Amid the anticipation of countless young cultivators, the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals officially commenced.
The sky was clear as if freshly washed, spring sunlight bathed the land, and the mountains stood verdant and lush.
The square before the Main Peak's front hall was packed with a sea of people. Meng Heze, along with a group of Outer Sect disciples, stood far at the back, surrounded by a bustling crowd that stretched as far as the eye could see.
The Sect Leader stood on the high steps before the hall, delivering a speech. They couldn't see his figure, only hearing a dignified, aged voice reverberating through the mountains.
Due to the distance and the strong mountain winds, the voice drifted in and out, sometimes loud, sometimes faint:
"You are all the rising talents of the Cultivation World, the pillars of the younger generation..."
"You must not fail the nurturing of your sect or the high expectations of your elders..."
"All sects must unite in purpose, punish evil, promote virtue, uphold righteousness, and maintain the order of the Cultivation World..."
Meng Heze couldn't focus on the words. Nor could anyone else—such formal speeches were never truly absorbed.
He turned his head to look around. Every young face wore the same expression: feigned composure barely concealing their excitement.
This was his first time entering the Inner Sect's Main Peak. The palaces were grander than he had imagined, the sea of clouds more spectacular than in his dreams, and even the five-colored carp leaping among the clouds were more beautiful than in legends.
He had initially felt somewhat nervous, unsure how to act as if he visited often.
But along the way, disciples from other sects greeted him, and he even encountered overseas cultivators unfamiliar with the directional markers. Constantly being addressed as "Esteemed Daoist of Huawel Sect," he realized that everyone was attending for the first time—just as everyone was experiencing life for the first time—and he inexplicably felt at ease.
He enjoyed being called "Daoist" by unfamiliar cultivators, then exchanging greetings and introducing themselves.
It was far better than the old days when Deacons and Inner Sect disciples would wave and shout:
"Hey, you over there, come here."
While walking earlier, Meng Heze had already met many cultivators from other sects.
Some recognized him as the "Lotus-Picking Youth of Yaoguang Lake," praising his Light Body Technique;
Others, noting his "bone age of only fourteen yet already at Foundation Establishment cultivation, with limitless potential," initiated conversations with him.
Meng Heze had once been the most sociable Outer Sect disciple, making friends came naturally to him.
Later, spending time with Song Qianji, he was subtly influenced by the other's demeanor. Now, he chatted and laughed effortlessly with cultivators from various sects, showing no trace of timidity.
The indistinct speech before the hall finally ended. Meng Heze remembered nothing except the rules of the assembly.
The Martial Examination and the Go Examination began almost simultaneously. The former had many participants, while the latter was time-consuming—both followed a bracket-style, elimination format.
The Music Examination and the Calligraphy and Painting Examination were scheduled three days later.
Meng Heze followed the crowd to the drawing lots area, chatting with disciples ahead and behind him while waiting in line.
He glanced at the yellow paper in his palm: Ding San Liu Wu. This was the number tag he received when registering.
With numerous participants in the Martial Examination, they were randomly divided into ten groups of a thousand each. The first five hundred would draw lots, while the latter five hundred waited to be drawn.
He was assigned to Group Ding, number three hundred sixty-five—coinciding with the number of days in a year. A Purple Cloud Temple cultivator he had just met remarked that this number, symbolizing the harmony of heaven and earth, was highly auspicious."Ding San Liu Wu, versus Yi Er Shi Si. Take your token and wait at Platform Three of the Celestial Division." The deacon distributing tokens spoke expressionlessly, mechanically repeating, "Failure to respond when called counts as elimination; malicious rule-breaking counts as elimination. The first three rounds have a time limit of one incense stick per match. If no winner is decided by then, both are eliminated."
During the early stages of the martial examination, twenty temporary platforms were erected across the plaza, allowing twenty matches to proceed simultaneously.
