In the secret realm trial of the Holy Tower, there were two ways to achieve good results and obtain enough Holy Stones: either defeat the realm's great boss or hunt demonic beasts for their cores.
However, the whereabouts of the great boss, the Star-Moon Divine Tree, remained unknown. No matter how Shen Hefeng divined, the result was always the same—they would never obtain it. Continuing to pursue it would be as futile as drawing water with a bamboo basket.
Though frustrated, Wen Shuangbai had no other choice.
As a top performer in modern standardized education, she had plenty of exam experience.
If one problem proved too difficult, she would skip it and move on.
During the trial, there was no sense in stubbornly clinging to a single approach.
So, the six of them quickly adjusted their strategy and turned to hunting high-level demonic beasts in the secret realm instead.
Unfortunately, their luck took a turn for the worse. Over the next few days, they encountered almost no beasts.
Every time Shen Hefeng divined the location of a beast horde and led the team there, they either found the beasts already slain by the Violet Flame Sect or discovered that the turtle shell’s guidance was simply wrong.
That evening, they followed the turtle shell’s directions to what should have been a den of high-level wolves—only to find the cave completely empty. Not a single wolf, not even a strand of wolf fur.
Wen Shuangbai carefully inspected Shen Hefeng’s turtle shell but found nothing wrong with it. Tossing it back to him, she squatted on a rock at the cave entrance and sighed. "Shen the Second, you’ve lost your touch."
The baby-faced Taoist caught the turtle shell, his expression dark.
If the turtle shell wasn’t faulty, then someone else must be at fault—because it certainly couldn’t be his. "Someone’s sabotaging me!"
He prided himself as the top diviner of the Mystic Heaven Sect, not out of arrogance but from absolute confidence in his skills.
Moreover, locating demonic beasts was the simplest form of divination—how could he possibly be wrong?
"Someone must be tampering with the surrounding energy field," Shen Hefeng said through gritted teeth.
Diviners relied on the ambient energy to perceive the unseen threads of fate. If the energy field was disturbed, their perception would falter, leading to erroneous readings.
"The Violet Flame Sect’s diviner?" Wen Shuangbai narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"Him?" Shen Hefeng let out a mocking laugh. "Impossible. That diviner from the Violet Flame Sect isn’t even fit to lick my toes. He couldn’t pull this off in ten lifetimes. Only someone at the level of Pavilion Master Xu could manipulate the heavenly energy field like this."
Yet the strongest cultivator in the Star-Moon Valley secret realm was the male lead, Di Qi—a spellcaster, not a diviner. So if it wasn’t him, then who?
Frowning, Wen Shuangbai suppressed her doubts and asked Shen Hefeng, "Can you counter it?"
Shen Hefeng sighed with the air of an old sage. "Ah, Shuangbai, you must understand something about life—some things are simply beyond human power..."
Wen Shuangbai immediately knew the old Taoist was out of his depth. She hopped off the rock and went to discuss alternatives with the rest of the team.
Inside the Mystic Heaven Mirror, the group debated back and forth but still couldn’t come up with a solid plan. As night fell, they decided to rest in the cave for the time being.
Meanwhile, on the Mystic Heaven Mirror, other cultivators were also discussing the situation.
[How could this happen? Junior Brother Hefeng’s divinations have always been accurate before.]
[Who could be disrupting the heavenly energy field?]
[I bet it’s the Violet Flame Sect’s doing!]
[You Qingzhou folks are shameless! Your diviner’s incompetent, and now you’re blaming us? Even your crazy Taoist admitted it wasn’t our disciples.]
[I never said it was your disciples—maybe it’s your elders or pavilion masters? The Holy Tower is in your hands; who knows what shady things you’re up to behind the scenes?]
[Ha, I was thinking the same. This time, the Violet Flame Sect started closest to the Star-Moon Divine Tree, while Qingling Mountain was the farthest. What a coincidence!]
[Don’t slander us! We haven’t obtained the Star-Moon Divine Tree either. If we were really cheating, why haven’t we gotten it yet?]
[Maybe your elders didn’t expect the Star-Moon Divine Tree wouldn’t be where it was supposed to be. If it had been there, you’d have taken it already, wouldn’t you?]
[Did anyone else notice? In the last trial at Zhuoguang City, while other sects were wandering aimlessly, the Violet Flame Sect headed straight for the city lord’s mansion—like they already knew what the trial would be.]
[If Qingling Mountain can’t handle losing, then don’t participate in the Mystic Heaven Grand Competition!]
[I’m not from Di Province or Qingzhou—just a spectator. But this time, I have to speak up for the Violet Flame Sect. Every round of the Holy Tower trial is randomized; no one knows what’s coming. And though the Violet Flame Sect safeguards the Holy Tower, the tower has its own consciousness. Even their sect leader can’t interfere with the trials inside.]
【Same, I'm here for the drama too. I think this time it's Shen Hefeng's own miscalculation. With his arrogant personality, he'd never admit his own mistakes—he'd just throw dirt on others instead.】
【Thanks, everyone. Outsiders see clearly—there are still perceptive people around!】
...
