The carriage jolted along the rugged official road, and Yun Che’s body swayed incessantly with each bump. He hugged the blue cloth bundle in his arms tightly, inside which lay the clothes and osmanthus candies his mother had packed. His heart thumped like a trapped rabbit—half anxiety for leaving his parents, half uncertainty about the road ahead, and even more, a heavy sense of responsibility, fearing he might fail the expectations placed upon him.

  The farther he left home, the more unfamiliar the surrounding scenery became. After an unknown amount of time, fatigue crept over him, and he leaned against the hard wall of the carriage, drifting into a drowsy sleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, the carriage had stopped. His uncle, Yun Qingmo, gently nudged him, a warm smile on his face. “Stone, your first time traveling far from home—how does it feel?”

  Rubbing his eyes, Yun Che saw that the carriage had stopped in front of a courtyard with green bricks and gray tiles. He answered honestly, “A little afraid. Uncle, can I do this?”

  Yun Qingmo chuckled, patting his shoulder firmly. “Don’t overthink it! We’re at my house now. Rest your legs first. Tomorrow at dawn, we’ll take you to the ancestral hall for the preliminary selection.”

  Stepping out, Yun Che’s eyes widened at the size of the residence. He followed his uncle into a side chamber and lay down on an unfamiliar bed, but sleep refused to come. The images of his parents at the village gate, his uncle’s parting instructions, and the disdainful glance from Yun Han during the banquet—they all spun through his mind like a revolving lantern. He sighed and turned over, his determination crystallizing: he must be chosen.

  Through the hazy light filtering the window paper, dawn broke. Despite a restless night, Yun Che felt unusually alert, his nerves sharpened by tension. Following his uncle, he passed through several streets and arrived at the Yun family’s main ancestral hall.

  It was the first time he had seen such a grand residence. High walls and deep courtyards, orderly gates, servants in neat clothing bustling about—it overwhelmed his senses.

  “Stone,” Yun Qingmo whispered, “observe more, speak less when you’re in there. Make your father proud, and yourself too.”

  Yun Che pressed his lips together and nodded firmly.

  In the wide square before the hall, a crowd had already gathered. Besides the three selected youths, there were many family elders and relatives. Yun Che immediately spotted Yun Han, standing slightly apart, flanked by several elders. Today he wore a moon-white robe embroidered with flowing cloud patterns, exuding a natural elegance. His expression was cold and detached, seemingly impervious to the surrounding commotion.

  As Yun Che observed, an elderly steward approached, eyes briefly scanning him before nodding at Yun Qingmo. “You must be Yun Che from Xitou Village. The Immortal Master will arrive shortly. Behave properly, observe carefully, and watch Yun Han’s example. Do you understand?”

  Yun Che did not respond, shifting his gaze to another boy beside him. Shorter by half a head, with tanned skin and sharp, lively eyes, he had a bulging object at his waist. Catching Yun Che’s gaze, the boy grinned and whispered, “You must be Stone from Second Uncle’s house, right? I’m Yun Feng, fifth in the ranking.”

  Yun Che nodded, speechless.

  The steward, displeased by Yun Che’s silence, frowned as he opened his mouth to scold him.

  Suddenly—

  The sky above twisted with wind and clouds!

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  A streak of icy blue light shot from the horizon, growing rapidly, slicing the sky. In a blink, it crashed down into the center of the square, radiating a bone-chilling cold. When the brilliance faded, it revealed a young man clad in the white robes of the Xuanshuang Sect. His stern face and piercing eyes seemed to hold icy stars within, a faint frost lingering around him. Simply standing there, the temperature in the square seemed to drop several degrees. Every sound ceased.

  The young man’s gaze swept across Yun Che, Yun Han, and Yun Feng, lingering slightly on Yun Feng’s bulging object, then he spoke in a voice cold and devoid of mortal warmth, “These are the three recommended by the Yun family this year?”

  “Immortal…!” Yun Che’s breath caught. Standing in the gaze of someone capable of wielding wind and lightning, he felt utterly naked, chills shooting from head to toe.