As the competition progressed and the wheat was separated from the chaff, by the fourth round, only the most skilled participants remained, and the number of platforms was reduced to allow spectators to focus their attention.
Meng Heze once again navigated through the bustling crowd, traversing what felt like mountains and rivers to find "Platform Three of the Celestial Division."
Deacons busily calling out numbers, Enforcement Hall disciples maintaining order, anxious participants awaiting their turns, competitors exchanging fierce taunts or polite salutes... along with female cultivators chatting and laughing, and spectators secretly organizing betting pools.
The vibrant attire of various sects and the cacophony of regional accents filled the air.
In the early stages of the martial examination, it resembled not the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals, but rather a chaotic marketplace hodgepodge.
Meng Heze’s eyes were kept busy taking in the lively scene all the way. He loved this kind of bustling medley.
This was the dazzling, multifaceted, and splendid Cultivation World he envisioned—a place where people weren’t ordered about, but freely made friends and showcased their skills openly and honorably.
Standing on the platform, he bowed to his opponent: "Meng Heze of the Huawel Sect. I seek your guidance."
"Zhang Daren of the West Sea Sect. Greetings, fellow Daoist." The opponent returned the bow.
Meng Heze raised his low-grade sword.
He thought, This is the life worth living. After the assembly ends, I want to keep living like this. No more shoveling dung for spiritual beasts or digging dirt in the Spirit Stone Mine.
...
The first three rounds of the martial examination proceeded swiftly due to the time constraints.
By the time the sun set behind the mountains, the draw for the fourth round had concluded.
The arena remained lively, but stretchers began to appear beneath the platforms, medical cultivators bustled about, and the mountain breeze carried faint whiffs of blood.
As the sole remaining hope of the Huawel Sect’s Outer Sect, Meng Heze felt no fatigue; instead, he grew more spirited with each fight.
He had already drawn his token for the fourth round and was resting in the waiting area below the platform.
Between the third and fourth rounds, there was a full half-incense stick’s time for recovery.
Eliminated Outer Sect disciples gathered around him—some stanched his bleeding, others wiped his sweat, and one even fanned him, asking if he was hot.
Of course I’m hot. How could I not be?
Meng Heze took a deep breath. "Go to Song Courtyard and invite Senior Brother Song."
Zhou Xiaoyun immediately prepared to leave. "Alright! Should I tell him you’ve advanced to the fourth round and ask him to come watch?"
"No, no, absolutely not say that." Meng Heze stopped her, glancing toward a nearby pavilion adorned with flowers. "Just tell him there’s a flower appreciation gathering near the platforms, with rare and exotic blooms from all over gathered in one place. It would be a shame to miss it. Ask him to enjoy the flowers and, while he’s at it, take a look at my performance."
Zhou Xiaoyun was impressed. "Senior Brother Meng, you’re truly clever!"
Some female cultivators who weren’t participating in the martial examination were upstairs engaged in a "flower competition," which could indeed be described as a kind of "flower appreciation gathering."
When Song Qianji heard the Outer Sect disciples’ explanation, he assumed it was the kind of "flower appreciation gathering" where people exchanged tips on flower cultivation.
How could there be such an event at the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals without my knowledge in my previous life?
How could he miss it?
"I still have some work in the fields. You all go back first; I’ll join you shortly," Song Qianji said.But the square was truly vast, and the crowd too dense. When Song Qianji arrived, before he could even spot any flower-viewing gatherings, someone called out: "Junior Brother Song!"
Song Qianji turned around.
Two Discipline Hall disciples—one tall, one short—approached him: "It really is you! You haven't forgotten us, have you?"
Their inexplicable enthusiasm surrounded Song Qianji as they showered him with greetings, as if they had just seen ten cartloads of Spirit Stones.
Song Qianji was baffled: "What exactly is this about?"
Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng were the same two who had escorted him to the Main Peak on the night of Meng Heze's public trial. Later, they had even bet with others over "whether they had personally seen Fairy Miaoyan" and came to Song Courtyard's gate to seek his testimony.
