Chapter 42

By the time Kunlun arrived, it was already quite late, and so it wasn't long before all the children participating in the test had found their places, while the accompanying parents stood at a distance. On the platform stood a massive gray stone, about a meter high. Li Mengze placed her hand upon it, releasing a burst of flame that shot towards the sky, then withdrew her hand under the astonished gazes of the crowd. With a touch of spiritual energy, she amplified her voice so it echoed to every corner of the square—a crucial skill at this moment, for the sound could not be too faint for the surrounding onlookers, nor too booming as to harm mortals. After all, the pressure hidden in a cultivator's voice could be overwhelming for those uninitiated.

After briefly explaining how to use the spiritual-testing stone, Li Mengze and Wang Xueru took charge of receiving the new disciples, while Senior Brother Wang and Lü Fang were responsible for testing the children’s spiritual roots. In truth, people are often influenced by the crowd; Kunlun, being the foremost sect in the cultivation world, naturally attracted many would-be disciples simply for its reputation. To Li Mengze, the scene before her was no less bustling than a holiday rush in her previous life.

When the appointed hour arrived, the children lined up according to their numbers, while the adults waited anxiously outside, their hopes riding on the outcome. Should their child succeed, it would be a leap from ordinary to the extraordinary—a family with an immortal offspring would be honored wherever they went. Thus, even if selection meant a painful separation, the parents were still willing.

Those with spiritual roots were truly rare—one in ten thousand. Even for a great sect like Kunlun, only five were found in the entire morning. Fortunately, among these five, there was one genius with a single spiritual root, two with three, one with four, and one with five. Cultivators have no habit of eating meals, so there was no break; the tests continued without pause.

Yet, as the morning wore on, the number of hopefuls waiting for their turn did not decrease but grew. However, Li Mengze could already see the traces of disappointment on her two senior brothers’ faces. For them, only those with single or double roots were truly desirable, and a single-rooted child would earn a reward of two thousand contribution points.

Li Mengze and Wang Xueru exchanged a glance over the small, nervous children beside them, both with a hint of helplessness in their eyes. Who could have the heart, they wondered, to send such tiny children here?

Among the five children, the little girl with three spiritual roots was dressed in fine clothes, clearly from a wealthy family. She looked to be about ten, her face alight with curiosity and eagerness—a true calf unafraid of the tiger. One could only hope she would always keep such a spirit, and not be crushed by the hardships of the cultivation path.

The one they referred to as abandoned by heartless parents was the child with five spiritual roots—a boy of perhaps five or six, thin and frail, his ill-fitting clothes hanging off his bony frame.

Li Mengze had always believed that a society as advanced as the cultivation realm, with living standards and technology rivaling the twenty-first century, ought at the very least to provide for basic needs. Yet, seeing this child, she realized she had been too naïve. The gap between rich and poor exists everywhere.

The little boy stood timidly at her side, apart from the other children, his small hand stretching out and recoiling repeatedly, obviously uneasy and lacking confidence—as if he already knew his spiritual roots were less than ideal.

Having lived through two lifetimes, Li Mengze could read a child’s thoughts well enough. Alone in a strange place, anyone would seek a source of comfort. She didn’t know why he chose her, but it moved her heart nonetheless.

In a crowd, when a ragged child seeks your help, who could remain unmoved? Li Mengze was no exception. She reached out and gently grasped the boy’s tiny hand, uncertain how many times he had tried to offer it.

To her surprise, his hand was soft and warm, entirely unlike his frail appearance. It’s said that one’s hands and feet reveal their fate—if there was truth to that, then this child’s future should be smooth, for this was a hand destined for good fortune, was it not?

The boy seemed startled to have his hand held. He looked up shyly at the beautiful immortal sister, pursed his lips, then quickly looked away, but the nervousness in his heart eased. He thought, if all immortals were as kind and lovely as this big sister, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Perhaps moved by this scene, the boy with the single root nervously opened his mouth to ask, “Immortal sister, will we be able to go home again?”

“After today’s test, you may all return home. In ten days, you will gather here again, and we will take you to the mountain gate. After that, you must wait until you have built your foundation before you may visit home again.” Cultivators are required to sever worldly ties; before forming their foundation, they are not allowed home, lest their resolve waver. Of course, the sect would not begrudge visits from family, but this leniency was rare. Li Mengze herself, before building her foundation, was often visited by her parents—both powerful Nascent Soul cultivators whom any sect would wish to attract. For ordinary mortals, however, it was unlikely they would ever find their way to the mountain gate; separation could well mean a lifetime apart, with only a few ever seeing their families again, and even fewer passing blessings to future generations.

Upon hearing they could return home, the children broke into joyous smiles, their anxieties forgotten. Finding Li Mengze and Wang Xueru approachable, they soon relaxed, and by evening, a bond of friendship had already formed among them.

That afternoon, the results were better than in the morning. Though there were no more single-rooted children, there were three with double roots and five with triple roots—already an excellent outcome compared to other sects.

With the day’s task complete, the children rushed happily to their families, chattering excitedly.

