77 – Something Delicious

The remaining three days of the examination passed quickly and smoothly, bringing the first phase of the tournament to a close. Huiran sat reclined at the long dining table where the rest of the examiners had gathered. With the testing and grading finally finished, the examiners were treated to a feast within the City Lord’s mansion.

“Is it just me, or was grading the participants more exhausting than expected?” Huiran asked.

“It was,” one examiner nodded. “Mostly because we were far more active participants in the test itself.”

“It does feel that way,” another added. “We had to constantly ensure fairness during the array battles instead of simply preparing the questions once and being done with it.”

The others agreed, and the discussion continued as servants streamed in with food and drink. Conversation frequently returned to the best candidates and the overall readiness of the participants for such an irregular examination format.

On the first topic, the names Bai Chengbei and Qin Weiming kept surfacing. The heir of the North had performed extremely well in the array battles and was the only one to clear the final stage on his own merits. Qin Weiming, the one with severed meridians, had also proven impressive, excelling across all four subjects slightly better than Chengbei overall. The girl who had reached the final stage alongside Weiming was likewise remarkable. Despite her humble origins, she had managed to place in the top ten across every subject. Her name and presence, however, remained oddly elusive. Her appearance and cultivation level were so unremarkable that most would have overlooked her entirely if not for her results.

The second topic, the readiness of the participants, proved more practical and far more disappointing. More than sixty percent of all participants had been eliminated during the second round of array battles, and only four teams had managed to defeat an examiner’s army. This tempered the examiners’ expectations considerably. Several even debated whether it might have been better to delay the tournament after all, giving the participants more time to refine their rosters and study strategy. Still, the test had clearly demonstrated the value of practical formation skill over purely theoretical, on paper answers.

“What’s he doing?” Examiner Míng, the fattest of the group, asked, gesturing toward Xuan Danxing with his chin.

All attention turned to the tall figure standing before a table covered in strange containers and contraptions. Maids arrived carrying boxes of beans and sugar along with jugs of water. The Xuan began by placing the beans into a separate metal container, then with a touch of a button, set them to roasting while stirring continuously. The sound of roasting beans and the sharp scent of freshly cut grass briefly disrupted the feast, though a little Qi control was enough to isolate the smell. THe then projected additional utensils, inspecting each one meticulously while the roasting continued.

“Looks like some kind of tea ceremony,” another examiner noted, still watching intently. Ever since the practical examination format, the examiners had begun paying closer attention to whatever novel ideas the Xuan produced. After all, they are merchants first by trade.

Once the roasting finished, the beans were transferred to another container to rest. Water was set to boil in a separate vessel. Measured portions of the cooled beans were then fed into one of his strange devices, grinding the beans into fine powder. The powder was placed into a bowl-like spoon and compressed further with what looked like a small stamp before being fitted to the container of boiling water.

Finally, with the projection of a large glass and the twist of a valve, a dark brown liquid began pouring out.

“So it is some kind of tea,” the examiners murmured, lifting the thin barrier that had been isolating the scent. The smell of freshly cut grass was gone, replaced by something thicker and richer, reminiscent of baked bread.

Then the Xuan lifted an entire small box of sugar.

Every eye locked onto him. Everyone already knew what was coming.

He’s going to put the entire thing

Then lo and behold, He dumped the entire contents into the glass, projected a spoon, and stirred. Only then did he notice the room staring at him.

“What are you looking at?”

The examiners exchanged glances. Many were curious; most remained indifferent. After all, he had used only mundane ingredients. Tasting it once might be harmless enough. Before anyone else could decide, however, one of them had already left his seat.

“These are… coffee cherry seeds?” Examiner Míng asked, already standing in front of him.

“Oh, you know about this?” Danxing replied.

“No. We usually only use the fruit to make tea. May I have a taste?”

“Sure.” Danxing immediately conjured a ceramic cup, adjusted the portion of powder, and prepared another serving.

Míng accepted the cup in his pudgy hands. He examined the liquid, inhaled the aroma, then drank it in the manner of tea. The rest of the table leaned forward. His eyes widened.

“It’s…”

The others leaned in even further.

“It’s…” Míng repeated, as though searching for the right words. Some at the table looked ready to shout at him to just spit it out.

“It’s fine,” he finally concluded, looking back at the cup with mild surprise. The taste was far more ordinary than he had expected.

“What? Were you expecting some groundbreaking discovery?” Danxing asked.

“Well… no,” Míng lied. Technically, he had.

“It’s just a beverage that helps people stay awake a little longer. Good when driving long distances or night shifts. Other than that, it’s nothing special.” Danxing shrugged. “No idea if it will have any effect on cultivators. I just found the beans in one of your stores and wanted a familiar taste.”

“I see. At most we could sell this to mortals,” Míng concluded. With that, the rest of the examiners lost interest. Something that only worked for mortals held little value. A spiritual herb equivalent would be necessary for cultivators.

