Chapter 75: Time and Again
Lu Caiwei instinctively wanted to retort when she heard Shen Yu’s matter-of-fact tone, and said with disdain, “People without shame—”
Shen Yu replied indifferently, “Oh?”
Lu Caiwei shot him a sidelong glance, smiled, and said, “Are invincible in the world.”
Shen Yu paid no heed, lightly flicking his fingertips.
The young woman then collided straight into the carriage, and soon, the inside was filled with muttered curses.
Shen Yu shifted his posture and continued to rest with his eyes closed.
Lu Caiwei didn’t seem to have learned her lesson. She lifted the curtain and asked in puzzlement, “I’m not joining the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect, so why must I attend the entrance examination?”
Shen Yu countered, “Naturally, you must follow them. Unless you’d rather I bring you charging straight through the gates of Returning Cloud Immortal Sect?”
Lu Caiwei’s eyes brightened, her voice delighted, “That sounds great! You’re a disciple of the Daoist Sect—even the people of Returning Cloud Immortal Sect wouldn’t dare do anything to you.”
Shen Yu stared at her for a long while, then sighed, “Ah, to be young.”
…
Returning Cloud Immortal Sect was a prestigious faction. Among countless ordinary folk who knew nothing of sacred places, the Sect was considered the most elite immortal sect in the world.
With their official recruitment of disciples underway, the once unremarkable Cangmang Town was now bustling with strangers, and the small town became lively and vibrant.
Even from far outside the town, the two could sense a festive atmosphere, reminiscent of New Year celebrations.
Returning Cloud Immortal Sect chose this location, not Yun Cliff City, precisely because Cangmang Town bordered a mountain shrouded in ethereal spiritual energy.
The Mountain of Vastness.
At the foot of the mountain, on a vast meadow, local officials and guards struggled to maintain order, keeping the throngs of curious commoners outside.
An elder with an aura of immortality stood atop a raised stone platform, accompanied by dozens of others dressed in flowing robes, their bearing like that of immortals.
A stone platform, about ten feet tall, stood before them, with a luminous jade stone placed at its center.
This was the Seeking Immortal Stone, used to test a disciple’s cultivation aptitude—the first step in the sect’s recruitment. It was much like the ancient mirror treasure used by the Daoist Sect to test the innate Dao body of its disciples.
Returning Cloud Immortal Sect belonged to the Daoist lineage, but its branches were many and varied—Daoist arts, sword cultivation, martial disciplines, alchemy, and spiritual refinement—so its disciples were spread throughout the realm.
Lu Caiwei eyed the jade stone nervously. “What if I don't pass?”
Shen Yu explained, “All laws of heaven and earth require spiritual power. Testing aptitude, put simply, is to see how much spiritual energy your dantian and meridians can contain. In other words—”
Lu Caiwei glared, “Speak so people can understand.”
Shen Yu was briefly stunned, then seemed to recall things from years past, chuckling, “You daring to speak to me like that is already something remarkable in this world.”
He continued, “Therefore, you needn’t worry about it.”
The first test was of cultivation aptitude.
Lu Caiwei, lacking the earlier bravado she’d shown with Shen Yu, cautiously stepped forward, placed her hand on the Seeking Immortal Stone, and only after the enigmatic elder nodded, did her heart finally settle.
Perhaps she was too nervous, and so missed the flash of surprise in the old man’s eyes.
With countless hopefuls coming and leaving in disappointment, only a handful—barely more than a dozen—remained.
Lu Caiwei tugged at Shen Yu’s sleeve, whispering, “Go on, quick!”
Shen Yu shook his head, calmly, “No need.”
Sure enough, the immortal elder then announced, “Aptitude is not the only standard for cultivation. There will be other trials soon. If you pass, you can still become a registered disciple of Returning Cloud Immortal Sect.”
As soon as he finished, the previously crestfallen children became hopeful once more.
Lu Caiwei was still a bit confused, “So I passed?”
Shen Yu replied, “What else?”
Lu Caiwei exclaimed in surprise, “I thought there would be many more tests—most stories write it that way, with trials of the Dao heart, slaying demons, and only then passing the sect’s assessment.”
“That’s because those are stories. This is real life.”
Shen Yu said coolly, “If things were as you described, those so-called immortal masters would die from exhaustion.”
Lu Caiwei frowned, “It’s all a bit too hasty.”
Shen Yu considered, “These immortal masters care only for the quota, not for you as a person. In these great sects, no one pays much attention to registered or even outer disciples.”
Lu Caiwei fell silent for a long time, then said, “I understand.”
An hour later, as the immortal masters of Returning Cloud Immortal Sect departed with floating grace, the crowd followed them to another testing site.
The next trial was novel—whether it was fighting, poetry, music, painting, or even appearance, anyone with some special skill had a chance to become a registered or outer disciple.
They cultivated disciples by sifting through the masses, and occasionally someone with a unique talent emerged and drew attention.
For example, centuries ago, the Sect had a young scholar of mediocre aptitude, looked down upon by his teachers, who spent his days cultivating in the mountains. Yet thirty years later, he suddenly broke through several realms in nine days, becoming one of the strongest in Returning Cloud Immortal Sect.
