Test Ten Arrays

Qin Chuan’s previously calm expression shifted at these words, and his brows slowly furrowed. Ji Xin, seeing this, felt a chill run down his spine and thought things had gone awry. Just as he braced himself for the Moonlit Sword to descend and closed his eyes to await death, he suddenly felt the sword resting on his shoulder lighten and withdraw.

He opened his eyes in surprise to see Qin Chuan putting away his sword, and only then did he let out a long breath. In just those two breaths' time, his back had been drenched in cold sweat, and only now did he realize with a start how chillingly cold it felt.

Qin Chuan reached up to massage the creases from his brow and silently recited the Mysterious Breath Dust Technique, finally dispelling the unease in his heart. Perhaps it was the days of constant vigilance and the immense pressure Old Tang from Wu Chen Workshop put on him. When he’d discovered someone tailing him, he’d assumed it to be one of Wu Chen Workshop’s spies.

He offered a silent apology in his heart.

"Don’t keep calling me ‘senior.’ I’m only a few years older than you—just call me ‘Big Brother,’” he said.

Ji Xin nodded in agreement, but still spoke cautiously. “Big Brother, are you here to buy or sell elixirs?”

“I intend to refine elixirs, but I still need to gather some spirit herbs and a few common pills,” Qin Chuan replied, his tone steady and unruffled.

“Big Brother may not know, but right now it’s extremely difficult to get pills. I do know some channels, but the price is much higher than usual,” Ji Xin explained.

“But if you’re an alchemist, it’s a different story. As long as you pass the Alchemist’s Trial at the Pill Stone Cliff and obtain the Jade Mat Mountain Alchemist’s Token, you can buy many common pills at regular price.”

“So, I need to pass the test first?”

“Exactly.”

...

Once the two came to a stop, Qin Chuan handed Ji Xin twenty spirit stones. Ji Xin counted them, his eyes flashing as he took a few steps back, bowed in thanks, and turned to leave.

But after a few steps, he turned back. “If there’s anything else you don’t understand, Big Brother, you can find me at the Little Profound Gate.”

Qin Chuan naturally knew where the Little Profound Gate was.

They had wandered in circles for some time. Ji Xin had even left him a simple map with the important shops marked for easy navigation.

Though Ji Xin had initially quoted ten spirit stones, he probably feared that asking for too much would test Qin Chuan’s patience and cost him his life instead.

With these thoughts, Qin Chuan calmly stepped into the pavilion where the registration for the Alchemist’s Trial was held.

The rules here were simple: hand over fifty spirit stones to an old man, then focus his mind and imprint his information onto the jade slip provided and hand it back.

The old man didn’t even glance at the jade slip before tossing it into the nearby furnace.

There was a faint sound, and a wisp of blue smoke drifted from the red flames, merging into the crystalline slab at the center of the pavilion.

With the war so intense, even the Jade Mat Mountain’s trained cultivator army was running thin, so much so that they’d mustered temporary teams to quell the unrest. Pills, already scarce in ordinary times, were now nearly impossible to find.

Many outsiders, unable to buy elixirs, could only try their luck at the Alchemist’s Trial. Even some from Jade Mat Mountain, who usually had no interest in the test, flocked in during this period.

What was usually a quiet pavilion was now bustling with activity.

Glancing at the crystal slab, Qin Chuan saw the names flickering across its surface. Judging by the speed, it would be about fifteen minutes before his turn.

He walked to a small corner, took out a meditation mat, and sat down.

Those around him looked a bit surprised, as if they hadn’t expected anyone to carry a mat with them. They shot him a curious glance but soon lost interest.

Time passed quickly. Once Qin Chuan had adjusted his state to its peak, he saw his name appear on the crystal slab. He stowed away his mat, his expression calm as he headed toward the side door.

Outside, the world was shrouded in mist, a vast expanse of white. Qin Chuan moved forward with caution, but stepped out nonetheless.

To his surprise, the mist was only a thin veil, meant to obscure vision. After a few steps, he passed right through.

He found himself halfway up a stone cliff, with a chasm before him, the opposite side about twenty feet away. On both sides, the wind howled, lashing the hard blue-gray stone like the wails of a thousand ghosts.

“Do whatever you must—the only goal is to get across,” came an elderly voice suddenly from behind, making Qin Chuan jump. Cold sweat broke out on his back—someone had approached without him noticing.

He spun around to see a vague, shadowy figure. Sensing Qin Chuan’s sudden tension, the figure chuckled.

“Youngsters these days are so easily startled, haha.”

“Senior, you mean as long as I reach the other side by any means, I pass this trial?”

“Precisely. The Pill Stone Cliff’s Alchemist’s Trial has ten stages. Only those who pass the first three are acknowledged as Jade Mat Mountain alchemists.”

Seeing that Qin Chuan remained unhurried, the elder reminded him, “Well, have you come up with a way? The first stage lasts only about half a cup of tea. If you exceed the time limit, you’ll fail.”

