Half a shichen later, Andy arrived at the summit of Xiuyun Peak with the rest of the crowd.
The first thing that caught his eye was a white jade archway, thirty or forty meters tall, with the words "Lakeview Terrace" inscribed across it in bold, sweeping calligraphy.
Beyond the archway lay an enormous platform, over a thousand meters across, paved with uniform slabs of blue stone, each roughly a zhang on a side. The weather was clear, and the view from the platform was vast—looking down the mountainside, the inky black expanse of Black Water Lake stretched into the distance. Most of the surrounding scenery, however, was still hidden beneath a sea of pale cloud and mist.
At the northern edge of the platform stood a square, weathered stone pavilion, roughly six or seven meters tall and ten-odd meters on each side. Climbing vines draped over its roof and wound around its four stone pillars, giving the entire structure an air of deep antiquity.
But neither the pavilion nor the breathtaking view was what truly held the attention of the assembled cultivators. Nearly every pair of eyes was fixed on the six or seven white-robed cultivators standing inside the pavilion. All wore identical robes, and all were at the early stage of Foundation Establishment or above. The three who had flown overhead on their artifacts were clearly among them.
These Foundation Establishment seniors were evidently the Taixu Sect's recruitment team. Realizing that their fates now rested with the people before them, the gathered cultivators grew tense and serious.
After a while longer, every last cultivator had reached the Lakeview Terrace. Four or five hundred Qi Refinement cultivators stood scattered across the vast platform—some gazing into the distance, some standing with bowed heads in silent anticipation, and small clusters whispering among themselves. The lowest cultivation among them was the eighth layer of Qi Refinement; the highest reached the twelfth. Those at the tenth layer and below made up the clear majority.
The cultivator surnamed Leng, who had been standing motionless for some time, slowly drew his gaze back from the distance and let it sweep across every Qi Refinement cultivator on the platform, one by one.
Each cultivator felt that ice-cold gaze pass over them. In an instant, the entire platform fell silent.
The cultivator surnamed Leng took two steps forward and spoke in a tone three degrees colder than his stare: "Today is the third day of the Taixu Sect's disciple recruitment. If there is anyone here who has no business being present, you may leave now."
He paused. When no one on the platform so much as stirred, he continued: "Since all of you are here to register as disciples of the Taixu Sect, listen carefully to what I have to say. Every word I speak directly determines whether or not you enter these gates."
Every one of the several hundred Qi Refinement cultivators—Andy included—listened in dead silence, barely daring to breathe.
"Any cultivator possessing a Heavenly Spirit Root, Variant Spirit Root, or Dual-Element Spirit Root, as well as anyone with a special constitution or innate gift—step forward to this spot." He indicated an open area beside the stone pavilion.
A ripple of movement passed through the platform. After a moment, five cultivators stepped out of the crowd under the envious stares of the rest and took their places by the pavilion.
"Good." The cultivator surnamed Leng nodded and addressed the five: "You will follow this Uncle Tu to Hanyang Peak. Once your spirit root aptitudes have been confirmed, you will be admitted directly as inner-sect disciples of the Taixu Sect."
A square-faced cultivator stepped out from among the seven or eight Foundation Establishment cultivators in the pavilion—evidently the "Uncle Tu" just mentioned.
Uncle Tu produced a canoe-shaped artifact and tossed it into the air. It expanded rapidly against the wind, reaching seven or eight meters in length within a few breaths and becoming a full-sized wooden boat. He leapt lightly aboard and said to the five cultivators: "Get on."
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The five scrambled up onto the boat. The moment they were settled, Uncle Tu sent the vessel streaking eastward in a trail of green light.
Most of the cultivators remaining on the platform watched the five depart with burning envy. The cultivator surnamed Leng had made it perfectly clear: as long as their aptitudes checked out, these five would become core disciples of Jinyan Kingdom's foremost sect without any further testing. Who could help being jealous?
After Uncle Tu's departure, the cultivator surnamed Leng continued: "Next—any cultivator under the age of thirty who has reached the eleventh layer or above in their foundational technique, step forward."
