The Valley of Wind and Mist was lush with verdant pines and cypresses, and even the sunlight filtering through the canopy onto the chessboard seemed distant and serene.
The wind rustled through the forest, the sound of pine waves rising and falling like tides.
The murmuring pines, the gurgling springs over stones, and the crisp clatter of chess pieces intertwined in a rhythmic cadence.
Though the viewing platform jutting from the mountainside was spacious, Song Qianji and Ji Chen had arrived late and could only squeeze into a corner.
Hearing Song Qianji’s remarks like "I’ve played once" and "I know a little," those around them cast sidelong glances, their faces etched with disdain—
A pair of amateurs, with nowhere better to be, had to come here and make a nuisance of themselves.
Ji Chen craned his neck, peering downward, and struck up a conversation with the person beside him as if they were old acquaintances:
"Fellow Daoist, why is there only one game being played in the valley at this time? I’d appreciate your insight."
The match below was at a critical juncture, and the man had initially intended to ignore him. But seeing Ji Chen’s elegant attire paired with polite manners, his dignified bearing yet sincere expression, he patiently replied:
"The chess trials and martial trials began simultaneously. The top ten in the chess trials have already been decided, and since this morning, the matches have been proceeding one by one, allowing eliminated participants to observe. Those who made it into the top ten are all prodigies in the art of chess, one in ten thousand. Every game between them holds immense reference value—it would be a shame to miss them."
Ji Chen exclaimed excitedly, "At this pace, could the chess champion be decided tonight?"
"Of course! The one currently playing in the valley is one of the top contenders—Yao An of the Purple Cloud Temple!"
"So that’s how it is. Thank you for enlightening me, Fellow Daoist."
Ji Chen turned to Song Qianji: "Brother Song, we’re truly in luck to catch Yao An’s match. He’s quite famous!"
"Oh." Song Qianji responded, studying the game for a moment before suddenly asking, "Is he playing black or white?"
The bystander scoffed, "Of course it’s the one in purple playing black. You don’t even recognize Senior Brother Yao of the Purple Cloud Temple, yet you came to watch the chess trials?"
Song Qianji smiled. "The spirit lies in participation."
"Right, we’re just passing through." Ji Chen chuckled apologetically, then asked curiously, "I wonder who the esteemed opponent facing Yao An is?"
In the valley, two players faced off across a giant stone board.
One, holding black, wore a dignified violet Daoist robe, seated cross-legged with a steady hand as he placed his pieces, exuding an air of youthful maturity.
The other, holding white, was dressed in coarse hemp clothes, scratching his head and ears in agitation. He crouched, then stood, seemingly unable to find a comfortable posture, fidgeting restlessly.
Three zhang away from them, a Deacon recorded the game’s progression with a brush, while a physician sat beside a stretcher.
Enforcement Hall disciples stood guard with blades, ready to handle any emergencies.
"That man comes from a minor sect on the verge of extinction. He only signed up for the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals for the prizes, yet he surged forth unexpectedly, fighting his way into the top ten. Countless disciples from renowned families and sects have fallen to his prowess," an onlooker remarked in admiration.
Ji Chen said respectfully, "Truly a master! May I ask his name?"
Another interjected, "His name is Li Ergou. His sect has declined, so he has no Daoist title. But out of respect for his chess skills, we call him 'Senior Brother Li Ciquan.'"
"Ciquan?" Ji Chen blinked in confusion, muttering, "Isn’t that still 'Ergou'?"
Song Qianji couldn’t help but chuckle. "This Fellow Daoist Ciquan is about to win."
Ji Chen exclaimed in surprise, "But he looks so anxious and flustered!"
"Hey, amateurs should keep quiet and not mislead others," someone glared at Song Qianji, displeased. "At this stage of the mid-game struggle, it’s clear Senior Brother Yao An has the upper hand!"
