Doing both civil and martial trials simultaneously was far harder than clearing either twice, it was practically impossible!
Most people couldn't even multitask normally. How could someone possibly fight a battle while solving exam problems?
It was like taking a physical fitness test and a math exam at the same time. Impossible.
Outside, the cultivators erupted in disbelief.
"He's lost it!"
"Typical hot-headed youth. Let's see how fast he comes crawling back out! So this is the so-called tenth place on the Lesser Heaven List?"
"A few pills inflated his realm and he thinks he's invincible. Doing both at once? What a farce!"
"The tower's changes are broadcast straight to the Jiangling River. The entire city will see this humiliation..."
The young cultivators shook their heads, sneering.
The tower had stood for countless years, and only a handful had ever reached the seventh level.
Those few were all at least third-grade masters.
Gu Fangchen's real combat record was almost nonexistent; in their eyes, he was just a reckless fool.
Even if he wanted to prove himself, this was the dumbest possible way to do it.
Now, instead of embarrassing himself once, he'd do it twice.
Yet the spectacle was too outrageous not to watch. The onlookers' attention drifted from the pleasure barges back to the tower, and the crowd thickened rapidly.
Word spread like wildfire, after all, people loved a good show.
And if he somehow succeeded, this feat would be recorded in history.
All eyes turned upward, waiting.
The tower was sealed; they couldn't see what went on inside. Only when the restriction lifted and the Monument of Transmission emitted its five-colored radiance would they know progress had been made.
...
Far off on the river, the Dugu Family's pleasure barge glided gently over the waves.
A breeze carried the scent of powder and laughter from the deck, where a group of young ladies and matrons chatted, reciting little poems as they admired the scenery.
Amid them sat Ning Caiyong, gazing absently toward the tall tower on the distant bank.
She wore a plain yet elegant gown of ink-black and white, plum blossoms blooming along her slender waist, a crimson shawl draped loosely over her arms. Against that restrained palette, the streak of red was dazzling.
Few could wear such contrasting colors without being overpowered, but Ning Caiyong, with her peerless beauty, eclipsed even the color itself.
At a glance, all eyes would fall on her face first; her clothes came second.
The woman once hailed as the most beautiful under heaven remained untouched by time.
Even among the youthful blossoms around her, she outshone them all.
She had come not only to witness Gu Fangchen's trial, but also with the thought of finding a future princess consort for him.
Yet now, surrounded by these young maidens, memories stirred, leaving her strangely uneasy, tinged with wistfulness.
There would always be newer, younger beauties in the world; what she had lost was the youth that would never return.
Her soft sigh was swept away by the river breeze.
The love that once began had long since ended.
The husband she once thought virtuous had been but a dream.
She looked down at her reflection in the rippling water. As the waves broke, blurring her features, the woman in the reflection looked like the same young girl who had once passed this very tower.
Her dress today was the same one she had worn that day.
Ning Caiyong bit her lip slightly, gazing at the tower with a look that was hard to describe, part yearning, part regret.
How she wished she could start anew, and never meet the wrong man.
Behind her, several Dugu young ladies whispered behind their fans, clearly gossiping about Gu Fangchen's upcoming challenge.
"The first floor isn't difficult. How long do you think His Highness will take?"
"If it's the martial trial, not long. The Northern Garrison Prince once cleared it in ten breaths. His Highness is sixth-grade now... thirty breaths at most, I'd say."
They still believed Gu Fangchen to be at the Martial Courage Realm (Sixth Grade); his breakthrough to fifth grade was too recent for anyone outside to know.
At that moment, faint white light rippled from the tower, someone had entered.
Their chatter had barely faded when,
Two five-colored lights flared at once from the first floor!
Everyone on the barge froze, eyes wide, hands over their mouths.
"How long did that take?"
"Less than five breaths... right?"
"Hiss-"
"But why did both sides light up?"
They exchanged shocked looks.
Surely there weren't two challengers?
He'd only brought one maid today, and that maid, they'd already inquired, was a mere servant girl from a farmer's family, fortunate enough to catch the young lord's eye.
A mortal without a trace of cultivation, how could she possibly clear even a single floor of the tower?
Someone hurriedly took out a message stone to ask those on the shore.
Before the reply could come,
The second floor lit up.
Silence fell over the barge.
