisp breeze brushed against his bruised skin, carrying the soothing, earthy scent of ancient soil, wild grass, and the faint, mouth-watering aroma of crackling embers and cooking meat.
He blinked several times, his vision clearing as he found himself lying comfortably on a soft patch of moss under the generous shade of towering olive trees.
"You’re awake?" a voice sounded.
The sound of that voice was like the clear, melodic chiming of a celestial bell, slicing through the lingering fog in his mind and making his heart violently skip a beat.
Turning around in a hurry, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, and his breath instantly caught in his dry throat.
There, sitting gracefully on a smooth river stone barely three paces away, was his peerless goddess, Qian Yunxi.
She was dressed in her pristine, white robes that showed not a single crease despite the chaotic dimensional collapse that had torn the world apart.
Her long, golden hair was tied in a neat, refined ponytail, and the gentle afternoon light outlined her delicate profile with an almost sacred glow.
Beside her, a small, carefully contained campfire made of aromatic timber crackled quietly, where three plump, silver-scaled river fishes skewered on clean wooden twigs were roasted to a mouth-watering, golden-brown perfection, their savory oils dripping onto the coals with a satisfying sizzle.
Qian Yunxi smiled gently at him, her blue eyes curving into warm crescents as she picked up one of the skewers and handed a fish to him.
"Eat," she said softly, her voice carrying a comforting, tranquil cadence. "You need to recover, or else it will be hard for you to complete this trial."
Looking at the succulent, steaming fish being handed to him by her delicate, porcelain-white fingers, Qing Yan felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of heat rush to his eyes, and he genuinely felt like crying.
This is truly my goddess! he screamed in his soul, tears of pure, unadulterated gratitude pricking at the corners of his eyelids.
The terrifying memories of the past instantly dissolved into nothingness!
He felt like he could willingly endure another hundred sessions of horrific gorilla treatment, and crawl through mountains of broken glass if it meant she would look at him, coax him, and take care of him like this every single day!
"T-Thank you, Senior Sister Qian!" Qing Yan stammered, his hands trembling slightly as he carefully took the wooden skewer, treating it as though it were the most sacred, priceless divine treasure in the entire cosmos.
He took a small, eager bite. The crisp, charred skin gave way to tender, sweet, and spiritually dense meat that immediately released a gentle, warming current of pure qi into his parched stomach and battered meridians.
"It’s... it’s amazing!" Qing Yan exclaimed, his face lighting up with genuine awe. "I didn’t know Senior Sister possessed such incredible culinary skill! It tastes far better than the dishes served in the by some Gourmet Hunters in dining pavilions of the academy!"
Qian Yunxi let out a light, modest chuckle, turning back to adjust the remaining skewers on the fire with effortless poise.
"You flatter me, Junior Brother. When traveling through untamed wilderness and uncharted lower realms, basic survival arts and efficient resource management are fundamental necessities for any cultivator. It is nothing worth praising."
Seeing that she was in a pleasant, conversational mood, a spark of eager ambition ignited within Qing Yan’s chest.
He had spent months admiring her from afar within the academy, constantly watching her stand tall among the elite core circle of Shen Haoran, radiating brilliance and unmatched strategic intellect.
Now, miraculously stranded together in an isolated olive grove far from the prying eyes of the other disciples, this was his golden opportunity.
Qing Yan swallowed his mouthful of fish and leaned forward slightly, desperately trying to use this quiet moment to get to know her better.
"Senior Sister Qian," Qing Yan began, his tone filled with earnest curiosity, trying to sound as mature and dignified as possible. "I’ve always noticed how composed and insightful you are during clan discussions and tactical planning. May I ask... what kind of environment did you grow up in before entering the Imperial Academy? Did your clan specialize in ancient battlefield arrays or strategic administrative governance? You always seem to analyze everything ten steps ahead of everyone else."
Qian Yunxi took a delicate sip of clear spring water from a bamboo flask, her expression remaining entirely serene and unruffled.
"The academy’s curriculum naturally demands a broad understanding of logistics, formation theory, and statecraft," Qian Yunxi answered smoothly, her tone pleasant and informative, yet entirely devoid of any concrete details regarding her ancestry, family lineage, or specific clan background. "One simply learns to adapt when placed in positions that require rigorous planning. Any student who studies the standard tactical treatises in the Grand Library diligently can achieve the same level of analytical comprehension."
Qing Yan blinked, slightly disappointed by the textbook nature of the response, but refused to give up so easily.
He scratched his cheek and tried a more personal, intimate angle.
"Ah, of course! Hard work truly is the bedrock of genius," he nodded vigorously, trying to build rapport. "Then... what about your personal cultivation journey, Senior Sister? When you’re not busy managing faction affairs or refining your spiritual techniques, what kind of hobbies or interests do you enjoy? For instance, do you prefer playing the seven-string zither, composing poetry, or perhaps cultivating rare spiritual flora? If there is any particular tea or spirit flower you are fond of, I would gladly search the entire Ancient Heaven Star to find it for you!"
Qian Yunxi tilted her head slightly, offering him another faint, picture-perfect smile that was as dazzling as it was completely impenetrable.
"Cultivation requires singular focus, especially as one approaches higher bottlenecks," she replied calmly, her voice maintaining an impeccable, polite boundary. "My daily routines are mostly dictated by meditation schedules, foundation consolidation, and fulfilling my designated responsibilities within our circle. As for leisure, a quiet walk or reviewing scripture scrolls is more than sufficient. You should not waste your valuable trial time hunting for trivial flowers or extraneous trinkets, Junior Brother."
Every single answer she gave was impeccably polite, gentle, and utterly flawless in etiquette—yet, as the conversation continued, Qing Yan couldn’t help but feel an invisible, insurmountable wall of crystalline ice standing firmly between them.
Although Qian Yunxi answered every single question he asked without a hint of irritation, she didn’t reveal a single scrap of personal history, shared no private emotions, and spoke with the measured, detached professionalism of a senior guiding a passing stranger.
She treated him with the benevolent kindness one might extend to an injured bird found by the roadside, carefully maintaining an unbridgeable distance that left him unable to step even half an inch closer to her true inner world.
Yet, as he looked at her pristine, tranquil profile glowing in the fading embers of the campfire, Qing Yan took another bite of the roasted fish, his infatuated heart fluttering with helpless, boundless devotion all the same.
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