Xi Ping thought it over, decided that he was already here and the immortal probably couldn’t throw him out over a hammer, so he openly gave his full name. Next, he saluted, and readily acknowledged his wrongdoing: “Immortal, I’m sorry. I’ve spent all my life limited to Jinping. I’ve never seen such a unique gong. And the sect rules don’t say you aren’t allowed to take the straw children’s hammers, so I borrowed it to have a look. I didn’t expect that you would oversleep, too, and that I would almost make you miss morning class.” 

Immortal Luo: “…” 

You’re the one who overslept! 

Zhou Xi’s teeth hurt when he heard this. He had seen this Viscount of Yongning ten years before at his third older brother’s side. At the time, the kid had been only the size of a bean, but he had already been a handful. He could make the Grand Tutor lose his temper twice in one day. He hadn’t thought that after all this time, the ill-fated connection would find him, and they would once again be classmates; it was simply like returning to the imperial study in a dream. 

“Xi Shiyong.” Drawing out his childish voice, Immortal Luo fiercely chewed over Xi Ping’s name. “Interesting.” 

Then he waved his “water sleeves” and paid Xi Ping no more attention. Looking down on all the disciples from on high, he said, “I am Luo Qingshi. I have cultivated at the Latent Cultivation Temple for a hundred fifty years. You are the fifteenth class of mortal disciples to be brought before me. Many of you are useless and are only here thanks to the blessings of your ancestors, and I presume that you know it. Let’s be frank: on the path of cultivation, you have only yourself to rely on. Just because you’ve entered the Latent Cultivation Temple, it doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily be able to open your spiritual eye.” 

All the disciples’ families had some connections. They all knew that they must not offend the Latent Cultivation Temple’s “midget raksha.”¹ Now the Qiankun Tower was silent; no one wanted to stand out and catch his eye. 

“On the first day of class, I want to get familiar with your faces.” Luo Qingshi’s eyelids drooped. His eyes roamed over the disciples and fell on Xi Ping. “Let’s start with you—Xi-shidi.” 

No sooner had he spoken than Xi Ping felt an invisible hand grab the front of his clothes and yank him forward. His hip nearly hit the corner of the table. Xi Ping twisted his butt at the last moment and narrowly dodged the corner of the stone table. Before he could curse, he had already been dragged onto a small platform at the foot of the stone steps. 

Next, his vision swirled, and he was taken to a narrow path only wide enough for one person to pass through. 

Luo Qingshi’s and his classmates’ voices instantly became muted, as though they had been cut off by something. 

Xi Ping had been pulled into a mustard seed by General Zhi before at the Blissful Village. With that experience, he knew that it had happened this time as well. He thought that mustard seeds really did resemble their owners: even Huge Immortal Luo’s mustard seed was particularly spacious! 

Luo Qingshi said, “This is called a ‘spiritual sense mustard seed.’ It can test whether you are sharp or dull. The so-called ‘spiritual sense’ is the third eye between your brows that can distinguish between the clear from the turbid, observe matter and inspect energy. Today is my first time seeing all of you, so I’m going to use it to inform myself in order to be able to provide instruction according to your aptitude in the year to come.

“There are six forking paths inside the mustard seed. The first fork is a one in two choice, the second is one in four, and so on, until the final fork, which has sixty-four paths. You can only leave by one path—the path where the spiritual energy is strongest. If you go the wrong way, the spiritual energy will gradually thin out, and you’ll come to a dead end and have to turn back to choose again. There are also a few wrong paths that you have to be careful of. The turbid energy in them is thick, and you might encounter anything. If anyone has a dull spiritual sense and bad luck…” At this point, Luo Qingshi gave a cold laugh. “Then let’s hope you’re blessed with long life. Those who can’t get out within the burning of an incense stick are the ones with a naturally dull spiritual sense. You’ll have to come to morning class a shichen earlier than the others.”

Xi Ping: “…” 

A shichen earlier than even three marks past the Hour of the Rabbit—did he want to organize them to get up and crow in the dawn?

