At this moment, in the assembly hall of Qingling Academy.
Pavilion Master Xu, along with a group of elders, was observing the final battle of the Sacred Tower.
Before them hovered eighteen Mystic Heaven Mirrors.
Xu Jingshu’s gaze fell upon the motionless Wen Shuangbai, and she suddenly smiled knowingly. "Little Wen has obtained the inheritance," she remarked.
"I’m not worried about her," Elder Cao said, his eyes darting busily among the six disciples from Qingling Mountain.
Xie Ziyin was meditating, absorbing the essence of the stars.
As for Lu Jiayao—this silly boy truly embodied the saying "fortune favors fools."
The path he walked was riddled with obstacles, and he often got stuck.
But it didn’t matter, because the senior sound cultivator who wanted to pass on his legacy took a liking to him. Seeing Lu Jiayao struggle, the senior secretly lowered the difficulty for him.
In short, the treatment Lu Jiayao received in the Sacred Tower was worlds apart from that of Shen Hefeng, who had been left unchosen.
With the senior’s help, Lu Jiayao smoothly reached the end and obtained the sound cultivator’s inheritance.
Coincidentally, this senior was a former grand elder of Qingling Mountain who had passed away three hundred years ago.
Back then, the elder had searched the sect thoroughly but never found a suitable successor—he sought someone of pure and virtuous character.
Now, his wish had finally been fulfilled.
As for Zhuohua—
She had already obtained a trace of the Cold Mountain Sword Intent in Star Moon Valley, and she was a descendant of the Cold Mountain lineage to begin with.
Before the final battle began, the elders had privately speculated that the sect leader’s daughter would most likely inherit the legacy of Sage Li Hanshan.
Sure enough, Li Zhuohua had chosen Li Hanshan’s path of inheritance.
The sword saint’s trials were as difficult as scaling the heavens, but Li Zhuohua showed no fear. Instead, the challenge only fueled her fighting spirit, her eyes blazing with excitement as she relished every moment.
"Amazing! As expected of my ancestor—you didn’t disappoint me!" On the screen, Li Zhuohua wiped the blood from her face and charged toward the next trial. "Again!"
Cao Xing’s eye twitched at the sight.
But these disciples weren’t the ones he was truly concerned about.
His worries lay with the remaining two.
One was the unchosen Shen Hefeng.
Cao Xing studied the disciple sitting motionless on the ground and asked, "Pavilion Master, has he entered the Nether Path?"
Xu Jingshu nodded slightly, a trace of worry in her eyes. "The Nether Path within the main tower is no ordinary trial. This child…"
To put it kindly, he was bold and skilled. To put it bluntly, he was reckless to the point of madness.
Back when she and the other sect leaders had participated in the Mystic Heaven Grand Competition and entered the final battle, Xu Jingshu had sensed the immense danger lurking within the Sacred Tower’s Nether Path.
Old Medical Cultivator Ye, who was of the same generation as Xu Jingshu, asked, "Old Xu, why didn’t you try the Nether Path back then?"
Xu Jingshu picked up a scroll, leaned back in her chair, and replied, "I already had an inheritance."
The only reason Shen Hefeng was risking his life to enter the Nether Path was that he had no inheritance to begin with.
Otherwise, was he stupid? Couldn’t he sense the danger?
But he refused to leave empty-handed after coming this far.
All his life, everything he had gained was earned through relentless effort.
Here, too, he would fight tooth and nail, even if it meant gambling with his life.
Besides, he wasn’t alone anymore—he had a few unreliable friends who would at least remember to burn some paper money for him during Qingming Festival.
And so, after much difficulty, Shen Hefeng managed to project his spiritual consciousness into the Nether Path—only to be immediately struck by lightning, leaving him charred inside and out.
Before the Mystic Heaven Mirrors, the onlookers stared in silence at the now-crispy Daoist.