“I need these herbs in these amounts, then this one, and this one,” Examiner Míng was already calling a servant to fetch the necessary spiritual herbs. The other examiners immediately followed suit. Being disappointed by the taste results was one thing, being left behind was another.

“Quite the spirited folk,” I commented as I finally joined the now mostly vacant table, where only Huiran and Wendao remained.

“You didn’t just do that to clear everyone off the table, did you?” Wendao asked.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” I looked at him incredulously.

Huiran leaned in. “It’s a popular method in certain novels, the main character distracts the entire room with a groundbreaking discovery.”

“Huh. Never thought Wendao had a romantic side.” Both of us turned toward him. He looked away.

“It’s not a romance book,” he muttered in defense.

“Sure. Whatever,” we replied in unison. I began picking up food and eating while we watched the other examiners busying themselves.

“Come to think of it,” I said after swallowing a mouthful of noodles, “the City Lord promised us some kind of special exception, correct? What can we reasonably ask for? What does this exception actually entail?”

“There are two previous accounts of it,” Huiran answered. “One person requested materials for a Golden Core breakthrough. Another asked for a spiritual artifact commission from the Forgemaster Yǐnjìn (隱燼|Hidden Ember). Just like their title, nobody knows if master Yinjin is male or female, their identity completely secret. Unlike our Elder Baiduan, who can produce many artifacts, Master Yinjin creates only one every decade… but the quality is unmatched.”

I nodded as I continued eating. “Would something related to the Dao Heart be available, then?”

“Hmmm.” Huiran thought for a moment. “Those are usually much rarer, but you can certainly ask. If it isn’t available, you can simply request something else.”

“What will the two of you ask for?” I probed, hoping for a hint of what might be valuable.

Huiran grinned. “You’ll know when the time comes, brother.”

I squinted at him suspiciously, then turned to Wendao.

“Huiran already said what I intend to ask,” Wendao replied.

“An artifact sword from Master Yinjin?” He nodded in confirmation.

“What if that isn’t an option?”

“I’m still considering alternatives. What about you?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure yet. After reading that array formation book, the subject has really caught my interest. For example…”

I projected an array I had been working on over the past three days into my hand. It consisted of a circular core with three extensions, each ending in a smaller circle. When I activated it, jet-like propulsion fired from the right side of the three outer circles, causing the entire structure to spin rapidly around the core. An over glorified, jet powered fidget spinner.

I grinned as I showed it to them. Wendao gave it only a single glance. Huiran at least squinted and made a polite show of interest. Both were clearly unimpressed.

CRACK!

“There it goes,” I noted as the core formation fractured and the entire array crumbled. I still hadn’t figured out how to make it more durable without sacrificing speed.

“I just hope it doesn’t cost as much Qi every time I remake the thing.” I projected another spinner. It required roughly the equivalent of three railgun shots’ worth of Qi, three shots too many for something this small.

“It costs that much Qi each time? Why don’t you store it as an array imprint?” Huiran asked, looking genuinely incredulous.

“What? What the fuck is an array imprint?”

“When a formation master finishes creating an array, they can store its imprint within their sea of consciousness. It’s far better than relying on fragile external mediums. You only need Qi to rematerialize and activate it afterward, no Qi wasted on reconstructing the entire thing from scratch. Wait… you didn’t know that?” Huiran explained, then stared at me.

I rose from the table, walked a short distance away, and collapsed onto the floor. Fists and feet clenched as I curled upward in pure frustration.

“No one told me anything.”

—

That was quite fun. Weiming concluded as he walked toward the dining hall. After the first day, he had continued watching the other participants’ array battles, replaying both their matches and his own in his mind while correcting the formations and strategies he had used. Bai Chengbei’s performance had been particularly spectacular. Weiming had little doubt that Chengbei would claim first place in the array examination.

‘Don’t get too caught up in the entertainment, boy. Have you not noticed the hidden genius of this test format?’ his master lectured from within the artifact ring.

‘Yes, Master. The formations and regular units represent ordinary cultivators, while the larger units represent spiritual and demonic beasts, generally far stronger than average cultivators, allowing them to break formations and overwhelm more numerous enemies,’ Weiming answered.

‘Hmph. You are not completely hopeless after all.’

‘How is the repair of my meridians progressing? You still owe me for this.’

‘I am working on it. Focus on your performance so we can obtain the necessary materials. Then you can begin inheriting my arts.’

Weiming nodded. He still harbored suspicions and reservations about his so-called master, especially after the incident that had drained his cultivation. Yet without him, Weiming would never have survived activating the ancient array. They had formalized the master-disciple relationship, and that was that. What’s left is what come after.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the girl who had fought alongside him in the final stage of the array battle. She was unremarkable in both appearance and cultivation, yet he found himself unable to fully push her from his mind.

