Chapter 6: Xianchang, I Want To Take The Assessment Again!

Taiyi Immortal City’s central plaza—the Disciple Acceptance Ceremony was drawing to a close.

Most of the boys and girls who had passed the Spirit Testing Pillar examination had already been ushered through Taiyi Gate’s mountain entrance, leaving only a scattered few still queuing.

The several Taiyi Gate disciples on the high platform had begun packing up, preparing to wrap things up.

“There should be no one left, right?”

The young record-keeping disciple asked, tidying the register.

“Just about.”

The senior white-robed disciple glanced at the sky.

“Pack it up, get ready to—”

“Immortal! Wait! Wait for me!”

A shout rang out from the edge of the plaza.

Everyone turned toward the sound. A youth came sprinting over, gasping for breath—it was Chu Sheng.

The record-keeping disciple frowned.

“You again? Didn’t we already tell you? You have no Spiritual Root. Stop causing trouble!”

Chu Sheng jogged up to them, braced his hands on his knees and caught his breath, then raised his head, his gaze resolute.

“Immortal, I might have been in poor condition just now. Please let me test again!”

“Test a hundred times and it won’t matter”

The record-keeping disciple waved him off impatiently.

“No Spiritual Root means no Spiritual Root. That is the law of the Heavenly Dao—it can’t be changed by whether you’re having a good day or a bad one.”

“But what if—”

Chu Sheng blinked,

“The Spirit Testing Pillar made an error?”

The record-keeping disciple laughed despite himself.

“The Spirit Testing Pillar is a sect treasure, refined three thousand years ago. It has never made an error!”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

Chu Sheng pressed on.

“How about this—shall I make a wager with you, Immortal?”

“A wager?”

The record-keeping disciple’s interest was piqued.

“Wager what?”

“If I truly have no Spiritual Root, I’ll pay you 10,000 taels of silver.”

Chu Sheng pulled a stack of silver notes from his chest—the last of the assets he had “inherited” from Xiongfeng Bandit Camp and the merchant caravan.

The record-keeping disciple’s eyes lit up.

Though he had already reached the 5th level of Qi Refinement, he was still only an outer disciple within the sect, with a meager monthly Spirit Stone stipend.

10,000 taels of silver was an enormous sum in the mortal world—enough to be exchanged for a good amount of cultivation resources.

“And if you do have a Spiritual Root?”

The record-keeping disciple asked.

“Then you just give me some little trinket as a prize—that’ll be enough.”

Chu Sheng smiled with an expression of artless sincerity.

The record-keeping disciple was tempted, but still hesitated.

At that moment, the white-robed disciple who had not spoken until now finally opened his mouth.

“Fine, let him test once more. It’s better for him to see the result with his own eyes and put this to rest.”

He wasn’t after the silver—he simply saw how stubborn Chu Sheng was, and wanted the boy to witness the outcome firsthand and give up the idea.

“Deal!”

The record-keeping disciple slapped his thigh.

“I’ll take your wager! But if you can’t produce the silver—”

“The notes are right here—honest to the young and old alike!”

Chu Sheng slapped the silver notes down on the table.

The record-keeping disciple reactivated the Spirit Testing Pillar.

“Come then.”

The crowd of onlookers gathered again, pointing and whispering.

“Isn’t that the kid with no Spiritual Root from earlier?”

“Why is he back?”

“He’s even making a bet with an Immortal? Truly doesn’t know his place…”

Chu Sheng took a deep breath, then slowly pressed his palm against the jade pillar.

This time, he deliberately guided the 5 dim specks of light within his Dantian, channeling every bit of his “spiritual energy”—however faint and discolored—into the pillar.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Just as the record-keeping disciple was about to announce the result, the jade pillar suddenly lit up!

Gold, green, blue, red, yellow—5 colors of light intertwined and blazed forth. The brightness was not high, but their presence was undeniably real.

“F-five Spiritual Roots?”

The record-keeping disciple’s eyes went wide.

“How is this possible?!”

