Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fortune

“In this way, one can pass easily.” Chu Tiange looked at the puppets, now devoid of spiritual energy, and smiled faintly.

In just a single breath, the three puppets—each with strength on par with Chu Tiange—lost all ability to move, leaving the spectators outside dumbfounded.

Xie Miaomiao’s bright eyes sparkled as she watched, her thoughts a mystery.

“Who is that person?”

Murmurs of discussion rose to the heavens. The elders from the Immortal Sects wore expressions of surprise.

“Chu Tiange?” Lady Xuanqing’s eyes flashed with a hint of mockery. “For the peak master and his disciple to participate in the trial—how shameless.”

“So it’s Chu Tiange, the newly-appointed elder of the Celestial Ascension Sect?” The female elder from the Mirror Flower Pavilion, one of the Nine Great Immortal Sects, nodded. “That would explain it.”

Among the Three Teachings and Nine Sects, the main peak masters had always been supreme cultivators of the Forgetting Sorrow Realm, wielding absolute authority over their peaks. Figures of such stature were naturally known to the other sects—after all, next month’s journal headline would be: “Why did Xiao Yicai willingly hand the title of Maiden Peak Master to Chu Tiange? What secret lies behind this transfer?”

“It’s the main peak master—any cultivator of the Forgetting Sorrow Realm could instantly defeat those puppets.” Many voices spoke out.

Master Xuantian, himself a cultivator of the Forgetting Sorrow Realm, could not possibly possess puppets with strength equal to his own—if he could, his power would be unrivaled beneath the Divine Realm.

Yet Master Xuantian’s eyes narrowed sharply.

These were not true puppets at all!

The Pagoda was an ancient immortal artifact, a sacred ground for disciples of the Feathered Transformation Sect. Any cultivator who entered would face an illusory screen, conjuring enemies of similar strength. But among these illusions, one genuine puppet was hidden.

Its position shifted among the three illusory bodies. To pass this trial, one had to destroy the real puppet in the briefest moment, or else, as time went on, the illusions would multiply.

Overcoming all with brute force was one method; the second was the power of the soul.

To identify the true puppet under the pressure of three equal auras and destroy it instantly—what precision of observation and strength! What depth of soul force!

Even Master Xuantian could not have dispatched these foes so easily.

This man’s strength—he feared it surpassed his own!

Within the sealed space, Chu Tiange was oblivious to the happenings outside.

The three puppets on the ground, after a swirl of star-like lights faded away, left only one behind.

“The embodiment of soul force is divine sense. It cannot be seen or touched; the higher one’s cultivation, the more profound and elusive it becomes. It can manipulate the energy of heaven and earth, even summon tribulation lightning to destroy all things.

“The stronger the divine sense, the greater the hope of victory against opponents of the same realm. It grants the clarity to perceive all, to see through illusion. This round tests divine sense. It seems that divine sense is of utmost importance in the Azure Mystery Realm,” Chu Tiange murmured.

Divine sense was the most crucial means of both attack and self-preservation.

With it, one could sense the fluctuations of spiritual energy, detect falsehoods, perceive danger; feel the slightest stirrings of wind and grass, evade ambushes, or avoid crises before they occurred.

This first trial would eliminate many disciples from lesser sects and clans, but for the Three Teachings and Nine Sects, the rate would not be high.

After all, their disciples were already the best of the best, tempered and tested; rarely would anyone as easily bullied as Chu Tiange find their way here.

The second trial tested the heart.

In this new space, a road appeared—the path to the second trial, the Forest of Illusions.

Chu Tiange stepped forward, his footfall making a gentle sound, as if treading on water—soft and weightless.

He walked into a sea of forest, the scenery shifting: mountains, rivers, streams replaced monotony.

This was the calm before the storm.

Here, Chu Tiange saw Lu Shiqi, as well as friends who had once fought by his side.

Li Qingxuan of the Supreme Teaching. Dongfang Ningmeng of the Heartless Sect. Fang Qian of the Valley of Ten Thousand Flowers. The renowned, dashing swordsman, Cao Xuanqing.