“Straw child, light the…” said Luo Qingshi. 

“Excuse me,” His Fourth Highness spoke up loudly, “Disciple Zhou Xi is confused about something and would like to ask shixiong for guidance.” 

Luo Qingshi raised his eyelids and glanced at him. He said, ambiguously, “I see, the fourth prince… Your Highness, what are your instructions?”

“There’s no need for that.” Zhou Xi straightened up and said, neither haughty nor humble, “Excuse me, Immortal, you just mentioned ‘spiritual energy’ and ‘turbid energy’ several times, and you said that we can only leave the mustard seed by finding the path with the strongest spiritual energy. But you haven’t yet instructed us on what ‘spiritual energy’ and ‘turbid energy’ are…”

Before he could finish, Luo Qingshi interrupted him in his young-old voice: “Babies don’t know how to speak and don’t know what ‘sweet’ and ‘bitter’ are, but they smile if they eat candy and cry if they lick medicine. You’re all old enough to have personal names, courtesy names, and positions in society. Are you telling me I need to teach you starting from how to dress yourselves and how to eat?”

Zhou Xi’s status was high. The Latent Cultivation Temple’s half-immortal stewards were polite to him, and his fellow disciples all gave way to him somewhat. No one had yet been this rude to him. In spite of himself, his expression darkened. 

“Light the incense stick!” said Luo Qingshi. 

Xi Ping could hear what people were saying outside, but he couldn’t see them. 

And to the other disciples in the Latent Cultivation Temple, it looked as though Xi Ping were inside a transparent glazed ball, with his feet standing on emptiness three spans off the ground, suspended in midair.

Inside the mustard seed, space and dimension were folded in on themselves. They saw Xi Ping taking steps as though walking forward, his stride quite long, but he remained suspended in place the whole time without moving. Only the path inside the mustard seed kept changing. Soon, he came to the first fork in the road.

All this spiritual energy and turbid energy sounded like so much nonsense. Xi Ping, at any rate, didn’t understand a word of it. 

Since he wouldn’t be able to work anything out by thinking it over with nothing to go on, it was better not to waste the mental effort, just put his head down and take a wild guess. If he guessed wrong, at worst he would go back. 

So before Immortal Luo could finish dragging the words “incense stick” out two li long, Xi Ping had already chosen the left hand path without any hesitation. 

Seeing him so self-confident, the other disciples thought he had to know what he was doing. Only Zhou Xi, glancing at Luo Qingshi’s malicious smile, thought: Xi Shiyong must have chosen wrong. 

The midget demon was famous for his pettiness, and the spiritual sense mustard seed was entirely under his control. If he wanted to give someone a hard time, then likely the first wrong path would be the dangerous path with so-called “thick turbid energy.” 

Zhou Xi hesitated a moment. He thought of Prince Zhuang. In fact, he suspected that his san-ge’s hand and eye could reach to the Latent Cultivation Temple… Anyway, it was for the best if he and the Viscount of Yongning appeared to get along, so he wanted to say something to warn Xi Ping. 

But the situation inside the mustard seed changed faster than he expected. Before Zhou Xi could decide what to say, he saw Xi Ping stop in his tracks. Almost at the same time, the transparent mustard seed darkened without warning. Inside it, Xi Ping was swallowed by darkness!

Next, ear-splitting screams came from the darkness. The disciples seated in the front row, taken by surprise, were so startled they nearly overturned the tables of the row behind them.

Inside the mustard seed, Xi Ping only felt a horrifying chill hit him in the face. Before he could work out what was going on, a thick smell of blood surged up from the ground. In the darkness, a fierce, fanged head suddenly appeared, big as a watermelon, its bloody maw open, wailing as it came towards him as if it wanted to take his head off in one bite!

On this narrow path, there was nowhere to dodge to either side!

The smile on Luo Qingshi’s face became even more apparent. “I did tell you to be careful. Some people…”

The next moment, he was interrupted by another bellow. 

Xi Ping had a contrary disposition. When he was in a good mood and met someone he liked, perhaps he might occasionally make a concession. When it came to a confrontation, he never gave way.