The white-robed disciple was stunned as well. He stepped forward quickly and examined the pillar closely.

“It is indeed Five Spiritual Roots—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth.”

He turned to look at Chu Sheng, his expression complicated.

“There was clearly no reaction at all just now. How is it that now…”

Chu Sheng grinned.

“Didn’t I say the Spirit Testing Pillar might have made an error? Or maybe I really was just in poor condition earlier.”

In truth, this was the Spiritual Root he had obtained by defying fate—wrested from Huang Sanye as a granted title.

But such a thing was too world-shaking to speak aloud. He would never say it.

The record-keeping disciple stared at the 5-colored light, his expression shifting through a storm of emotions.

He had lost the wager, and now owed the boy a “little trinket.”

More critically, the Spirit Testing Pillar had truly “made an error”, even if it had only missed a single person’s Spiritual Root, word getting out would still be bad for his reputation.

“It seems you do have some immortal affinity.”

The white-robed disciple said slowly.

“However, Five Spiritual Roots…are Waste Roots in the end. Cultivation will be arduous, and you will most likely struggle to break past the middle stage of Qi Refinement your entire life. Do you still wish to proceed to the next examination?”

“Yes! Of course yes!”

Chu Sheng nodded vigorously.

Since he had come all this way, he couldn’t leave empty-handed. Even if he ended up as nothing but a menial servant, he could still get inside Taiyi Gate—the foremost sect of the Righteous Path, rich in resources, and perfectly suited to someone like him playing the role of “undercover agent.”

“Very well.”

The white-robed disciple produced a wooden tablet and handed it to Chu Sheng.

“Tomorrow at the hour of Chen, bring this tablet to the mountain gate and gather for the second round of the examination.”

“Many thanks, Senior Immortal!”

Chu Sheng took the wooden tablet as though it were a priceless treasure.

Then he turned to face the record-keeping disciple, smiling as he stretched out his hand.

“Immortal, about that matter…”

The record-keeping disciple’s face darkened.

With so many onlookers watching, he couldn’t very well go back on his word.

“Hmph!” 

He reached into his chest and produced a small celadon porcelain bottle, tapping out a pale yellow medicinal pill.

“This is a Bone Strengthening Pill—it has the effect of building physical constitution in mortals. Someone with Waste Roots like you, even if you enter the sect, will amount to nothing more than a menial disciple, destined for dirty and exhausting work. Take it.”

Chu Sheng accepted the pill and raised it to his nose for a sniff.

A rich medicinal fragrance hit him—it truly was a fine thing. Though it would be of little use to his current level of cultivation, something was better than nothing.

“Many thanks, Immortal!”

He expressed his gratitude with genuine sincerity.

Whatever else could be said, this Brother Wang might have a bad attitude, but he at least honored a bet when he lost one—decent character, all things considered.

The record-keeping disciple waved him off, signaling him to leave.

Chu Sheng tucked away the wooden tablet and the pill and left the plaza feeling thoroughly satisfied.

.

.

.

Back at the inn, Chu Sheng shut the door and took out the Bone Strengthening Pill to examine it carefully.

“Bone Strengthening Pill…a medicinal pill for mortals.”

He thought it over and decided not to take it.

There was no telling whether the thing had side effects, and the examination was tomorrow—best not to stir up any trouble.

He put the pill away, then took out the wooden tablet.

The tablet was about the size of a palm, of ordinary make—the character “Taiyi” carved on the front, and his name and number carved on the back.

“The second round of the examination tomorrow…”

Chu Sheng rubbed his chin, thinking.

“I wonder what it tests?”

In the web novels he had read in his past life, sect examinations were never anything more than a few standard categories: moral character, comprehension, combat ability…

“Moral character is definitely no problem for me.”

Chu Sheng said with complete self-confidence.

“I’m a man who aspires to be an undercover Demonic Path cultivator—my moral character is absolutely ironclad!”

“Comprehension… I’m a transmigrator, after all. Two lifetimes of experience—how could my comprehension be poor?”

“Combat ability… that’s a little dicey.”