The course of fate is unpredictable; the path of cultivation has no fixed pattern.
The most eye-catching participant in the trial was a thin man whose talent lay in drinking water.
Barrel after barrel was brought onto the stage, which he gulped down without spilling a drop.
Even more bizarre, a cultivator in the distance observed intently, recording notes—as no one knew if he might, by drinking, become a great cultivator. There were tales of an adept in water arts who, in his youth, was renowned for eating and drinking.
Shen Yu, being traditional, chose the most direct method.
Fighting.
He stood on the stage, quietly regarding a nervous youth whose legs trembled incessantly.
Finely dressed, clearly from a noble family, but now, upon mounting the stage, he was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, his face full of fear and anxiety.
Shen Yu was bemused—if those old acquaintances knew he was fairly dueling a child, it would be the greatest joke in the cultivation world.
He sighed, “Go on, step down.”
The young boy, nearly unable to speak from nerves, stammered, “Wh-why should I?”
Shen Yu showed his fist, calmly, “See this? It’s big, isn’t it? One blow and you’ll be dead.”
“Mother!”
The boy burst into tears and ran off.
A dignified woman, surrounded by guards, hurried over and swept the child into her arms, her face full of distress—as if Shen Yu had committed some heinous crime.
Shen Yu’s expression was blank, numb.
Lu Caiwei, watching from afar, was bent double with laughter.
After several farcical bouts, a proper opponent finally appeared—though only compared to those before.
So Shen Yu flicked his finger and sent his opponent flying out of the ring, ending a match destined to be a laughingstock.
The immortal elder in the distance noted this, nodding slightly—this young man’s bearing and skill seemed promising.
Zheng Xuan, as an elder of Returning Cloud Immortal Sect, had been allotted a quota of registered disciples. If he happened to recruit some talented ones, his annual cultivation resources would increase.
His thoughts were soon interrupted by a richly dressed young man appearing at his side.
Yang Yiqing—the very young disciple from Central Province who had crossed paths with Shen Yu. He was also a true disciple of the Sect.
Zheng Xuan was momentarily surprised, then said kindly, “Is there something you need?”
As a personal disciple of the Sect’s teaching elder, and a true disciple at that, his status far outstripped an ordinary side hall elder.
Yang Yiqing’s expression was arrogant, “Nothing much, just bored along the journey, so I came for a look. Elder Zheng, carry on with your business.”
He glanced at the ring, suddenly arching his brows with amusement. “Oh, it seems I’ve found someone interesting.”
…
Shen Yu dispatched all his opponents without care, ignoring the steward’s gaze and stepping down.
Lu Caiwei teased, “Truly worthy of being a disciple from...that place—your moves sweep all before you. I am impressed.”
Shen Yu said nothing, only turned his head to meet the gaze not far away—a look full of mirth and mockery.
Lu Caiwei followed his gaze, her face turning pale.
In the ancient town of Pingyao, this man had appeared during that conversation—and, as she suspected, he had secretly sent Jiang Xianghu to kill her.
His next words confirmed her suspicions.
“Who would have thought you’d still be alive? Looks like my Falling Treasure Bracelet was wasted on that fool.”
The young man smiled at them.
Lu Caiwei clenched her fists tightly, her eyes reddening.
These cultivators always viewed mortals as ants. She had refused their demand to take another master, and in return faced a threat to her life.
Yang Yiqing was unmoved by her glare, smiling, “So you’re here as well. Fate keeps us together.”
Shen Yu’s expression remained calm.
Lu Caiwei spoke coldly, “What do you want?”
“Don’t worry. Since you didn’t die, and I’m broad-minded, I have no further interest.”
Yang Yiqing’s face was lazy, but his gaze never left Shen Yu. He smiled, “But you, wanting to join the Immortal Sect…”
He waved his finger, “No.”
Shen Yu said nothing.
Lu Caiwei shouted angrily, “Why not?”
Yang Yiqing replied seriously, “Because I won’t allow it. Is that reason enough?”
The noisy surroundings suddenly fell silent, all eyes turning toward them.
Yang Yiqing glanced at Shen Yu, dismissing the young man in green, but resented his gaze.
Most mortals grovelled before him, full of smiles—not this one, who was so indifferent.
Even worse, this pretentious fellow had to take part in these child’s games just to join the Sect.
He found it an eyesore—an enormous eyesore!
Such a person shouldn’t be here.
Shen Yu looked at him impassively, speaking softly, “So, what do you intend?”
“Kneel and beg!”
Yang Yiqing laughed loudly, “If you do, perhaps I’ll be in a good mood and let you stay.”
No one spoke—not even Elder Zheng Xuan.
Shen Yu lowered his head in thought.
In his youth, he had journeyed across the land, always meeting challenges head-on, but sometimes encountering stubborn old men and reminding himself that there was time ahead.
But another principle, taught to him by an old master, lingered.
Never let something happen again and again.
He thought: at Tianhe Inn, that was once; over the East Sea, the second time; this, the third.
Suddenly Shen Yu looked up, asked calmly, “Is your master here?”
Yang Yiqing was momentarily confused.
The next moment, a terrifying surge of true Dao intent swept the surroundings, shattering the makeshift platform into ruins.