When he had been six years old, this kid had run into a vicious dog and had dared to pick up a stick and step forward—never mind now, when he was as tall as a house. 

As soon as he saw there was no place to hide, Xi Ping simply shot forward a step and ran up against the evil head; he was knocked backward a dozen paces. 

The head had displayed its sharp teeth in an intention to bite him; how could Xi Ping agree to that? So he exerted all his strength and grabbed the lumpy skin of its cheeks! 

The head’s skin was ulcerated, all mottled with blood; it was impossible to get a clear look at it. This was the first time anyone had ever teasingly pinched its cheeks. It was dazed for a moment. Then, in a towering rage, it released a roar towards this great scoundrel. 

Its roar seemed to be able to pour right into a person’s brain. Xi Ping was dizzied by taking this roar right to the face. 

Xi Ping’s hands weren't free to cover his ears. All he could do was open his mouth and absorb the ear-splitting roar, but he felt a pain in his chest and wanted to throw up. 

So he simply let loose and returned the compliment—it was better to shout than to vomit, anyway. 

These two huddled together and howled in pain for fully half a mark, quite fulsomely. The noise make the whole Qiankun Tower tremble. All the disciples were dumbfounded, not knowing what was happening inside.

Luo Qingshi was at the end of his rope. “Shut up, both of you!”

In answer to his voice, the head inside the mustard seed turned into a wisp of green smoke and vanished.

Xi Ping shot forward from inertia and nearly hit the ground. His throat was parched. He coughed a couple times and found that he had returned to the very first forking path. 

The mustard seed cleared once more, and Xi Ping reappeared before the eyes of the disciples. 

Luo Qingshi shot a glance at the incense table and knew that this brat definitely wouldn’t be able to get out of the mustard seed. 

He sat down and closed his eyes. In a drawl, he “sang,” “Half the incense stick has already burned, and Xi-shidi hasn’t yet passed the first fork…”

Inside the mustard seed, Xi Ping refused to listen. He quickly turned towards the righthand fork.

His legs were long and he ran fast. Soon he saw the second fork.

Xi Ping stopped and looked down at his feet thoughtfully—with his superb hearing, he had heard that the tone of his footsteps sounded different on the different paths: when he had been walking on the wrong path, his footsteps had sounded slightly heavy, as if they had an echo; but on the correct path to the right, his footsteps sounded a little “cleaner.” 

There was no time to think it over. Xi Ping decided to give it another try. He closed his eyes and quickly took a step into each of the four paths. As expected, there was a slight difference in the weight of his footsteps on each of the four paths.

Xi Ping chose the one where the sound of his footsteps was lightest and charged in. After this, he followed the same pattern with the other forks—just as Luo Qingshi had said, the spiritual energy on the wrong paths became scarcer and scarcer, and the spiritual energy on the correct paths became denser and denser. The further he went, the easier it became to distinguish the differences in the weight of his footsteps.

The disciples had seen how he had chosen the most dangerous path when he had a fifty-fifty chance of being right and had tragically wasted half his time at the outset, so they’d thought that what would follow would be even more horrifying. They hadn’t expected him to reach the end in one breath, like a runaway donkey. 

It was as if he had taken the wrong path at the beginning in order to amuse them! 

But Luo Qingshi thought that Xi Ping was a goner. He hadn’t even opened his eyes. His speech was slow, so he hadn’t even finished his previous sentence when Xi Ping ran through the final forking path. 

Totally unaware, Luo Qingshi was still putting on his one-man show: “…it seems that he wants to come beat the gong at the Qiankun Tower at three marks past the Hour of the Tiger tomorrow.” 

Right after he spoke, he heard someone respond from the platform: “Well, I’m out. Do I still have to go?” 

As if someone had stepped on his tail, Luo Qingshi jumped to his feet. He saw Xi Ping standing outside the mustard seed, safe and sound.