Song Qianji merely smiled, with no intention to argue.Another person remarked, "Indeed, the 'Thirteen Chapters on Go' states, 'The edge is inferior to the corner, and the corner is inferior to the center.' Senior Brother Yao An excels in central territory control. His playing style is seasoned and steady, advancing step by step with solid foundations. Senior Brother Li Ciquan has relied on unconventional moves, narrowly winning repeatedly. But facing such a strong opponent now, he’s likely reached his limit... Look, he’s requesting 'long consideration'!"
The viewing platform erupted in murmurs.
They saw Li Ergou raise his hand, signaling the Deacon by the board to start the timer. He then leaped off the large stone, ran to the spring, scooped water to wash his face, and tilted his head back to gulp down two handfuls noisily.
While others engaged in long contemplation by closing their eyes and exhausting their mental energy to calculate variations, this man’s version involved washing his face and drinking water.
Yao An’s expression turned extremely unpleasant, as if Li Ergou had splashed a basin of icy spring water over him.
The disciples of Purple Cloud Temple shared his sentiment—none of them liked Li Ergou:
"Poor Senior Brother Yao, having to share the board with such a crude, rustic fellow. Where is the 'elegance' in the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals?"
"Don’t worry. Once Senior Brother Yao wins, we won’t have to see him anymore."
Ji Chen, however, kept his eyes fixed on the board: "So impressive."
Song Qianji said, "If you like it, why not learn it?"
"I’ve played twice and was called stupid both times," Ji Chen smiled bitterly. "I can’t even grasp Talismans—how could I learn something this difficult?"
"Who told you that?" Song Qianji felt a stir in his heart.
Ji Chen answered frankly, laughing carelessly, "I’ve had weak Meridians since childhood, unfit for swords or blades. My elders warned me that my only possible path lay in drawing Talismans. If I couldn’t manage that, nothing else would work!"
Song Qianji fell silent, then transmitted his voice privately: "If you were Li Ergou, where would you move after long consideration?"
Ji Chen was taken aback, unsure why he was using voice transmission: "How would I dare to move? I’ll just stand here."
"Why not give it a try?" Song Qianji chuckled.
After some thought, Ji Chen reluctantly transmitted back: "The 'ping' position, three-nine point?"
Song Qianji replied, "If you play 'ping three-nine,' Yao An will respond with 'ru two-eight,' capturing three of your stones in the next move."
Ji Chen’s face flushed with embarrassment. He stared at the board, calculating briefly before nodding in realization: "Brother Song is right! Then what about the 'qu' position, three-six point?"
Song Qianji shook his head again: "Think again."
Ji Chen suggested ten different moves in succession—in an actual game, he would have retracted his moves ten times over.
He felt like a headless fly, clutching white stones and charging recklessly across the board, darting left and right, only to find himself surrounded by impenetrable walls.
Just as he glimpsed a sliver of hope, Song Qianji lightly placed a black stone, erecting a towering barrier right before his escape route.
Beads of cold sweat formed on Ji Chen’s forehead.
Song Qianji said, "Don’t assume Li Ergou is doomed and only think about escaping. What if he plays the 'shang' position, four-two point?"
Ji Chen frowned deeply, calculating rapidly.
At that moment, the Deacon by the board struck a stone, signaling the end of the long consideration period.
Li Ergou leaped onto the large stone, picked up a white stone between two fingers, and—without even glancing at the board—resolutely placed it:
Shang four-two.
Ji Chen slammed the railing and suddenly exclaimed loudly: "Brilliant!"
He had forgotten to use voice transmission, drawing angry glares from those around him, who scolded him for his outburst.
Unfazed, Ji Chen’s eyes shone brightly.
Song Qianji said, "Now do you understand Li Ergou’s strategy? His play seems full of flaws, but it’s a trap to lure the enemy. His turning point comes with the next move."
"Brother Song, you’re truly divine!" Ji Chen grabbed his arm tightly, then quickly released it, realizing his impropriety. He transmitted privately, "Li Ergou really can win!""No." Song Qianji smiled, "Now let's assume you are Yao An."
