The second stage was set in the valley behind Qingyun Terrace.
A bluestone archway stood at the valley entrance, with three ancient characters inscribed upon it: “Path of Inquiry.” The brushwork was powerful and vigorous; legend had it that they were written by the founding ancestor of the Xuantian Sect.
Beyond the archway was a winding stone path. Towering ancient trees lined both sides, their thick foliage blotting out the sun. Mist flowed slowly through the forest, obscuring the end of the path.
Elder Han stood beneath the archway with a solemn expression.
“The second stage: the Path of Inquiry. This path is not long, only three hundred zhang, but every step will interrogate your Dao heart. Illusions will abound, and inner demons will arise. Only those with a steadfast Dao heart can complete the journey.”
His gaze swept over the participants. “Those who fail to finish will be eliminated. Those who do will be graded based on their time and performance. The time limit is one stick of incense.”
Behind him, a thick stick of incense had already been lit, sending up curls of blue smoke.
“Begin.”
The participants filed in, disappearing into the mist.
Bai Qingxue was in the middle of the queue. The moment she stepped through the archway, an invisible force enveloped her. The surrounding sounds, light, and scents were all stripped away, leaving her as if she were the only person left in the world.
The scene suddenly shifted.
In a corner of the Bai family’s Snow Courtyard, a young girl huddled, hugging her knees and burying her face in her arms.
“Why... why won't it work?”
A sobbing, childish voice drifted over.
The little girl looked up, revealing a pale little face. Her features were delicate, but her lips were so pale they were nearly translucent. Her eyes were red and swollen, stained with fresh tears.
“Everyone... everyone says I'm a genius...”
She opened her palms, and spiritual light flickered at her fingertips as she tried to manifest something.
But the light only brightened for an instant before fluctuating violently and dissipating.
A distinct chill surged back from her fingertips, causing her to jerk her fingers back as her small body trembled.
“Cold... so cold...” She hugged herself, her voice turning from grievance to fear. “The 《Cold Jade Art》 Father gave me... the more I practice, the colder it gets... Ayue and the others all learned the ‘Water Condensation Art’ today...”
Bai Qingxue stood a few paces away, watching this scene unfold.
She knew this was an illusion, and she knew who this little girl was—the original owner of this body, at the age of six or seven.
Suddenly, the surroundings shifted again.
It was daytime, at the edge of a martial arts field where family disciples gathered. Several older teenagers were huddled together, and the one being subtly excluded in the center was the original owner, her small face tense and her lips pressed white.
“...Isn't she a genius? How come she never uses spiritual arts?”
“Shh, lower your voice. She has a Heavenly Spiritual Root!”
“Heehee...”
Those low but crystal-clear jeers were like fine needles, pricking the figure in the middle of the field.
The original owner straightened her back and held her chin high, acting as if she heard nothing.
But the hands hanging at her sides had nails dug deep into her palms, leaving several crescent-shaped white marks.
Bai Qingxue watched this with a calm expression.
She possessed these memories. When she had merged with the original owner’s memories, these fragmented images had flashed by without lingering.
Now, the illusion had reassembled them, magnified them, and thrust them before her.
The intent was obvious: to make her empathize, to make her drown in them, to let these emotions sweep her away.
Unfortunately.
She was not that little girl.
The scene shifted once more.
A quiet room, candlelight.
It was that same little girl huddled in the corner.
But this time, she had grown a bit, appearing to be about ten years old. The baby fat had faded from her face, and her features had begun to show the cold, elegant contours of her future self.
Her expression was also different now.
She was no longer crying or feeling aggrieved. Her lips were pressed into a line, and there were no tears in her eyes—only a cold, detached indifference that kept everyone at a distance.
She was learning how to “not care.”
This was the starting point where the original owner began to use a “cold and aloof” persona to disguise herself. Since she couldn't succeed in cultivation, she would use her posture to maintain her dignity. Since she was mocked, she would pretend she couldn't hear.
Since she couldn't get recognition, she would act as if she didn't need it.
A young girl, protecting herself in the most clumsy way possible.
In the illusion, tears slid silently down that pale, beautiful face.
Her lips moved without sound, but a clear thought, filled with resentment and sorrow, crashed directly into Bai Qingxue’s mind:
“Save... me...”
“I don't want... to be this cold anymore...”
“Help... me...”
Sorrow, despair, pleading.
Those tearful eyes were identical to her own.
Bai Qingxue looked at that face in the illusion, her heart without a ripple of emotion.
It wasn't that she was cold-blooded; it was simply because she knew that this was, after all, just a hollow illusion.
Even if it were real, it was a thing of the past—something that had already happened and could not be changed.
Indulging in past pain was meaningless, nothing but a waste of time.
Furthermore, her current body was the original owner’s body. Her living was the original owner living.
By obtaining the 《Mystic Frost Heavenly Heart Art》, she was solving the problems of this body.
The logic was simple; there was nothing to hesitate about.