The Mystic Heaven Mirror was buzzing with arguments, while inside its realm, Wen Shuangbai lay down to sleep after taking a fasting pill.
This was her habit—whenever she felt stuck, unsure of what to do next, she would empty her mind and sleep.
Night fell, quiet and still over the mountains.
Outside the cave, Li Zhuohua ran in wide circles around their campsite, her figure cutting through the darkness like a blade, swift as a gust of wind.
Meanwhile, Lu Jiayao sat perched on a rock by the cave entrance, counting his senior sister’s laps with a pout.
He had originally come out to check on her—after all, what if something happened to a girl running alone at night? But instead, he got roped into tallying her laps.
The chilly night wind made the pink-robed boy shiver as he huddled miserably.
He pricked up his ears, listening for the sound of Zhuohua’s return.
In just one hour, he had already counted fifty-nine laps. By now, he could hear her approach from far away.
Stretching his senses, Lu Jiayao could hear the soft, steady breathing of Yin Xuan and Wen Shuangbai sleeping inside the cave, the bubbling of Xie Ziyin’s alchemy furnace, and Shen Hefeng’s frustrated muttering as he yanked at his hair.
Further out, the mountain wind howled, its mournful wail echoing through the valley, rustling the leaves and carrying faint beastly cries from the distance.
Listening, Lu Jiayao unconsciously wet his lips and pulled out the spirit flute from his robe.
He really, really wanted to play a duet with the mountains.
Meanwhile, inside the cave...
Yin Xuan had long since drifted into a deep slumber.
In his dream, he found himself in a warm, comforting place, where something as soft as feathers gently brushed over his eyes, lulling him into peaceful oblivion.
In the corner behind him, Shen Hefeng crouched against the wall, fiddling with his tortoise shell, tugging at his hair and cursing under his breath as he recalculated again and again.
Since the local qi flow was disrupted, he’d take the opposite approach.
Even if it cost him his precious hair, he would divine a way to break this deadlock!
After nearly the entire night of effort, the previously unresponsive tortoise shell finally began to show faint lines—slowly, laboriously, like a constipated scribe.
At last! Heaven rewards the hairy!
The increasingly bald Taoist nearly wept with joy, not daring to blink as he stared at the shell, waiting for the divination to fully form.
Wen Shuangbai dreamed of people and things she hadn’t revisited in a long time.
That year, she was in seventh grade. Her Dad was hospitalized with a brain tumor.
After school on Friday, she sprinted all the way to the hospital, backpack bouncing, and pushed open the ward door.
By the bed, Mom looked up from feeding Dad liquid food, and Dad turned his head, smiling at her.
The Old Granny in the neighboring bed beamed kindly. "Ah, your daughter’s here to see you after school. My good-for-nothing grandson is in his last year of high school—he’s got extra classes today and won’t come till tomorrow."
"Hello, Granny!" Little Shuangbai chirped, skipping over after shutting the door. The old woman pressed a milk carton into her hands before she bounded toward her parents.
Just as she was about to leap into Mom’s arms—
A deafening, air-raid-siren-like shriek of a flute shattered her dream into pieces.
Wen Shuangbai jolted upright, her first thought: Holy crap, is it an earthquake?!
Xie Ziyin, measuring powder into his alchemy furnace with the precision of a former top neurosurgeon, flinched at the sudden noise. His steady hand jerked—too much powder. The entire batch was ruined. "......"
Shen Hefeng’s nearly formed divination dissolved into nothing. "......"
Not far away, Li Zhuohua, mid-sword-sprint, lost her focus from the flute’s sonic assault and plowed face-first into a tree. Crash-crash-crash—seven trees toppled in succession.
She scrambled to a halt, glaring in the direction of the sound.
That was Lu Jiayao’s flute... Had a demon beast attacked while she was away?!
The audacity to strike when she wasn’t there!
She raced back at top speed, only to find...
"......"
Half a cup of tea later, the five of them stood in a semicircle, staring dead-eyed at Lu Jiayao, who was lost in his ecstatic flute performance on the rock.
Xie Ziyin crossed his arms, stating flatly, "He’s breaking through to the next realm."
"Of all the damned times to have a breakthrough—right when my divination was about to complete?!" Shen Hefeng hissed venomously. "Knock him out!"
Li Zhuohua, a smear of blood on her forehead, cracked her knuckles. "I’ll do it!"
Yin Xuan, his silver hair sleep-mussed and eyes still half-shut, leaned drowsily against the tallest of them, Xie Ziyin. "But what if we break him?"
Xie Ziyin immediately recoiled with a look of distaste, instinctively sidling closer to Wen Shuangbai instead.
Wen Shuangbai glanced at the man who had suddenly closed the distance between them, her eyes questioning: "?"
Xie Ziyin didn’t bother addressing the confusion in her gaze. His attention remained fixed on Lu Jiayao, who stood motionless in deep concentration. With cool detachment, he warned his teammate against the ill-advised plan: "If his brain gets knocked around, don’t expect me to fix it."
Hearing this, Wen Shuangbai withdrew her gaze from Xie Ziyin and turned back to Lu Jiayao, her eyes softening with something like pity. "Never mind," she sighed. "This poor boy isn’t the sharpest to begin with."
