Lin Xi pushed aside the thick curtain and entered the tent where the seven elders of the academy were seated. At first glance, he was utterly shocked.
On a long, ornately carved table more than half a man's height, all sorts of items were laid out—various colored refined metals, numerous sheepskin scrolls, strangely shaped plants and dry herbs, silver instruments of all kinds, and an array of weapons. Among the weapons were short blades, long spears, swords, uniquely shaped arms like Emei piercers, and bows and arrows.
But the most horrifying were the jars filled with floating organs and eyeballs.
More than a dozen clear jars, large and small, filled with dark red medicinal fluid, preserved a variety of bizarre organs and bulging eyeballs—unnerving and grotesque.
Behind these jars sat a kind-faced, plump middle-aged woman. Her amiable demeanor starkly contrasted with the disturbing contents in front of her.
Next to the middle-aged woman sat an elder with brown pupils and a large gray-white beard. His expression was blank and stern.
Beside the gray-bearded elder stood a tall, handsome man with jet-black hair tied up with an ancient hairpin. His appearance immediately reminded Lin Xi of Fei Xiang, the singer of A Fire in Winter. Yet what truly puzzled Lin Xi was that this man's age seemed like a riddle—he looked young, but Lin Xi instinctively felt that he was far older. His eyes were cold and hollow, reminiscent of two pitch-black tunnels.
The moment Lin Xi met the man's gaze, his eyes began to sting slightly.
Unconsciously turning his head to avoid the man's eyes, Lin Xi noticed an elderly man with one arm sitting in the corner like an observer. Though he too wore a black academy robe, the emblems of a qilin and a mandarin duck on his chest and sleeves marked him as distinct.
"You're Lin Xi? Have you trained in soul power before?" At that moment, before Lin Xi could finish surveying the rest of the elders, the test had already begun.
The one speaking was the cold and imposing black-haired man.
His voice was only slightly above a whisper, and he clearly disliked wasting time. As he spoke, he pointed at the pile of weapons in front of him. "Come here and look at these weapons. Which one feels the most suited to you?"
"I'm Lin Xi. I've never trained in soul power."
Steadying himself, Lin Xi stopped observing and stepped forward, focusing his attention on the weapons the black-haired man had pointed out.
The academy's strangeness, the legendary figure who gave him an eerie feeling, and the bet with that golden spoon youth—all of this made Lin Xi decide firmly in his heart: he had to get into Qingluan Academy.
These must be soul weapons… That was Lin Xi's first thought.
Like Zhang Ping's dagger, all ten or so weapons, including the black bow, were made of a black refined metal, engraved with intricate patterns.
"Hurry up. Pick one!" the black-haired man suddenly urged.
Lin Xi's brows twitched. Without hesitation, he chose a sword from the pile.
The sword was about six feet long, its blade astonishingly thin—no thicker than stacked bamboo leaves—yet it gave off an impression of exceptional toughness. In addition to the engravings, the blade bore fine, cloudy forging patterns.
The black-haired man nodded coldly. "Good. Put the sword down."
Though puzzled, Lin Xi obediently placed the sword back down. It wasn't heavy, weighing around ten jin.
"Now look at these pieces of metal and these scrolls. Based on intuition, which piece of metal best matches which scroll pattern? Pair them."
A raspy, stern voice suddenly rang out.
It came from one of the three elders Lin Xi hadn't yet examined. This one was a hunchbacked old woman in black robes, with messy gray-white hair, the tips yellowed. She was frail, wrinkled, with sunken triangular eyes and yellowed skin. Her blackened fingernails made her resemble an old witch.
She pointed to four square refined metal blocks and four spread-out parchment scrolls.
The metals were fist-sized and square—two were black, one red-gold, one silver. The scrolls depicted different patterns: two looked like twisted vines, one like a phoenix's tail feathers, and one like ripples on water.
"These should be the patterns used to forge soul weapons, right? Each metal has its most compatible pattern? Are you testing if I have the intuition to pair the right ones?" After a brief pause, Lin Xi asked seriously.
The old witch's brows furrowed slightly in displeasure, yet her gaze also carried a trace of intrigue. "You're not wrong. Only when the correct pattern matches the proper refined metal can a soul weapon be forged."
"'Pattern'... so that's what it's called. I wonder if that's the original term or something Dean Zhang made up." Lin Xi mused. Without waiting for a scolding, he quickly added, "This counts as a talent test, right? If I get it all wrong, could you tell me the correct answers? I've traveled a month from Lulin Town... even if I fail, I'd like to learn something. That way it won't feel like a total waste."
"Fine," the old woman nodded. "I'll tell you the correct answers after. For now, begin."
With a warm smile, Lin Xi noted that despite her appearance, the old woman didn't seem so fearsome. Without hesitation, he matched the two vine-patterned scrolls with the black metals, the phoenix-feather scroll with the red-gold metal, and the ripple-pattern scroll with the silver one.
"Utter nonsense," the old woman snapped. She had seemed to harbor some goodwill toward Lin Xi, but now her expression turned scornful. "This is Blackwater Gold, which only works with water patterns. This is Black King Iron, which matches phoenix patterns. Red Iron goes with Evergreen patterns. Silver Radiance Gold uses vine patterns."
She pointed each one out, fuming. "Even if you guessed, you should've gotten at least one right. But you got them all wrong. You've no talent for 'Heavenly Craft'."
"Not even one right?" Lin Xi scratched his head awkwardly—this was bad.
Before he could respond, the plump middle-aged woman behind the jars and herbs spoke up. "Look over here."
"You saw everything clearly?"
Lin Xi had only just turned his gaze when she pulled a white cloth over the table, covering everything.
"Describe all the herbs on my table—types, appearances, and placements. Exclude the jars."
Lin Xi froze. A memory test? But he'd paid almost no attention to the herbs—his focus had been on the jars and the woman herself.
After a brief pause, Lin Xi simply shook his head. "Didn't remember a single one."
The woman's expression changed subtly. She opened her mouth as if to speak but merely sighed and shook her head in silent frustration. Among all the candidates, Lin Xi had been the calmest facing the grotesque display she'd laid out, but his performance now thoroughly disappointed her.
Then, an elderly voice spoke: "Among these five eggs, only one is alive and can hatch. Pick it."
The speaker was one of the two remaining elders—a short, shriveled old man with braided golden hair that was smooth and spotless, despite the rest of his aged appearance.
In front of him were five eggs of different sizes—the largest about the size of an ostrich egg, blue-black in color; the smallest like a sparrow's egg, grayish brown.
"Looks like you're in charge of Spirit Sacrifice admissions," Lin Xi smiled brightly. "If I guess wrong, will you tell me the correct answer?"
The golden-haired old man gave Lin Xi a glance and nodded without any unnecessary words.
"I'll guess this one," Lin Xi said, pointing to a red egg resembling a hen's egg.
The elder glanced at it and said flatly, "That's an ordinary chicken egg… it's been cooked. The only cooked one."
Cough, cough... Amid the severe atmosphere, only one person failed to suppress a laugh.
The only one who didn't laugh was a grim-looking middle-aged man in a gray leather cap who hadn't spoken yet. He had a rectangular face, ghostly pale skin, and an expressionless, rigid demeanor.
"You can still laugh," the golden-haired elder muttered, shaking his head. "The biggest egg was the living one."