Xi Ping was normally very active. Though he had just run a big, terrifying circle, after he got out, he stood there for only a moment before catching his breath. A strand of hair, not tied up properly in the morning, fell loose. He pushed it back carelessly. Not only did this fail to make him look disheveled, it gave him a unique sort of unrestrained air. 

Luo Qingshi’s round eyes glared so hard that their shape distorted. He seemed to want to bring heavenly lightning down on Xi Ping’s ancestral tomb. Just then, Zhou Xi put in another timely word: “Shixiong, there are a few more people in this class than in previous years. If each of us has to have his spiritual sense tested, I think we should hurry up.” 

Luo Qingshi pressed his lips together into a flat line. With a struggle, he restrained his temper, waved his sleeve, and swept Xi Ping back to his seat. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Good. Good, Xi Shiyong. Interesting. No wonder you think pretty well of yourself.” 

Then he pointed bitterly to a straw child. “First-class spiritual sense, record it. Next—”

The disciples who had been watching the fun lowered their heads in unison. The atmosphere became as sorrowful as though they were a group of filial descendants mourning their deceased elders. 

As soon as Luo Qingshi extended his hand, the straw child next to him turned around with a rustle and handed him the disciple roster. Xi Ping’s name happened to be last on the list, so Luo Qingshi simply went back up the list starting from him. “Yao Qi, Yao Ziming.” 

While Yao Qi stepped up, trembling, Zhou Xi took the opportunity to say quietly to Xi Ping, “Immortal Luo is around the middle established foundation phase. He’s an elder even to Heaven’s Design Pavilion. Shiyong, though he won’t get into a serious fight with mortals like us who haven’t opened our spiritual eyes yet, you still shouldn’t tease him with your natural talents.” 

Xi Ping understood the beginning of this, but he had no idea what His Highness meant by the last sentence and said, bewildered, “When did I tease him?” 

Zhou Xi gave him an “as long as you understand” look and didn’t speak to him again. 

Just now, hearing Luo Qingshi announce “first-class spiritual sense,” the way Zhou Xi looked at Xi Ping had changed—a natural “first-class spiritual sense” occurred in less than one in ten thousand people. They were the legendary people who could close their eyes when placing a bet and win. When it came to instincts, theirs might be even more accurate than an ordinary half-immortal’s. 

A person like this couldn’t have chosen wrong at the first fork to begin with. 

So Zhou Xi concluded: Xi Shiyong must have done it on purpose. 

He had heard long ago that the Marquis of Yongning’s son was brash and insolent. Zhou Xi glanced at Xi Ping’s look of “fake innocence” and felt that the reality surpassed the rumors—the man himself was even more arrogant than the stories made him sound. 

Meanwhile, Yao Qi had already gone into the spiritual sense mustard seed. 

Perhaps because of his diarrhea the night before, Yao Qi’s legs were shaking so hard it was visible from the outside of his robe. He was on edge as he walked, bent over, wanting nothing better than to plaster his belly to the ground and crawl. Each time he came to a fork, Yao Qi had to stop and mutter to himself for ages before finally making a decision. It was unclear whether he was casting a spell or praying for the protection of his ancestors. 

But though he worked hard, his luck was truly poor. 

He had just gone past the second fork when something happened inside the mustard seed; it went dark again. 

If you said that Xi Ping had been punished by malice, then Yao Qi’s bad luck was purely his own. Even Luo Qingshi hadn’t thought that he would run into the worst option.

Before Yao Qi could take a clear look to see what was happening, he instinctively turned and ran. But it was too late. 

Soon, he was also swallowed up by a ball of black energy. Compared to Xi Ping’s playful duet, the sounds this time were far more tragic. First, an ominous sound of tearing silk came from the darkness, followed by high-pitched shrieks interspersed with the sound of something sharp cutting through flesh… The disciples in the front few rows simply couldn’t sit still any longer. One after another, they shifted their seats back. 

Only when an incense stick had completely burned down did the pitch-black mustard seed spit him out. 

The darkness dispersed. Little Young Master Yao hugged the ground. His back seemed to have been torn up by a wild beast. Several claw marks had rolled back the skin. 