There were many more familiar names—companions with whom he had drunk, conversed, helped one another, survived adversity.

One by one, these old friends stood there, smiling and waving.

“Tiange, look—we are still here, amidst the world’s fleeting beauty.”

“It’s been a long time.” Chu Tiange nodded gently, a joyful smile blooming on his lips.

He had never imagined that his old companions would one day stand before him again.

Chu Tiange would not forget how, in those days, each faced death without fear—surrounded by tens of thousands of eerie abominations, yet never faltering, all to protect the last pure land of the mortal world.

The crowd spoke—some with joy, some with sorrow, some with tears.

“Tiange, how long do you think you can endure?” someone suddenly asked. The others fell silent, eyes turning to him.

Those gazes were complex; some held expectation, some compassion.

Thud!

Suddenly, a streak of crimson appeared at a friend’s throat. In the next instant, a head fell to the ground, blood gushing.

After peace, the storm must come!

The past repeated itself.

Heaven and earth collapsed, darkness surged, fierce winds howled, thunder rumbled, endless horrors swept forth.

Terrifying pressure crushed the sky, enveloping all beneath. All things shattered, annihilated.

Only a band of heroes stood against the tide, striving to hold back disaster, to support the crumbling world.

They gazed upward, as if through layers of black fog they could glimpse the stars beyond—there, it seemed, a world-ending calamity was taking shape.

In Chu Tiange’s vision, two indistinct figures appeared—a man and a woman, both wreathed in flames, arms outstretched, striving to ascend and resist the apocalyptic assault.

Under the endless, suffocating pressure, their bodies twisted, then burst apart in a blaze, raining blood upon the earth.

The thunderous explosion shook the entire Azure Mystery Continent. Flames raged, devouring all. More figures faded into oblivion; in the fleeting panorama of memory, turning back for one last glance at the past, only to find its splendor gone forever.

The sea of flowers before the Watermoon Gate had long since withered; the stargazing terrace in the Astral Pavilion collapsed ages ago; the springtime scenes at Misty Rain Pavilion became dust in the endless years.

For Chu Tiange, reliving these scenes was exquisite torment.

There, the living had forever lost their right to survive.

That catastrophe had only one end—annihilation.

Yet those people still did what they could.

With their lives, they tried to end the calamity. Like moths to a flame, heedless of success or failure, they chose to die for the cause.

Chu Tiange fell silent for a long time, then slowly closed his eyes.

That world held nothing left worth cherishing—except his memories of them.

Tears of blood slid down his cheeks, soaking his robes. The pain was so piercing it stole his breath.

After a long while, Chu Tiange opened his eyes—now filled only with steely resolve.

“We walk through the darkness, seeking a pure cleansing for this world—so heaven and earth remain untainted. Let us summon forth a righteous wind once more.”

Chu Tiange lifted his head.

Before him, the endless tide of darkness surged, swallowing the sky.

Terrifying evils, sensing the breath of the living, howled in madness.

But in Chu Tiange’s eyes, an unprecedented brilliance flared—like a divine sword, piercing the gloom, rending the shadows.

He took a deep breath; the light in his eyes intensified, almost tangible. He gripped a divine sword, standing tall, his gaze sharp as lightning.

In an instant, the sword sang, radiating dazzling golden light. A vast, keen aura swept forth, slashing at the darkness. With a sudden burst, it filled the entire region.

Under that strike, the black tide could not withstand the devastation; it was cleaved open, a massive chasm spreading outward, forming a great vortex.

The sword’s energy surged, expanding like a flood breaching its banks, overwhelming and unstoppable, tearing the hideous abominations into fragments—erasing them utterly.

Buzz—

From the horizon, another power descended.

Chu Tiange’s head snapped up, his pupils contracting.

A colossal shadow appeared—nine-headed, six-armed, trailing a long tail, wreathed in black flames.

A suffocating pressure fell, carrying unfathomable might.