As the chess game progressed, the atmosphere on the viewing platform grew increasingly tense, with occasional sharp intakes of breath.
Li Ergou seemed like a completely different person, his white pieces advancing relentlessly with each move drawing blood.
After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Yao An vomited blood and collapsed, being supported by physicians who fed him medicine. Li Ergou jumped down from the massive stone and strode away without looking back.
The disciples of Purple Cloud Temple exclaimed in alarm, rushing down from the viewing platform in panic: "Senior Brother Yao An!"
Ji Chen appeared dazed and disoriented.
On the actual chessboard, Li Ergou had defeated Yao An.
Yet in the mental chess game between them, guided by Song Qianji, he had used Yao An's black pieces to defeat Li Ergou.
Didn't that mean Song Qianji could easily defeat both of them?
Ji Chen stood with his mouth agape, both excited and shocked: "Brother Song, with such extraordinary skill, why didn't you register for the Chess Examination?"
"Just a minor trick. Sometimes I can't be bothered to calculate."
"Why did you teach me then?!"
Song Qianji said: "I happened to have nothing better to do."
Like beating children during New Year—no, like teaching children under the bright sun, since idleness served no purpose.
Ji Chen was speechless, choked with emotion.
Song Qianji gazed at the distant sky: "I'm going to watch the Music Examination first. You might as well stay here. While your intuition is good, play a few more games."
The setting sun cast golden light, painting the mountain ranges with rosy clouds. This game had been too prolonged and drawn out.
"We'll meet again if fate allows." Song Qianji turned to leave.
Ji Chen instinctively reached out to stop him: "Wait!"
A sleeve slipped through his fingers.
Groups of Purple Cloud Temple disciples were streaming down the stone steps, and Song Qianji's retreating figure disappeared into the crowd, vanishing without a trace.
Ji Chen stood frozen in place, growing more distraught the more he thought about it.
He had initially believed he'd found a like-minded friend who was equally mediocre.
When Song Qianji said "life is about participation," he would respond "the harder you try, the worse you become.Two good-for-nothings not despising each other was a rare experience.
And since he was wealthier than Song Qianji, he could even help him...
The chessboard on the stone was cleared, with the next pair of players preparing to take their positions.
Suddenly dust rose as over thirty people stormed into the valley, their approach aggressive and imposing.
The crowd on the viewing platform, uncertain of their purpose, buzzed with discussion.
Ji Chen, being relatively worldly-wise, focused his gaze and recognized:
Ten Deacons from Huawel Sect, ten examiners from the Calligraphy and Painting Examination, and others he didn't recognize who were likely experts from Azure Cliff Academy, since the Academy Head walked at the rear.
Ji Chen was utterly terrified, wishing he could turn and flee immediately.
Could it be that my carelessly scribbled exam paper was actually seen by the Calligrapher Sage?
Was the venerable master so enraged that he sent you personally to arrest me?
Then someone shouted: "Is Ji Chen of the White Phoenix County Ji Family present?"
Ji Chen's face showed utter despair.
Brother Song, you left too early—why must I face this alone?
The Huawel Sect Deacons rushed up to the viewing platform first.
"You've truly been hard to find! Young Immortal Lord Ji, congratulations!"
Ji Chen looked bewildered: "What is there to congratulate?"
The previously supervising Deacon beamed with a wide smile, announcing loudly, "Your calligraphy and painting examination paper has been personally selected by the Calligrapher Sage as the top scorer! You are this year's first champion of the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals! Please come with us to the celebration banquet immediately!"
The crowd on the viewing platform regarded him with newfound respect, thinking to themselves that this chess-ignorant layman who appeared uneducated had unexpectedly turned out to be the calligraphy and painting champion.
If only they had known earlier, they really shouldn't have glared at him.
Someone started applauding first, and soon congratulations came in waves, surging toward Ji Chen.