  Yun Feng had already straightened up, suppressing his usual playful demeanor, while Yun Han maintained his calm, even casting a measured glance back at the youth, unafraid.

  Yun Han’s father, a man in elegant robes, hurried forward, his face plastered with obsequious respect. “Reporting to Your Excellency, these are the three young men recommended by the Yun family. My son Yun Han has been blessed by Immortal Master Daoxu…”

  The youth raised his hand to interrupt, eyes fixed on Yun Han with a cold, scrutinizing gaze. “Indeed, your spiritual light is innate. Master Daoxu’s judgment is sound.”

  Yun Han’s lips curved slightly with a hint of pride. “Master Daoxu said my spiritual perception is rare in a century.”

  The young man’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then relaxed. “The hour grows late. Let us depart.” With a flick of his sleeve, he lifted the three youths under his arms. A sharp rush of wind tore past Yun Che’s ears as they shot upward.

  Yun Che’s heart leapt. Looking down, the vast layout of Qinglan City shrank rapidly, buildings and streets reducing to checkerboard patterns. Distant mountains became miniature models, speeding away beneath him.

  The violent wind cut like knives across his face, making his eyes water uncontrollably.

  “Close your eyes. Or lose your sight.” The icy voice of the youth cut through the roaring wind.

  Terrified, Yun Che shut his eyes tightly. Though his body trembled violently in the high-speed flight, deep within him, a fierce desire began to stir—a longing to wield the power of an immortal, soaring across the heavens, commanding wind and lightning.

  After what felt like countless breaths—or perhaps just a short moment—the wind slowed, the youth’s breathing grew heavier, and Yun Che felt his body drop. The force holding him vanished abruptly.

  “Bang! Bang! Bang!”

  The three fell to the solid ground below. It was not a great height, and though they were slightly battered, they were unharmed.

  Yun Che scrambled up eagerly, opening his eyes to behold the impossible: no longer a mundane world stretched before him. Peaks towered in competition, streams cascaded, and exotic flowers and plants exuded misty radiance. In the distance, ethereal fog swirled like silk; glimpses of cranes and mystical deer appeared. The air was rich with a purifying spiritual fragrance, refreshing and invigorating with every breath.

  Ahead, a majestic main peak pierced the clouds, partially hidden in a rolling sea of mist. Thousands of streams of auspicious energy cascaded down, and multicolored light bathed the slopes. A jade-like winding staircase stretched from the mist-shrouded summit down into the verdant pine forests. At the top, elegant eaves and glazed tiles gleamed with prismatic light, a solemn, awe-inspiring scene. A white jade bridge, crafted with divine skill, extended from one peak to another, lost in the swirling clouds.

  This, undoubtedly, was the Xuanshuang Sect—once a dominant power in the Zhaokuo cultivation world, its foundations strong despite recent decline.

  “Brother Zhang, are these the disciples we are to receive?” A gentle voice called.

  A middle-aged man in dark robes, exuding the aura of a cultivated master, floated over from the gate, supported by clouds beneath his feet.

  The cold youth immediately bowed respectfully. “Reporting, Third Brother. These are the three youths recommended by the Yun family. Thank you for testing them.”

  The middle-aged master smiled. “Since the sect leader is focused on your cultivation of ‘Ice Soul Sword Technique,’ I will oversee them here.” His gaze swept over the three, lingering slightly on Yun Han, his smile growing warmer.

  The youth returned the bow, then vanished into the mountain, leaving the square in stunned silence.

  Yun Che stood motionless, his heart racing. The scene of immortals living and practicing right before his eyes—this was a realm beyond mortal comprehension! At that moment, he felt a tug at his sleeve. Turning, he saw Yun Feng, eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Stone, look! This is what it means to be a real immortal! I’ll do whatever it takes to stay here!” The Black, wiry boy patted the object at his waist, confidence surging.

  Which scene left the strongest impression on you—the descent of the immortal, the flight through the sky, or the reveal of Xuanshuang Sect?

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