“It’s only about twenty feet—should I try to jump across?” Qin Chuan mused, his expression odd.

“Oh? Many have tried that, but the wind is too fierce. I’ve yet to see anyone succeed that way.”

Qin Chuan gave a soft laugh, knowing this method was destined to fail. Since this was the Alchemist’s Trial, brute force alone would not suffice—at least not with his current cultivation.

The seeming lack of rules was itself the test; almost every clever method he could think of would be restricted in some way.

“Don’t worry, young friend. If you really can’t think of a way, you can try jumping, but position yourself carefully—don’t land too awkwardly.”

Qin Chuan asked, “If I fall, you’ll save me, won’t you?”

“Of course. In centuries, no one has ever died accidentally in the first stage.”

As the elder’s shadow spoke, Qin Chuan suddenly lunged at him.

The elder’s expression shifted, not expecting someone to see through the trick so quickly. Just as Qin Chuan’s right hand touched the phantom, the old man’s lips moved, his voice barely a whisper, “Not bad, young one…”

With a sweep of his sleeve, Qin Chuan gathered the white mist left behind by the shattered shadow, not letting a wisp escape the wind.

“As I suspected—Cloudstone!”

He had suspected as much from the moment the elder appeared, but had waited to probe further before acting. Cloudstone was a wondrous thing, said to form when ordinary rocks are carried away by the wind and do not touch the ground for a year.

Thus, Cloudstone was impervious to wind and took on a mist-like form—hence the name.

Having seen through the illusion, Qin Chuan hesitated no longer. He poured his spiritual energy into the stone, then cast it forth in a net-like fashion.

In an instant, the hazy white mist solidified, forming a bridge of white stone connecting both sides of the chasm.

Anyone watching would have gasped in astonishment—for though it looked simple, only one with absolute mastery of spiritual energy could do such a thing.

Without further delay, Qin Chuan stepped onto the cloud bridge and calmly crossed to the other side.

The first stage of the Alchemist’s Trial was mysterious yet simple, testing only two things: first, whether one could discern the shadow was made of Cloudstone; and second, the precision of one’s spiritual energy control.

Whether at the Hundred Peaks Dan Debate or the Jade Mat Mountain Alchemist’s Trial, this point was always tested—the importance of fine spiritual energy control could not be overstated.

The moment his right foot touched the far side, the scene before him changed abruptly.

“Hm! What’s this?”

With a single step, the chasm scene behind him shattered, and before him unfolded an even stranger sight.

Ahead lay a field of flowers and medicinal herbs, countless spirit plants stretching to the horizon.

On each side sat dozens of people, each accompanied by a strange beast. Some larger, like antlered deer or hawks, others no bigger than a palm-sized spider.

At that moment, a middle-aged man noticed Qin Chuan enter, saw it was his first time here, and strode over with a cold, impatient expression.

“Go claim a beast and wait quietly. There are too many taking the test these days, I won’t explain the rules one by one. Figure it out yourself.”

Before Qin Chuan could ask more, the man turned away and left.

Helpless, Qin Chuan glanced about and his eyes brightened when he saw a young man’s stall.

“Fellow cultivator, this is my first time here and I don’t understand the rules. What are these beasts for?” he asked.

“Twenty spirit stones…”

The young man, a blade of grass between his lips, lounged at ease in a grand chair, one leg crossed over the other, eyes half-closed in contentment.

Qin Chuan frowned, surprised to keep running into such unreliable types. He felt a flicker of irritation but did not show it. Twenty spirit stones wasn’t much to him, but he wasn’t about to pay blindly before understanding the situation.

Just then, a middle-aged man in gray Daoist robes approached, leading a lynx by a red cord. The beast hung its head, looking listless and weak.

“Young friend, I see it’s your first time here?”

“It is,” Qin Chuan replied, heartened to finally hear a normal person speak since reaching the second stage.

“Ah, that explains it,” the Daoist sighed. “I was the same a few days ago. It’s infuriating how these people neglect their duties and even exploit their positions!”

“These beasts are not supposed to cost spirit stones. But ever since the beast tide from the north, more people have taken the test, and they started profiteering from it. Disgraceful!”

“If you were from the Liu, Guan, or Zhang families, they wouldn’t dare!”

Clearly a man who could not stand the world’s filth, the Daoist pointed at the young man and scolded him.

“Are you done yet, you scruffy old Daoist?” the youth retorted, his laziness suddenly turning dark and threatening now that his misdeeds were exposed.

His real name was Zeng Wu, a collateral member of the Zeng family.

The Zengs, ranked just below the great Liu, Guan, Zhang, and Tang clans, wielded immense influence in Jade Mat City. As a Zeng scion, though lacking in cultivation, he’d still secured a comfortable post.

But the meager spirit stones earned here were nowhere near enough to fund his pleasures at the Jade Desk Pavilion.