Lines of text flashed before his eyes, eliciting a mix of surprise and intrigue. He raised an eyebrow.

  “The Platform of Transmission has selected new candidates?” he murmured.

  Unhurried, he continued arranging the “Mountains and Rivers” chessboard, methodically placing each piece. Only after completing the game and returning the pieces to their box did he lie down on the bed, pulling the luxurious silk quilt over himself and closing his eyes.

  ---

  Spiritual energy churned.

  At the center of the Platform of Transmission, three indistinct figures slowly materialized, their forms shrouded in mist, their appearances unclear.

  Clutching a small chick, a young woman looked around with curiosity. Everything here was unfamiliar and wondrous. One moment, she had been feeding chickens in her backyard; the next, she was in this strange place.

  Beside her stood two other figures. One, though blurred, carried a scholar’s bookcase on their back, suggesting they were a student. The other stood rigidly, unmoving, as if rooted to the spot since arriving in this mysterious realm.

  Suddenly, the young woman started, clutching her chick tightly. Above, clouds of ethereal mist swirled, coalescing into a figure seated at the center of an intricate formation, spiritual energy swirling around them, their robes flowing like those of an immortal.

  On the Platform of Transmission, he gazed down at the trio, his expression peculiar.

  “This batch of candidates has… unusual backgrounds,” he murmured.

  The illegitimate son of the South County Governor—now that was intriguing. As for the chicken-raising girl from Drunken Dragon City… He recalled the last time the Platform had summoned a butcher-turned-cultivator. Now a chicken farmer? Would the next be a stoic chef?

  The only one with a conventional background was the Confucian disciple. He was familiar with this one—a standout in the Wolong Ridge secret realm, the grandson of the National Advisor and the second disciple of the Confucian school.

  As spiritual energy roiled, he spoke slowly, “This is the Platform of Transmission, the Land of Immortality. Here, you may all partake in the dew of immortal fate. But heed this: within this sacred ground, do not reveal your true identities to one another, lest you provoke the wrath of the heavens and fall into the eternal abyss.”

  His formulaic opening caused a stir below. The Confucian disciple trembled with excitement. The chicken-raising girl, still clutching her chick, was gripped by fear. Immortal fate? A mere chicken farmer like her could receive such a thing? As for the third figure, he remained statue-still, as if in a daze.

  The Confucian disciple acted swiftly, dropping to his knees and gazing up reverently. The young woman, still shaken, mimicked his动作, kneeling as well. Her chick, tucked into her collar, poked out its blurry head, chirping noisily.

  He glanced at the chick, his mouth twitching. How did a chicken get in here?

  A dull thud followed as the third figure, belatedly, knelt as well.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “You are not the first to enter this Land of Immortality, nor will you be the last,” he continued, scanning the trio with satisfaction. “I guard this sacred ground, transmitting the dao to the heavens. Those who enter here are destined for fate.”

  This new generation was impressive.

  As his words fell, the platform’s spiritual energy surged, transforming into a celestial pavilion with cascading waterfalls, five-clawed dragons, and radiant phoenixes soaring above.

  The Confucian disciple performed a formal bow, forehead touching the ground, calmly accepting the moment. Having witnessed the wonders of the Wolong Ridge secret realm, he already believed in immortals. “I thank the exalted immortal for granting this fate,” he said reverently.

  The young woman copied his bow, but as her forehead touched the ground, her chick leapt from her collar. Panicked, she quickly scooped it back up. The third figure, meanwhile, knelt woodenly, silent and unmoving.

  He nodded slightly, saying nothing, and with a wave of his sleeve, spiritual energy surged like a waterfall, rushing toward the three.

  The Confucian disciple felt a jolt in his mind, as if cleansed by a divine baptism, his thoughts crystal clear. Two new strands of spiritual energy appeared in his qi core. He knew how grueling it was to refine even a single strand—back in the Wolong Ridge secret realm, he had fought desperately for just one. Yet here, with a mere wave of the immortal’s sleeve, he gained two. His reverence deepened. “I am eternally grateful to the immortal for this gift,” he said.

  He nodded again, satisfied. The Confucian disciple had already obtained the Righteous Spirit Technique in Wolong Ridge, so he granted him only the two strands of spiritual energy to aid his cultivation.

  His gaze shifted to the young woman. She clutched her chick, eyeing him with trepidation. Mortals often feared the unknown, and he could sense she was an ordinary person, untrained in martial arts.

  “Chicken-raising girl?” he murmured, a slight smile forming.

  With a thought, twenty-seven runes materialized around him—Qian, Dui, Li, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Gen, Kun—each pulsing with unique meaning. His eyes gleamed as he crafted a technique from scratch, not entirely from nothing but adapted from the Refinement Technique.

  The young woman had no martial training, nor could she channel the righteous aura of a Confucian scholar. So, he decided to build her technique around her chickens.

  The runes trembled, dazzling with multicolored light. The Confucian disciple below watched in awe, while the young woman shivered, sensing the immortal’s gaze fixated on her chick. The third figure remained kneeling, motionless.

  After a time, the technique was complete, refined in the Ten Thousand Methods Furnace.

  “Deduction complete. Technique Nine Phoenix Transformation created. Rank: ?”

  He blinked. A question mark for a rank? That was… spirited.

  With a flick of his finger, the Nine Phoenix Transformation became a red orb of light, shooting into the young woman’s forehead.

  Her transmission complete, he waved his sleeve again. The Confucian disciple, the young woman, and her chick vanished like a gust of wind.

  The third figure remained, kneeling silently, as if in a trance.

  “The illegitimate son of the South County Governor…” he mused. He recalled the South County Governor, a scion of the Tang clan, a powerful figure among the rebel lords, second only to the Warlord of Xi County and stronger than the prince of North County.

  The kneeling figure pressed himself to the ground, his posture radiating respect tinged with fear and inferiority.

  He observed him calmly. The young man hadn’t dared meet his gaze, but beneath his quiet exterior, a fire burned within.

  “What immortal fate do you seek?” he asked, his voice ethereal.

  For the first time, the young man spoke. “I seek a fate that lets me endure pain without faltering, so I can protect my mother and my sister with my body.”

  He fell silent. A fate to endure pain? It was the first time he’d heard such a request. As an illegitimate son, the young man likely faced scorn and abuse, his life marked by hardship.

  He didn’t refuse. With a thought, runes reappeared, swirling around him. The young man, prostrate below, trembled faintly.

  After a time, a blood-red orb formed in his hand. With a flick, it sank into the young man’s forehead.

  “Go,” he said softly. “Strength is for protecting those you cherish. Hold fast to your heart and never lose your purpose.”

  A fierce wind swept through the Platform of Transmission. The young man looked up, struggling to see through the haze, but it felt as though a giant hand crushed everything before him.