Two or three cultivators immediately strode out with their chins held high. Then another twenty-odd followed, Andy among them.
The looks from the remaining cultivators were considerably more mixed this time—some admiring, some envious, and more than a few tinged with contempt. It was well known that certain families, eager to get their younger members into a major sect like the Taixu Sect, would force-feed them huge quantities of pills to artificially inflate their cultivation. These cultivators might have reached a high layer on paper, but once the supply of pills was cut off, their future progress would be all but impossible.
Clearly, Andy and the others were being lumped into this category. Most of the looks directed at them carried a hint of disdain.
Andy paid no attention whatsoever. He stood with his head lowered, eyes on his nose, nose on his heart—the very picture of docility.
The cultivator surnamed Leng assigned a middle-aged female cultivator surnamed Chen to escort this group of twenty-odd to Hanyang Peak as well. He told them: "At Hanyang Peak, a senior uncle will verify your bone age and cultivation level. If everything checks out, you will be admitted as outer-sect disciples."
The woman surnamed Chen produced a jade ruler artifact and poured spiritual power into it. The ruler expanded rapidly until it was over two meters wide and more than thirty meters long. This time, without waiting for instructions, the twenty-odd cultivators—Andy included—stepped aboard on their own initiative. Once the woman herself was on, the jade ruler lifted smoothly and began drifting toward Hanyang Peak.
From below, the voice of the cultivator surnamed Leng reached them: "As for the rest of you—you will each undergo individual assessment with one of us. Those who pass will also have the opportunity to become outer-sect disciples…"
The jade ruler was presumably not a dedicated flight artifact like Uncle Tu's wooden boat, because it traveled somewhat slower—though it was reasonably stable. For Andy, experiencing flight for the very first time, this was actually a welcome thing.
He stood carefully near the center of the ruler, wind rushing past on both sides. He was a little frightened, but couldn't resist glancing downward. An expanse of lush green filled his vision, dotted with white clouds of every size. Several enormous waterfalls plunged from towering peaks in the distance, and the slopes of other mountains were studded with pavilions and towers. Here and there, cultivators riding streaks of colored light darted between the peaks in a scene of busy activity. The view was the kind of thing he had only ever imagined, and just a few moments of it lifted his spirits completely. He forgot his fear and simply drank in the scenery of this immortal realm.
Unfortunately, the flight lasted barely half an hour before the jade ruler brought them to Hanyang Peak. This was the tallest peak in the Kuanglu range, its upper half swallowed by thick cloud cover from the midpoint up, while below the clouds more than a hundred halls and pavilions clung to its slopes—the most densely built area in the entire mountain range.
The jade ruler came to rest before one of these halls, over a hundred meters tall. Andy looked up and read three characters on the plaque above its entrance: "Hall of Inquiry." The characters appeared plain enough at first glance, yet carried an indescribable depth of meaning. As Andy studied them more closely, his vision began to blur—the characters seemed to come alive, transforming into flickering human shapes that trembled and clashed like immortals in battle. He realized something was wrong and tried to wrench his gaze away.
"Hmph!" A sharp, cold grunt cut through his ears. Andy snapped awake and tore his eyes from the plaque, noticing that several others had been similarly trapped by the characters.
The middle-aged woman spoke in a clear voice: "These characters were inscribed several hundred years ago by a great elder of our sect. They contain a trace of illusory power. Any cultivator below the middle stage of Foundation Establishment who sees them for the first time will likely find their gaze drawn in and their mind pulled into the illusion."
A few cultivators who hadn't yet looked up heard this and promptly raised their heads for a look—only to fall into the same trap without exception. The woman had to bark another sharp reprimand to bring them back.
Having all learned their lesson the hard way, the twenty-odd cultivators followed meekly behind the middle-aged woman without so much as a wayward glance.
She led them into the main hall of the Hall of Inquiry. The hall was enormous—nearly a hundred meters high and several hundred meters across. Facing the entrance were two large armchairs at the head of the room, with two rows of smaller square-backed chairs arranged facing each other below. A white-haired, white-bearded old man who looked to be in his sixties or seventies sat dozing in one of the smaller chairs, eyes half-shut.