"I'd only heard before that the eldest young master of White Phoenix County's Ji Family was worthless, far inferior to those from the collateral branches. Turns out it was all misinformation!"
"Of course it was slander! We're lucky to have actually spoken with the calligraphy and painting champion!"
In the valley, the Chess Examination participants also smiled and applauded.The heavens and earth spun wildly around Ji Chen.
"Whose exam paper is this?" His eyes widened as if struck by a heavy hammer to the skull, murmuring: "This can't be real, impossible!"
"You're too modest. The two characters you wrote - no, they should now be called the 'Egg Calligraphy' - are exquisitely perfect, truly deserving of the honor!"
Egg Calligraphy?
Ji Chen's legs went weak. He grabbed the railing to keep from tumbling off the platform into the valley below:
"I didn't write that!"
Dao Ancestor above, what kind of friend have I made?
People rushed forward, competing to support him.
Dean Qingya emerged slowly from the crowd, smiling meaningfully: "We judge only what's on paper, not its origin. You are the champion of the Calligraphy and Painting Examination. Come with us."
※※※
The waterfall cascaded down with thunderous roar.
Occasional zither notes rose above the water's sound.
The setting sun cast a brilliant golden glow upon several small buildings by the deep pool.
As the Music Examination progressed, more listeners gathered, most drawn by Miaoyan.
News that Miaoyan would play after the examination's conclusion had spread throughout Huawel Sect.
Crowds surrounded the pool, standing from the water's edge up the slopes, waiting for Mengzhi Fairy - known as "Little Miaoyan" - to take the stage.
Amid the murmuring crowd, deacons hurried about.
"Why hasn't Mengzhi Fairy appeared? Does anyone know where she's gone?"
"Someone saw her heading to Fairy Miaoyan's bamboo lodge."
In the bamboo lodge, Mengzhi curtsied to Miaoyan: "Greetings, Senior Sister."
Miaoyan smiled: "What brings you here?"
She had seen too many young, beautiful, and talented sound cultivators.
The one before her was merely ordinary among them.
Her heart remained utterly calm.
Mengzhi worriedly said: "I always struggle with two notes midway through this piece. I boldly came to seek your guidance."
Her master was an idle elder from Celestial Sound Sect who hadn't attended the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals.
With no one else to consult about her difficulties, she had no choice but to ask Miaoyan.
In recent years, her rising fame had earned her the nickname "Little Miaoyan."
Though pleased by this, whenever she encountered Miaoyan, she still felt like gazing upon a celestial goddess, immediately becoming ashamed of her own inadequacy.
Miaoyan sat upright, listening to her play two measures before nodding gently: "Not bad. Like flawless jade with minor imperfections."
Mengzhi's cheeks flushed pink, her lips curling involuntarily as if receiving great encouragement.
"As the saying goes, 'The zither possesses nine virtues: extraordinary, ancient, mellow, penetrating, fragrant, clear, even, and tranquil.'" Miaoyan lightly pressed her fingertips, plucking two notes. "You simply lack tranquility."
Mengzhi paused slightly.
Miaoyan said calmly: "When your mind is restless, the zither's voice cannot be tranquil. Wanting to win is good, but when pressing the strings, you must forget victory and defeat. If tranquility enters the melody while your breath remains too tense, the music will become stiff."
"Thank you, Senior Sister!" Mengzhi bowed respectfully.
"Go now, play well." Miaoyan said. "I wish you victory."
Though it would be a championship no one would remember.
Whenever someone sought her guidance, Miaoyan treated all equally, never withholding knowledge.
Thus, most young disciples in Celestial Sound Sect genuinely respected her and spontaneously protected her reputation.
Wangshu thought this was her disciple's method of winning hearts and never interfered.
Others considered it evidence of Miaoyan's kindness and nobility.
They didn't know this was simply Miaoyan's confidence -
"Even if I teach you, you still won't play as well as I do."
Having listened through most of the Music Examination, she was beginning to feel somewhat lonely.