‘Tsk tsk tsk. Let me give you some advice, young man. Do not allow yourself to be distracted by women. They will lead you astray,’ his master began in a sagely tone. ‘This one in particular is unremarkable, not particularly pretty, and her intelligence is only average. Barely qualified to stand beside my heir.’

‘Is it just me, or do you have some personal misgivings about her?’

‘Whatever would make you think that?’ his master snapped back.

‘Just a hunch.’

Weiming reached the dining hall and was immediately met with a wave of noise from the various examiners occupied with their own experiments.

“No one told me anything…” came a rueful lament that drew his attention. Young Master Xuan was curled upward on the floor in a thoroughly undignified manner.

‘Bah! How unsightly. It seems his father never taught him proper manners,’ his master remarked sharply, a dangerous comment to make about one of the most dangerous young masters currently in the city.

Weiming tried to ignore the noise and made his way to an empty table. A maid quickly approached and took his order.

“Well, you started cultivating at an already advanced age. Could it be that Elder Xuan simply wanted to see how knowledgeable you already were?”

“Ran, Huiran, I am the victim here. You don’t have to cope on my behalf,” the Xuan replied. He was now lying flat on his stomach, carefully constructing another array on the floor.

Even Weiming could not look away. He was curious to see what kind of formation the Xuan would produce. To his surprise, he could not identify it at all. , but because of how incredibly small the array was. The Xuan had even projected multiple layers of magnifying lenses to work on it.

‘Hoh. Not bad. I suppose Xuechen would not have adopted him if he lacked talent,’ his master commented, a clear shift from his earlier mockery.

Weiming’s attention, however, was focused elsewhere. ‘What do you mean, Master?’

‘Most people judge an array’s power or complexity by its size. While that is true to a degree, the true measure of mastery lies in miniaturization. Creating an array as small as possible while preserving both its range and the strength of its effects.’

Weiming considered the words carefully. They differed fundamentally from everything he had read so far. Yet upon reflection, his master was correct. Arrays typically required entire groups of cultivators and often relied on specific geographical features. If an array could be miniaturized to the point that a single person could deploy it without sacrificing range or power, the advantages would be immense.

“How do I store an array imprint?” The Xuan asked as he finished.

“Store it within your sea of consciousness,” the one called Huiran answered.

Fortunately, it appeared the Xuan already understood the process. The completed array dissolved into a wisp of light and entered the forehead of his deer-skull head. He rose swiftly to his feet. Weiming leaned forward slightly, eager to see what miniature array the Xuan had created.

Then the Xuan produced a spinning object.

Both Weiming and his master were thoroughly disappointed.

‘A flagrant waste of effort,’ his master declared.

As for Weiming, his food finally arrived. He turned his attention to the meal and began to eat.

Sniff

A sudden sniffing sound came from right beside Weiming’s head. He recoiled in surprise, nearly falling from his seat as the Xuan’s massive deer-skull head loomed directly above him.

“There’s a smell of something delicious about you,” the Xuan said.

“Haha… yes. The food smells delicious, doesn’t it?” Weiming tried to answer lightly.

“No… not the food. This… this is coming from you.” The Xuan’s hand drifted closer to his head before suddenly stopping, as though he had only just realized what he was doing and forced himself to pull back. Weiming noticed then how massive that hand truly was, nearly the size of his entire upper body. The enormous deer skull remained unbearably close, the Xuan’s frame hunched over him like a predator cornering its prey.

“Wh-what do you mean, Young Master?” Weiming asked, voice tight.

“Are you… under the influence of a curse? Is there a cursed spirit nearby? Or a soul attached to you?”

Cold sweat immediately broke out across Weiming’s back.

‘What should I say, Master?’

There was no answer.

“Who are you talking to?” the Xuan pressed.

“No one.” Weiming choked as the Xuan’s presence smothered him like a physical weight.

“No one? Not… ‘what do you mean’?”

Weiming realized his mistake too late. The Xuan’s hand moved to the edge of his veil and began to lift it slowly. Weiming found himself unable to look away. The air around them seemed to tremble. The edges of his vision darkened, leaving only the veiled skull. Its jaw opened revealing more sets of jaws nested beneath the first.

“Xing.”

Someone called the Xuan’s name. He straightened at once and looked back. The two Tianhe Sect disciples were already standing beside an examiner who had just arrived.

“Come. The City Lord has summoned us.”

“My apologies. That was rude of me.” The Xuan cupped his hands and offered a formal bow before turning to leave with the others.

Only after the Xuan had fully left the dining hall did Weiming manage to breathe again.

‘Master… what was that?’ he asked once more.

‘It would seem the Xuan possesses a very powerful soul, one capable of detecting me,’ his master finally answered. ‘I remained silent so as not to alert him further to my presence.’

‘But… why did he say it smelled delicious?’

‘You do not want to know.’

The warning was quiet and absolute. This time, Weiming took it at face value.

For now.

~ Valarion