Since that was the case, why linger?
She withdrew her gaze and stepped forward.
The little girl in the illusion was still weeping, still pleading.
But Bai Qingxue’s pace did not falter as she walked right past the face that looked exactly like her own.
One step. Two steps. Three steps.
A soft sound came from behind her, like the shattering of glass.
The illusion was collapsing. The weeping face, the cramped quiet room, the mocking teenagers—all of it turned into fragments and was swallowed by the mist.
Bai Qingxue turned her head back and continued forward.
The mist dissipated, and the end of the stone path was already in sight.
At the exit of the Path of Inquiry, Elder Han and several peak masters were waiting.
The first to emerge was a young man in black; he had taken less than half the time of a stick of incense.
The second, the third... people emerged one after another, some with normal expressions, others pale-faced.
Then, Bai Qingxue walked out.
Her steps were steady, her expression calm, and her breathing even.
Elder Han glanced down at the hourglass and took up his brush to record in the register: Number thirty-seven, Bai Qingxue, time less than half a stick of incense, stable Dao heart, pass.
A peak master nearby leaned over to take a look and whispered something. Elder Han nodded slightly but said nothing more.
Bai Qingxue walked to the passing area, stood still, and closed her eyes to regulate her breathing.
When Ye Qingyao emerged, her complexion was very poor.
She had been trapped in the illusion for a long time.
Those images had been too real.
Her mother’s sickly face, her father’s indifferent eyes, the loneliness of her brother who was burdened with high expectations but unable to cultivate, and those who had once stayed by her side, drifting away one by one.
Ye Qingyao had reached out desperately to grab them, but only caught the empty air.
In the end, only one person remained in the illusion.
That person was dressed in white, her back turned to her, walking further and further away.
Ye Qingyao opened her mouth to shout, but no sound came out.
She knew who it was.
She knew these were all things that had happened in the past, yet she simply couldn't walk out.
In the end, Ye Qingyao only managed to break free by repeating “those things are in the past” over and over in her heart.
As she walked out of the archway, Ye Qingyao’s legs were a bit weak, and her palms were covered in cold sweat.
She subconsciously looked up, searching for something in the crowd.
Then she saw Bai Qingxue.
That person was already standing in the corner of the passing area, dressed in white, her eyes closed, her expression serene.
Ye Qingyao was dazed for a moment.
Such a long road, so many illusions—and she had finished so quickly?
She took a deep breath and walked toward the passing area, standing beside Bai Qingxue without making a sound.
Bai Qingxue opened her eyes, glanced sideways to see who it was, then withdrew her gaze and continued to regulate her breathing with her eyes closed.
But for some reason, Ye Qingyao felt the bit of panic in her heart being gently suppressed.
She stood beside Bai Qingxue, speaking no more, just standing there quietly.
Bai Qingxue did not drive her away.
The two of them stood silently side by side in the corner.
The other participants came and went around them, some excited, some dejected; only this corner was as quiet as another world.
The incense burned out.
Elder Han announced the list of those who passed; over two hundred people had advanced to the third stage.
“That is all for today. The third stage, the Mirroring Heart Pond. Gather at Qingyun Terrace tomorrow at the hour of the Dragon.”
The participants dispersed in small groups.
Ye Qingyao hesitated for a moment and asked softly, “Sister Bai, which inn are you staying at?”
Bai Qingxue didn't answer.
Ye Qingyao wasn't upset either and gave a small smile. “I’m staying at the Yuelai Inn.”
Bai Qingxue still didn't respond.
Ye Qingyao continued to herself, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Sister Bai.”
She turned and walked a few steps, then looked back. Bai Qingxue was already walking in another direction, her white robes exceptionally striking in the twilight.
Ye Qingyao watched for a while before withdrawing her gaze and heading down the mountain.
Bai Qingxue returned to the inn, where Song Yun and Zhao Ping were waiting in the courtyard.
“Miss, did you pass?” Song Yun asked.
“Yes.”
Immediately after, Bai Qingxue closed her door and sat cross-legged on the couch.
The experience on the Path of Inquiry today confirmed one thing: her Dao heart seemed to be a “bug” in this world.
Because the reason she could walk through the Path of Inquiry so easily today was not, at its core, because her Dao heart was so steadfast or her willpower so strong, but because she was an outsider.
Those illusions excavated the memories and emotions of “Bai Qingxue,” not hers.
To her, watching those images was like watching a movie.
However, the little girl’s cry for help in the illusion earlier had reminded her of something.
Had the original owner’s consciousness truly dissipated completely?
Or was it just dormant, suppressed, hidden in some corner?
Bai Qingxue frowned, temporarily pushing the thought aside.
Now was not the time to think about that.
There was still the third stage.
She closed her eyes and circulated the 《Cold Jade Art》, slowly guiding spiritual power into her meridians. The stinging pain was still there, but she had grown accustomed to it.
Outside the window, the moonlight was cold, and all was silent.
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