Yao Qi, on his last gasp, lay on the ground, his face lurid as incense paper. Under their eyes, he breathed in without breathing out. 

All the private conversations in the Qiankun Tower instantly fell silent. 

Luo Qingshi held his nose and distastefully waved a hand. Two straw children stepped forward at a uniform speed and lifted Yao Qi. They put an elixir pill into his mouth. The elixir truly was an immortal product; as soon as it entered his mouth, the wounds on Yao Qi’s back rapidly healed, and color immediately returned to his face. By the time he was put onto a stone chair, he had slowly come to and could sit upright. 

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he heard Luo Qingshi announce: “For tomorrow’s morning class, come to the Qiankun Tower a shichen early. Next.” 

Hearing this tragic news, Little Young Master Yao’s eyes rolled up, and he fainted again. 

Instantly, Xi Ping was surrounded by imploring gazes from all sides. He didn’t know which way to look. All he could do was lower his head and quietly share the answer: “Your footsteps sound heavier on the wrong paths. There’s an echo.”

The disciples, willing to turn to anyone in a crisis, quickly noted it down. But Zhou Xi frowned and put in a word: “Don’t just listen to what someone else tells you. Everyone’s spiritual sense has a different degree of acuity. It’s easy to go wrong if you put too much faith into someone else’s experience. If you’re really lost, when you get into the mustard seed, you can try clearing your mind of extraneous thoughts, closing your eyes, and walking forward. I think that it won’t be too hard to pass levels meant to test the spiritual senses of mortal disciples like us. As long as you don’t panic, you should all be able to get out.” 

Xi Ping felt that he was making good sense, so he nodded and chimed in, “Yes, that’s true.” 

Zhou Xi gave him an unfathomable look—the reason that the “spiritual sense” was called the “third eye” was that it was of chaos, above all the senses. 

Only a half-immortal whose spiritual eye had opened could transfer his spiritual sense to sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste. This was called “linking the spiritual sense.” 

If he could already link his spiritual sense, what was he doing here? This Xi Shiyong was disrespectful towards his elders and got up to petty tricks; with his classmates, he blurted out boasts and intentionally misled them. He was a real piece of work. 

Just as Zhou Xi had said, though Luo Qingshi looked peevish, he didn’t deliberately make it hard on the disciples. When the difference between spiritual and turbid inside the mustard seed was slight and hard to distinguish, there were also few paths, so it was easy to muddle through. Later, though there were more and more paths, the spiritual energy also gradually thickened. As long as the disciples were focused enough, sixty to seventy percent of them could feel their way out with their eyes closed before the incense stick had finished burning. 

Apart from Xi Ping, who had been the target of malice, and Yao Qi with his unusual “luck,” no one else caused the mustard seed to darken. The vast majority of the wrong paths only came to dead ends; all you had to do was turn back. 

Among them, the steadiest were the Lin family’s direct descendant Lin Zhenfeng and His Fourth Highness Zhou Xi. 

Since he was six years old, Zhou Xi would be blindfolded and given spiritual stones to determine their grade. He walked easily into the mustard seed and closed his eyes. At each fork, he reached out a hand and felt around for a moment, and in a few breaths he would choose a path. He went through all six forks only once, not having to retrace a single step. In less than a mark, he was out. Amid the marveling of the disciples, he gave Luo Qingshi a leisurely salute.

But Luo Qingshi didn’t so much as raise his eyelids. He waved a hand at him. “Fine, come down.” 

Zhou Xi thought nothing of it. Wearing the appropriate smile, he returned. But before he had sat back down, he heard Luo Qingshi say to the straw child next to him: “Second class spiritual sense.” 

The smile on Zhou Xi’s face instantly froze. 

Luo Qingshi said, “That’s everyone tested. Those who haven’t qualified…” 

Zhou Xi spoke: “Please instruct me, shixiong. By what standards do you separate spiritual sense into grades? If I know where I have fallen short, in the future, I’ll be able to make up through hard work what I lack in natural talent.” 