His only offensive capability right now was the Soul Devouring Banner, but that thing was far too sinister—one use and he’d be exposed.

“Looks like I need to come up with a reliable approach.”

Chu Sheng sat cross-legged and began cultivating the Basic Demonic Art.

He had to seize every moment to build his strength. Even the tiniest sliver of extra cultivation would give him one more measure of confidence for tomorrow’s examination.

Within his Dantian, the Soul Devouring Banner drifted lazily, occasionally sending out a thread of Black Qi to nourish his Spiritual Root.

Chu Sheng had already identified the pattern: each time he cultivated, the Soul Devouring Banner would “dole out” a small amount of energy—never more, never less, just enough to let him improve at a slow and steady pace.

“This treasure has quite a sense of principle.”

Chu Sheng muttered wryly.

“Won’t give more, won’t give less—like clocking in and out of a job.”

After 2 Shichen of cultivation, Chu Sheng felt his cultivation advance by the smallest fraction.

Though the distance to Qi Refinement was still great, at least he was moving forward.

He ended his session and rose, walking to the window to gaze in the direction of Taiyi Gate’s mountain entrance.

Through drifting clouds and mist, immortal palaces and towers flickered in and out of view—a scene of true celestial splendor.

“Tomorrow, I will officially set foot inside this foremost sect of the Righteous Path.”

Chu Sheng murmured quietly.

“Even if it’s with the status of someone with Waste Roots—even if I’m cultivating a Demonic Art—still…”

A glint of excitement flashed through his eyes:

“This is exactly what makes it thrilling!”

“A Demonic Path cultivator lurking inside a Righteous Path sect—how exhilarating!”

He could already picture it: some day in the future, his Demonic Art fully mastered, he would suddenly reveal his true identity at Taiyi Gate’s grand sect ceremony—standing atop the Soul Devouring Banner, hand grasping…well, he hadn’t quite decided what he’d be grasping yet, but the point was that he’d look tremendously imposing.

“And at that moment, everyone would be struck with shock: ‘What?! Senior Brother Chu is actually a Demonic Path cultivator?!’”

“And I would throw my head back and laugh: ‘That’s right! I am the undercover agent who has been lurking here for years!’”

Just imagining it was thrilling!

Chu Sheng wiped at the nonexistent drool at the corner of his mouth and continued fantasizing.

Deep within his Dantian, the Soul Devouring Banner seemed to sense its owner’s “grand ambitions” and gave a faint tremble.

Impossible to tell whether it was approval, or whether it simply found this particular owner to be not quite reliable.

The night deepened.

Chu Sheng lay in bed, tossing and turning—tense and eager in equal measure.

Tomorrow would be the day that decided his fate.

And at this very moment, deep within Taiyi Gate.

An elder who had been seated in meditation suddenly opened his eyes, performed a divination with his fingers, and knitted his brows.

“Strange…why this persistent sense of unease?”

He calculated for a long while and arrived at nothing. Left with no other choice, he shook his head and settled back into meditation.

What he did not know was that a youth with Waste Roots—one who carried a supreme evil treasure of the Demonic Path, cultivated a Demonic Art, and had entangled himself in karmic ties with a weasel spirit—was rubbing his hands together with glee, preparing to infiltrate his sect.

The still waters that had lain calm over Taiyi Gate for many years were finally about to be stirred.

And the one responsible for it all was at that moment lying in bed, deep in a pleasant dream—standing atop the Soul Devouring Banner, one arm around the waist of a celestial maiden, looking tremendously proud of himself.

Reality is always leaner than dreams.

But Chu Sheng didn’t care.

He had the Soul Devouring Banner. He had his “protagonist’s golden finger” (or so he believed).

So what if he had Waste Roots?

He would shake the heavens all the same!

“Taiyi Gate—I’m coming!”

 He cried out in his dream.

From the room next door came a shout of curses:

“Stop your ghostly wailing in the middle of the night!”

Chu Sheng rolled over and went on dreaming.

Tomorrow would be a very interesting day.

Of this he was certain.