"…"
Inside the Nether Path, Shen Hefeng’s spiritual form flickered weakly, but he still found the energy to curse the heavens, the earth, and the heavenly lightning.
Honestly, the sensation was familiar.
Back in Star Moon Valley, he had been struck the same way—same flavor, only more intense here.
Having been struck before, Shen Hefeng had experience. He immediately fled, strategizing as he ran.
Thinking of strategies reminded him of a conversation he’d had with his teammates after the Star Moon Valley competition.
"Brother Shen, what have you been up to lately?" Lu Jiayao had asked curiously. "You’ve been holed up in your room, not even going out to tell fortunes."
"I’m getting revenge!" Shen Hefeng had growled.
Lu Jiayao blinked. "Huh?"
"He’s searching the Nether Path for the lightning that nearly killed him," Wen Shuangbai interjected, stealing a crab from Xie Ziyin’s chopsticks without looking up. "But honestly, Shen, you should stop. That lightning was probably placed there as a trial for us."
Xie Ziyin, unfazed by the theft, added bluntly, "He’s only searching because he knows he won’t find it. If the lightning were real, do you think he’d dare go near it?"
Wen Shuangbai nodded in realization. "Xie, you’re absolutely right."
Amid their bickering, Li Zhuohua suddenly slammed the table and asked, "If you encountered heavenly lightning, how would you fight it?"
Lu Jiayao scratched his head. "I don’t know, but I don’t think I’d get struck…"
Shen Hefeng had immediately whacked him with his chopsticks, and the two had tussled.
Nearby, Yin Xuan had silently floated away, guarding his bowl as he muttered weakly, "I’d just… wait to die."
"I’d bide my time, find its source, and then claim it for myself," Wen Shuangbai mused, rubbing her hands greedily. "Heavenly lightning counts as a treasure, right?"
Xie Ziyin hummed in agreement before adding dryly, "So who’s the dog here?"
Another round of chaotic insults had ensued.
Afterward, Shen Hefeng never encountered the lightning in the Nether Path, and the matter was forgotten.
But now, he decided to take Wen Shuangbai’s ridiculous advice.
…
Watching the Mystic Heaven Mirror, where Shen Hefeng’s head continued to emit smoke while he stubbornly clung to life, Xu Jingshu suddenly let out a soft sound of surprise.
She straightened, performed a quick divination, and then smiled in realization.
"Perhaps," she said sincerely, happy for this disciple with an unfortunate fate, "not being chosen is Shen Hefeng’s greatest opportunity. I hope he seizes it."
Reassured by Pavilion Master Xu’s words, Cao Xing turned his attention to the last unlucky disciple—Yin Xuan.
Fortunately, Yin Xuan had encountered an opportunity.
Unfortunately, the path he walked was the longest, most winding, most convoluted, and most arduous, with the most varied trials.
After barely clearing one stage, the long-haired swordsman stood dazed, leaning against a wall with his silver sword as support.
He didn’t understand.
Slaying demons and monsters was one thing.
But why did a swordsman’s inheritance require him to sew a thousand garments?
Well, at least he actually knew how.
As a child, he had mended clothes for his two junior sisters…
Yin Xuan wanted to rest for a moment, but the moment he leaned back, the world spun around him.
In the next instant, he found himself at the foot of a mountain—a mountain covered in countless gleaming swords.
Every sword he encountered was better than the silver one that had been by his side since childhood, yet he felt no temptation—only exhaustion.
So tired.
Why did he still have to climb this mountain?
Yin Xuan resigned himself to the task, trudging up the Sword Mountain with a bitter expression. He pulled out the finest sword at the summit, only to cast it aside and replace it with his own silver blade.
He had always believed that a sword cultivator's strength lay not in the weapon they wielded.
Because Yin Xuan was free from greed, the mountain’s illusions of countless swords held no power over him.
And so, the Sword Mountain crumbled. After a long and arduous journey, Yin Xuan finally arrived at the inheritance hall meant for him alone.