Only the boy whose hand Li Mengze still held remained. She had learned his name: Yun Xiao. For an orphan, that name clearly reflected his late parents’ hopes for him.

He was, after all, just a child. There was no way she would leave him behind; besides, what difference would one more little one make? So, they took him back to a small courtyard in Kunlun, giving him his own room to use as he wished until it was time to depart together.

Returning to her own private space, Li Mengze activated the formation plate, left a trace of her consciousness outside, and slipped inside. After recent upgrades, her space had changed dramatically—green mountains, clear water, brick-tiled houses, and even the little stream she’d carved out had become a gently flowing brook. The white mist drifting above the pool suggested the spiritual spring had also improved.

Now, the space provided all the spiritual energy she needed for daily cultivation, which pleased her greatly. Though her all-purpose space had come somewhat late, she didn’t mind at all—let it continue to upgrade.

Unbeknownst to her, the benefits brought by the space’s upgrade were countless, but there were drawbacks as well. Following the principle of proximity, she first went to inspect the brick courtyard—a vintage style very much to her taste.

Opening the gate, Li Mengze was stunned. The legendary brick courtyard had transformed into something resembling the “Seven Gates,” but counting carefully, it wasn’t six gates—it was seven, each a color of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Had luck truly turned in her favor?

She called silently for the artifact spirit, hoping for an explanation or, at the very least, a brief introduction.

The little artifact spirit did not disappoint. This time, however, he appeared not as a toddler, but as a boy of about ten, dressed in shorts and a baseball cap, his hair cropped short—full of youthful energy.

“You’ve grown up?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. With the space now brimming with spiritual energy, he had naturally matured along with it—nothing strange about that. Previously, the space had barely enough energy to sustain itself, let alone unlock special features. Now, with the upgrade, everything that had not appeared before emerged at once. As compensation for her patience, the great Azure Mountain was now accessible—full of spiritual herbs and beasts, it could serve as her own gathering ground.

The artifact spirit wore an expression of smugness. After all, Azure Mountain would normally only be unlocked at the Nascent Soul stage. It housed many ancient spiritual plants, a treasure trove for any alchemist or cultivator—a miniature secret realm, perfect for training.

Li Mengze looked toward the distant green mountain, amused at the naming convention—black is called Little Black, white is Little White, green is Big Azure. Simple, but effective.

“As for these seven gates,” the artifact spirit continued, “you see the red and orange ones are already lit. Each opens to a different realm, and the further along, the higher the plane. There’s even a chance one of the later gates leads to the Upper Celestial World—if so, you’ll have struck it rich. You could trade immortal artifacts between worlds and make a fortune.”

The artifact spirit had gleaned this idea from Li Mengze’s own memories, quickly deducing the profit to be made by shuttling goods between realms, using the spirit stones earned to purchase treasures and upgrade the space—a win-win.

Li Mengze was eager to explore the gates, but remembering her responsibilities outside, she could only sigh in regret for now.

Seeing her disappointment, the artifact spirit rolled his eyes again. He had perfected the gesture; paired with his childish face, it was both comical and incongruous.

“The first two gates are safe enough for you to explore,” he reassured her. “With your cultivation, you can handle any threat. But from the Golden Core stage onward, the gates may open onto dangerous lands—demon beast forests and the like. If you die in another realm, the space will erase your existence and await a new host. In other words, everything you have now would benefit someone else. It’s best that you find a suitable companion soon. The space will grant you a Heartbond Contract—binding your souls together. Should one betray the other, the space will automatically erase the offender. Consider it a guarantee—think of it as finding yourself a bodyguard.”

Li Mengze was flabbergasted. This was a pitfall! She was already in the late Foundation Building stage and could break through to perfection at any moment; reaching Golden Core within ten years was within her grasp. Yet, never in her plans had there been a man; in the cultivation world, many spent their lives without marriage, and no one thought it strange. Now she was being told to find a Dao companion—wasn’t this too much?

She had thought the space and its seven gates were a great boon, but now it seemed the disadvantages outweighed the benefits. If she didn’t use them, she’d only be plagued by regret.

Imitating the artifact spirit, Li Mengze rolled her eyes with all her might.

Striding into the brick house, she found the furnishings anything but vintage—soft sofas, a comfortable waterbed; aside from the lack of television and computers, it was not far from the twenty-first century.

What concerned her most was her spiritual herb garden—nearly twenty years’ effort, her hard-won spoils, including seedlings pilfered from the sect’s herb garden, stolen at great risk and excitement.

The herb garden’s gate was as simple as ever. Li Mengze fully expected to see her lush plants upon entering, but was instead greeted by the sight of a yard full of drooping, yellowing herbs, many already withered and lifeless.

Her heart skipped a beat. Had she been robbed?

The artifact spirit, floating behind her, feigned nonchalance as he explained, “It’s nothing—your herbs were simply too low-level to withstand the surge of spiritual energy from the upgrade. They fulfilled their purpose, that’s all.”

Li Mengze glared. Low-level? It was only because the space had been so poor in spiritual energy before! She’d have loved to plant higher-level herbs if she could—but in the end, she was the one paying the price. Was it her fault?