“What I tested was inborn spiritual sense. It doesn’t matter that you’ve all trained with spiritual stones since you were little,” Luo Qingshi said impatiently. “But it’s good that you know you need to make up for your natural deficiencies with hard work. Keep it up.” 

These words sounded like praise, but Zhou Xi felt unspeakably awkward. 

As if he was afraid he didn’t feel awkward enough yet, Luo Qingshi, at this point, unable to resist, glanced at Xi Ping. “If you work hard for ten years or so, you’ll be able to make up for the inborn deficiency.”

Xi Ping: “…”

What did this person mean by sowing discord in broad daylight?

“I forgot to say, you have an allowance of spiritual stones at the Latent Cultivation Temple, three blue jades each month. Whether you’re clearing your spiritual eyes or controlling immortal tools, you’ll need to use spiritual stones. All of the Latent Cultivation Temple’s half-immortal stewards, as well as us instructors, have the right to apply rewards and penalties to your spiritual stone allowance.” Luo Qingshi shut the roster of disciples. “Each time you’re late for morning class, one spiritual stone will be deducted. Those of you who didn’t test up to standard for spiritual sense just now, I’ll see you tomorrow at three marks past the Hour of the Tiger. Don’t be late.”

Then the sky blue figure flickered. Luo Qingshi’s voice lingered, but he himself had already arrived at the gate of the Qiankun Tower. He swaggered off.

Xi Ping was about to go talk to Zhou Xi, but he saw that His Fourth Highness had already turned away and gone to ask after Yao Qi’s health. He was close at hand, but he seemed to have suddenly gone deaf. He didn’t hear Xi Ping calling him.

Xi Ping never put himself in a position to be snubbed. Sensing His Fourth Highness’s sudden estrangement, he didn’t ask for the reason but simply got up and left.

The Latent Cultivation Temple was so stingy—just three blue jades a month, and you could get them deducted over this or that.

“Some commodity.” Xi Ping didn’t take it to heart. “I have plenty.”

On average, the white jade proximal burned one blue jade every seven or eight days. When the spiritual energy ran dry, the blue jade would turn into a cloudy grey stone. The first time Xi Ping changed the spiritual stone himself, he had no idea what he was doing; he fiddled around for ages before getting it right.

After he finished changing the spiritual stone, Xi Ping let out a breath. He grabbed another one from the box and tossed it to the half-puppet.

Supposedly the dragon-taming chain was meant to be operated with your “consciousness.” Xi Ping hadn’t yet learned how to control this so-called “consciousness.” Each time he applied a drop of blood, he could get a reaction for about three or four days.

But apart from the first time he had accidentally rubbed blood on it, Xi Ping hadn’t used the dragon-taming chain again—he had always thought that “observation” and “control” went both ways. If you put a “chain” on someone else, would you still be free? The last thing he needed.

As long as the half-puppet didn’t bite him, he didn’t care where the little thing went or what he did… He only hoped that, like the old manuscript said, the little monster could grow up and learn to understand human speech quickly so he could work for him.

Before, when there had been a reaction from the dragon-taming chain, Xi Ping still hadn’t been able to feel the difference between the little monster being hungry or full after he ate the spiritual stone, never mind now, when the reaction had vanished. He didn’t know how much he ought to feed him. But even the brocade carp on the proximal changed color when its spiritual stone had nearly been burned up; the little monster was a living being, so naturally there would be signs when he was hungry. If he didn’t mention it, there was probably no need to feed him.

Xi Ping closed the box of spiritual stones and shoved it in the cabinet, then went to morning class… He had always had people to look after him. He wasn’t in the habit of locking cabinet doors after himself.

The upshot was that, that night, as soon as he opened the door to his room, Xi Ping felt himself step on something. He looked down and saw an empty wooden box… a familiar one.

Wait!

Xi Ping immediately had a bad feeling. He charged quickly into the room. He saw the half-puppet lying on the floor, his belly swollen, totally unconscious, radiating faint blue light.

Next to him, the cabinet door was wide open. The box full of spiritual stones was gone!