Having said this, she bent down and placed the token back onto the floor of the city wall, then gripped the ice-blue longsword and leaped down from the wall. Her green figure plunged into the sky where black clouds surged, and her dual ice and wind spiritual energy erupted from the tip of her sword like a teal-white rainbow, slashing straight down toward the nearest mass of demonic energy.
The illusion shattered the moment she came into contact with the demonic energy.
A vast expanse of white light flooded over her once more. The city wall, demon clouds, blood, fire, and cries of agony were all crumpled and swept away as if by an invisible hand. She felt herself plummeting suddenly before her back pressed against the cold, hard stone tiles of the square.
She opened her eyes.
Above her head fluttered Tiance Palace's flag with its silver patterns on a black background, and the bright midday sun shone down upon her face.
Around her, people were waking up one after another. Some were drenched in cold sweat, some had bloodshot eyes, and others were panting heavily as if they had just been dragged out of water.
The second trial, “Entering the Realm,” tested the foundation of one's Dao Heart. Those who entered the illusion faced different questions; some were tested on family affection, some on temperament, and others on fear. She, however, had been tested on responsibility.
Lin Zhiyue slowly sat up, the cold sensation of the token still lingering in her palm. She looked down at her hands. The cool spiritual energy inside her body flowed quietly without any abnormality.
On the viewing stands, several elders were whispering to one another, their gazes sweeping over the newly awakened disciples. She noticed the old man from Danxia Valley looking at her with a thoughtful, scrutinizing gaze.
Meanwhile, the black-robed disciples of Tiance Palace remained expressionless. However, when she sat up, one of them nodded slightly, a movement so subtle it seemed like an illusion.
By evening, the list of candidates for the third trial, “Heart's Inquiry,” was posted. The original group of over two hundred had dwindled to just over sixty. Lin Zhiyue's name was at the very top, with “Second Trial: Grade A-Plus” marked next to it.
She stood in front of the bulletin board for a moment before turning to walk back to her inn. Passing by the old book stall on her way, she casually bought two volumes of historical anecdotes about Tiance Palace and slipped them into her storage earring.
Returning to her room, she lit a lamp and flipped open the first page. The book began with only a single sentence:
“Tiance Palace was founded ten thousand years ago. It does not meddle in worldly affairs, nor does it strive for supremacy; its sole mission is to protect the realm.”
Lin Zhiyue closed the book and leaned back against her chair, recalling the sensation of the token with silver patterns on a black background landing at her feet in the illusion.
A dual ice and wind spiritual root, combined with a Dao Heart that cared for the world—she wondered if these qualities together were worth a second glance from Tiance Palace.
She slipped the book back into her earring and blew out the oil lamp.
Tomorrow would be the third trial.
Heart's Inquiry.
The third trial was held at dusk the following day.
Before sunset, the sixty-odd disciples who had passed the first two trials were led into a stone hall located in the deepest depths of Juxian City.
The hall doors were as heavy as a small mountain, emitting a low, heavy grinding sound as they were pushed open. The interior was completely empty, save for concentric circular carvings on the floor that rippled outward from the center like some ancient formation. Dozens of fist-sized night-glowing pearls were embedded in the walls, their dim, yellow light casting long, faint shadows of everyone present.
When Lin Zhiyue stepped through the hall doors, a subtle vibration rippled through the bluestone beneath her feet, as if the entire stone hall were breathing.
The six elders sat separately inside stone alcoves recessed into the walls, their eyes closed in silence. The elder from the Qingling Sect stepped into the center of the formation and said in a deep voice: “The third trial: Heart's Inquiry. All are susceptible to the temptations of the seven emotions and six desires. Once you sit within the formation, your consciousness will sink into it. What you see and feel will be the deepest desire of your heart. Overcome it, and you pass; succumb to it, and you are eliminated.”
The sixty-odd disciples walked into the concentric circle formation one after another, each choosing a spot to sit cross-legged. Lin Zhiyue sat in the circle closest to the center, directly facing a bronze mirror embedded in the stone wall. The surface of the mirror was as blurry as if covered in dust, reflecting no image.
The mist inside the bronze mirror stirred.
Before she could even close her eyes, the greyish-white mist surged out from the mirror's surface. Like a rising tide, it washed over her ankles, knees, waist, and abdomen, before finally submerging the top of her head.
She felt as if her entire body had been plunged into warm water. Her surroundings fell instantly silent, to the point where she could not even hear her own breathing.
When she opened her eyes again, she was sitting in a familiar room.
Four white walls surrounded her. On the desk sat a laptop with its screen lit up, next to a graphics tablet and a stylus. On the screen was a half-finished illustration she had been drawing—a range of dark blue mountains shrouded in translucent mist, with the details yet to be completed.
Sunlight from outside filtered through the blinds, casting long, thin lines of light and shadow across the keyboard.
It was her dormitory. The graduate student dorm where she had lived for three years in her past life. Even the half-finished, cold cup of coffee on the desk was exactly the same.
Lin Zhiyue froze for a moment, her eyes sweeping across the dorm room. The textbooks on the bookshelf, the grey cardigan draped over the chair, the laboratory schedule taped to the edge of the drawer, the canvas bag in the corner that she had used for four years—every single thing was something she had looked at thousands of times in her past life, so familiar that it made her heart ache.
She stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open. Outside was the campus's tree-lined path, where the sycamore leaves had half-turned yellow. Students in twos and threes rode their bicycles through the shadows of the trees. In the distance, people were playing soccer on the field, and the faint sound of a whistle drifted over.
The air carried the typical crisp, dry scent of autumn, mingled with the smell of fallen leaves and soil.
Then, the dormitory door was pushed open.
A middle-aged man in a grey suit walked in, holding a folder. He smiled and said to her: “Miss Lin, our company really thinks highly of you. As long as you agree, the position of lead artist, the salary, and the stock options are all highly negotiable. You are the most talented young person I have ever interviewed.”
Lin Zhiyue stared at his face—it was the director of that game company, the one who had specifically flown to her school to interview her in person.
The man enthusiastically flipped through the document, pointing at the clauses: “If you join us, you'll be part of the core team. You can pick any project you want, and you won't have to start from the bottom. We will give you the utmost creative freedom.”
She said nothing, taking half a step back to lean against the windowsill.
Then the door was pushed open again, and a second person walked in.
Her laboratory advisor, wearing the silver-rimmed glasses she had seen for three years, placed an offer letter on the desk: “Xiaoyue, the department has approved your staying at the university as an assistant professor. You'll be able to advise graduate students starting next year. You're the best student I've ever taught. Don't go suffer in some corporate office; the university suits you better.”
Right after him, a third person entered—an HR representative from a major tech giant, sporting a sharp haircut and high heels, speaking at a rapid pace: “We can negotiate the salary further. I've communicated your conditions to the VP, and they can basically all be met. We can even throw in two more percentage points of stock options, as long as you're willing to join us.”
A fourth person, a fifth, and a sixth. The job offers from various companies piled higher and higher on the desk, each one printed with enticing figures and positions.
The sunlight outside the window shifted from afternoon to dusk, and then to night. The documents on the desk piled into a small mountain. All the choices she hadn't had the time to make in her past life were now laid out before her, each one shining with a dazzling light.
Finally, a seventh person walked in. It was another company she had once favored, presenting a letter of intent with utmost sincerity. Eight documents were lined up on the desk: a university faculty position, a top tech giant, a game company, a foreign enterprise, a startup team, a freelance illustration studio... Every single path that had once kept her tossing and turning in her past life, leaving her hesitant and undecided, was laid out before her all at once by the illusion.
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