Boom!

Again, a divine blade slashed at the heavens.

Radiant divine light met surging black fire.

When the two forces collided, wind and cloud shifted, and all light vanished from the world.

“This second trial tests one’s deepest fears,” Chu Tiange murmured, gripping his sword.

And then—another peerless slash!

The sword’s energy swept forth, unstoppable, rending the black tide wherever it passed, grinding everything to dust, ashes scattered to the wind.

Heaven and earth returned to clarity. Chu Tiange was back in the empty chamber—no bamboo grove, no old friends.

“Those tragic scenes can no longer disturb my heart. They still walk this world; the past is yet undone. Thus, these are not my fears, but my resolve. How could I allow such horrors to repeat?”

He muttered softly, stepping into a new passage.

Here, darkness reigned—so black one could not see their own hand before their face.

The third trial tested luck.

Luck was a mysterious thing. Some choked on plain water, others drank freely; some stumbled at every step, others, though destitute, always escaped disaster and misfortune.

It was fate, opportunity, heaven’s gift—unrelated to personal talent.

This trial tested one’s luck and fortune.

This suggested that, within the Azure Mystery Realm, luck was paramount.

Chu Tiange sat cross-legged, closing his eyes to sense his surroundings—only cold darkness. Nothing else could be perceived.

“This third trial, besides luck, also tests one’s control over their heart,” Chu Tiange thought.

The real test had not yet come. Just as one must endure before fortune arrives, so too must one wait for the right moment to act.

After all, the world held too many tales of the mantis stalking the cicada, only to be caught by the oriole. In the Azure Mystery Realm, luck alone was not enough—patience was equally essential.

Anyone who acted before the darkness receded was eliminated. All who reached the third trial were outstanding in strength and temperament, yet many would still be ruthlessly cast out.

No one knew how long passed before Chu Tiange opened his eyes. Each step he took dispelled the darkness around him, revealing a new world.

Mountains rose high, lush with green trees and thriving herbs. Rare beasts prowled the land.

Chu Tiange surveyed the scene, frowning as he noticed a head poke from the clear river.

“Tell me, do you want the golden axe, the silver axe, or the wooden axe?”

It was a head glowing green, and as the body surfaced, a hideous face emerged.

Wrinkled skin, lips blackish purple, teeth sharp as knives, rough, scaled skin, a scar like a fish scale at the corner of the eye—the body writhing slightly in the water.

This was no illusion but a spirit born from the Pagoda’s third level, capable of countless transformations, testing all comers.

The river spirit lifted three mud axes, their true material hidden beneath heavy clay.

“I want none of them,” Chu Tiange shook his head.

“Why not? Don’t you want to pass? If you pick the silver axe, you’ll clear the test,” the river spirit asked, puzzled.

“The first is not always the best,” Chu Tiange replied. “I have no interest in axes.”

“Then what do you want?” the river spirit pressed.

“I want only a single pearl,” Chu Tiange said, staring at the spirit’s lower body. “Will you give it to me, or must I take it myself?”

In his gaze, a faint glow shone beneath the river spirit—even if she sat atop it, trying to hide it, it could not be concealed.

“How did you know?” the river spirit exclaimed in shock.

“Because you keep squirming. You’re a river spirit—you couldn’t have hemorrhoids, so your discomfort must come from something pressing against you. The water’s so clear, to hide anything would require it be small—a pearl is most fitting,” Chu Tiange remarked, laughing.

“If I’m not mistaken, that pearl is the key to breaking this trial. If I obtain it, everyone who passed the second test will also pass, and the third test will vanish.”

It was said that those with great fortune always attracted followers. These followers, once they met such a fortunate one, would see their cultivation soar and become worthy companions.

At the same time, those companions would help the fortunate one overcome hardships.

This cycle was the essence of “fortune.”

Many who lacked luck would miss their chance to enter the Azure Mystery Realm.

But now, as Chu Tiange was the first to solve this trial’s riddle, he had changed the fate of those who came after.