Even if she never tired of hearing her own compositions, she was growing weary of them.She now wished to hear a new melody.
But where could one find new compositions in the Cultivation World?
※※※
After much anticipation, the moment finally arrived.
Fairy Mengzhi, cradling her renowned zither, stepped gracefully toward the pond's edge.
The crowd parted like tidewaters before her.
She wore crimson robes embroidered with a hundred blossoms, shimmering with iridescent brilliance. As her wide skirts swept across the ground, they unfurled like flowers bursting into simultaneous bloom.
The zither's melody arose—limpid and crystalline, harmonizing perfectly with the murmuring stream.
Suddenly, everyone felt as if a spring breeze had caressed their faces.
All impatience and anxiety from waiting evaporated, replaced by indescribable serenity.
Ripples upon the pond began transforming, vibrating ceaselessly around the musician as their epicenter.
As the music approached its climax, the melody abruptly shifted—like a phoenix's clarion cry startling down from the highest heavens.
Rustling sounds emerged from all directions.
The crowd stared in astonishment.
Sparrows and crows descended from branches, cuckoos and larks flew from wooded groves, while wild geese and cranes emerged through clouds.
Countless birds converged in multitudes, their plumage painting the sky with kaleidoscopic colors as they danced through the air.
They circled the female cultivator, refusing to land, chirping and trilling in endless chorus.
The zither's voice surged with passionate intensity, answered by a symphony of avian cries.
When the final note faded, the birds dispersed.
Mengzhi rose, her floral radiance retracting into stillness.
Silence enveloped the arena, broken only by the waterfall's eternal murmur.
The audience remained spellbound, feeling refreshed and revitalized, all weariness miraculously lifted.
Within the lakeside pavilion...
Wangshu praised: "Merely at Foundation Establishment, yet she invoked the phenomenon of Phoenix Paying Homage to the Birds. Truly exceptional talent."
Her tone shifted as she addressed a stern-faced female cultivator beside her: "Pity she's already taken a master."
The Celestial Sound Sect's youth-preservation arts remained peerless—Wangshu's beauty flourished at its peak. Yet her senior sister Jiangyun, whose cultivation rivaled her own, had aged beyond her prime, her hair now cascading silver.
Jiangyun's lips curved into a faint smile: "No matter. In master-disciple connections, destiny dictates its own course."
Besides them, four or five other Sound Cultivators from various sects—all zither masters—occupied the pavilion.
Yet everyone stood.
They had remained standing since the Music Examination began, through dusk's deepening glow.
Only one person sat.
Now that person's pale lips parted, uttering four indifferent words:
"Played rather well."
Hearing this, Wangshu suddenly felt warning bells toll in her heart.
She turned, casting a severe gaze toward the bamboo tower's top floor by the pond.
Miaoyan leaned against the railing, nodding distantly to her master while sighing inwardly.
Mengzhi had performed beyond herself today, reaching her absolute peak. Whether she ranked or not, she should harbor no regrets.
With this thought, Miaoyan calmly instructed her maid: "Fetch my zither."
As for the next participant—a mere nobody unfortunately scheduled after Mengzhi—it would likely conclude swiftly.
The maid presented a zither case with both hands.
Miaoyan opened it.
Five-colored Gathered Light burst forth, enhancing her flawless complexion with added radiance.
Just as Miaoyan predicted, when the next contestant appeared, the crowd remained immersed in the avian symphony, wishing they could beg Fairy Mengzhi to continue playing.
Seeing this new arrival, they felt her appearance was ill-timed—too abrupt, too soon.
The figure stood slender and graceful, clad in plain white robes, a veiled hat covering her head.
"Pray allow passage," she said steadily, her white gauze barely stirring, concealing her features.
The crowd watched her with concealed impatience.
Instead of taking her seat, she scanned her surroundings—seeking something, or perhaps someone.
A Deacon at the field's edge urged emotionlessly: "Contestant 3668, Azure Cliff Academy's He Qingqing.""
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