Qiu Dacheng's face fell, and he wailed: "We're about to lose our pants gambling! You came at just the right time!"
Xu Kanshan added: "Your incredible luck is something we've all witnessed—we trust it completely!"
With that, he sneakily revealed several betting slips.
Song Qianji shook his head: "I've never gambled before."
Qiu Dacheng tugged at his sleeve: "You don't have to gamble—just tell us who to bet on. We agreed last time, you can't go back on your word now!"
Song Qianji laughed: "Alright, I'll accompany you for a while."
He wandered with them between various arenas, glancing up briefly before telling them who would win, all while searching for the entrance to the "Flower Cultivation Exchange."
Song Qianji called every bet correctly. Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng grew bolder, eventually staking their entire fortunes on each wager and reaping massive profits.
The pair knew the rules—they feared others copying their bets and angering the bookmakers. So they hopscotched between different betting pools, never staying in one place long.
"You must be blessed by immortals, with luck like this sweeping all before you!" Qiu Dacheng grinned ear to ear.
"It's not luck—it's judgment," Song Qianji said helplessly. "My luck has always been terrible."
"Could you really determine their combat strength and who would win or lose before they even fought?" Xu Kanshan asked.
Song Qianji thought for a moment: "Essentially, yes."
The two exchanged glances and burst into laughter, insisting they didn't believe him.
Winding their way through the crowd, the trio reached the edge of Celestial Arena Number One.
Suddenly someone shouted excitedly: "Senior Brother Song! Senior Brother Song is here!"
Song Qianji spotted Meng Heze with a group of Outer Sect disciples at the sidelines—likely Meng Heze waiting for his match—and waved with a smile.
"Who do we bet on this time?" Qiu Dacheng asked.
Song Qianji glanced at the opposing cultivator in the waiting area and answered without hesitation: "Obviously Meng Heze."
Qiu Dacheng hesitated: "But he drew a bad matchup! His opponent is the head disciple of Lianshan Sect—he's been making quite a name for himself lately!"
Xu Kanshan added: "You're not just saying that because you're close with Meng Heze, are you? Brotherhood doesn't work that way—Meng Heze won't get any Spirit Stones from this!"
"Suit yourselves." As he spoke, Song Qianji finally spotted the flower-covered pavilion and felt a surge of delight. "I have matters to attend to."
Before the two could stop him, his agile figure vanished into the crowd in the blink of an eye.
The sideline Deacon beat the drum while the bookmaker impatiently urged: "The match is starting soon—last call for bets!"
"I'll bet on Ding San Liu Wu, Meng Heze!" Qiu Dacheng pulled all the Spirit Stones from his Storage Bag. "Everything!"
Meanwhile, in the waiting area, Meng Heze felt slightly disappointed.
"Why didn't Senior Brother Song come over?" an Outer Sect disciple asked, standing on tiptoes to look. "Weren't those two Discipline Hall seniors with him?"
"He probably... didn't see me," Meng Heze said, stepping onto the platform at the Deacon's urging.Suddenly, a disciple came running over, panting and shouting, "Senior Brother Meng! Senior Brother Song just asked the Discipline Hall brothers to spend money betting on your win!"
Meng Heze froze, his whole body jolting as if electrified, his eyes shining brightly: "Really? Senior Brother Song really did that?"
Xu Kanshan and Qiu Dacheng rushed to the foot of the platform, shouting: "Brother Meng, Junior Brother Meng! We've bet our entire fortunes on your victory, you must fight for this honor!"
The green mountains remained unchanged, while the brocade carp in the sea of clouds leaped against the glow of the setting sun.
Before Song Qianji even entered the small building, he could already smell the rich fragrance of flowers.
Inside the building were at least a hundred varieties of flowers and plants, all vying for beauty and splendor.
Song Qianji smiled, extremely satisfied.
Today, he was certain to reap abundant rewards.
OpenNovel