"How long this time?"
"Ten breaths?"
"Both sides again?"
A girl checked her stone, her hands trembling so hard she nearly dropped it. "The young lord is challenging both the civil and martial trials at once!"
The words rippled through the fleet. Even those who hadn't cared before stood, staring in disbelief toward the tower.
Ten whole pleasure barges stopped in the middle of the river, motionless.
Soon, the third floor lit up.
"Twelve breaths?"
The fourth.
"Wait, ten breaths again?!"
No pauses, no hesitation, it was as if he walked across flat ground!
The onlookers were struck dumb.
Was this still the same Tower of Civil and Martial Trials that had stumped generations?
Those who had failed before felt their stomachs twist. If it was this easy, what did that make them?
Some even suspected the academy of cheating on his behalf, but that made no sense.
If the academy truly wanted him as a tutor, they could've just exempted him. Why risk such obvious trickery?
Soon, after another twenty breaths, the fifth floor lit up on both sides, and the heavens themselves responded.
Five-colored auspicious clouds gathered above the tower.
"That's literary qi!" someone gasped.
Heads tilted skyward in awe.
To stir literary qi wasn't a matter of luck, it meant that, during the trial, he had created a work so original and profound that it moved Heaven and Earth themselves.
Back at the Qionglin Banquet, a demonic cultivator had once done the same. Now Gu Fangchen had matched that feat, and he was fighting at the same time!
He had composed a piece worthy of celestial omen while clearing martial trials.
Was this still humanly possible?
Everyone stared, wide-eyed, as floor after floor shone above them, like a waking dream.
After thirty breaths, still no movement from the sixth.
"He should stop now. Reaching the fifth floor already qualifies him for the academy."
"Right, must be enough-"
The speaker trailed off as he saw others' looks, realizing how absurd he sounded.
Three decades ago, people would've still been on the second floor after thirty breaths. Now, it suddenly seemed long.
This was madness.
Those who had mocked him earlier hid their faces and slipped away.
A low hum filled the air.
After forty breaths, the sixth floor lit up.
On the barge, Ning Caiyong pressed a hand to her chest. Though she knew there was no danger, her heart still pounded wildly, with pride, relief, and something deeper.
Years ago, Gu Yuanye had reached the eighth floor.
Now, her son had retraced his father's path, and surpassed him.
Surpassed him utterly.
...
In truth, Gu Fangchen had needed only twenty-five breaths to clear the sixth floor; he had lingered a bit on the fifth.
Because there, he had felt a sudden chill of dread crawl up his spine.
Looking out a nearby window, his mouth twitched.
Below, among the crowd, a red umbrella had appeared.
The scholars of Jiangnan preferred elegance, favoring pale robes; amidst all that black and white, the red umbrella was blindingly conspicuous.
Yet none around it seemed to notice.
When his gaze fell upon it, the umbrella tilted upward, revealing the pale, delicate face of a young girl.
But her eyes were fathomless as an abyss, and her expression colder than ice.
He knew that face well.
Not long ago, he'd even impersonated her to claim the title of Dao Lord of the Path of Sentiment.
Yi'er, or rather, Lu Fuyi, Lord of the Four-Phase Calamity.
She hovered in midair, crimson robes like congealed blood, a scarlet parasol spinning gently in her hand, an eerie, ghostly sight.
All she lacked was a black mask, and she would look exactly like the game's terrifying boss.
Perhaps his previous impersonation had drawn her here.
Still, so long as the Wheel of the Sea of Calamity remained in his possession, he feared no retaliation.
He began to smile, ready to tease her again, and froze.
Because behind Lu Fuyi, another familiar figure had appeared.
A woman in azure. Barefoot. Her presence silent as moonlight.
Where her feet touched, luminous blue flowers bloomed.
Her face was cold as winter frost, and her eyes, filled with killing intent, were fixed on him.
Gu Fangchen's scalp tingled. He swallowed hard.
So she'd returned after all.
He had managed to trap Ancestor-Matron beneath the Yellow Springs for a few days, but now, she was back.
No teasing this time. He was running.
And if the academy's masters didn't arrive soon, that run might be his last.
Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and continued the trials, or rather, fled for his life.
Below, Lu Fuyi blinked.
What? A moment ago he'd been cocky, hiding behind the Wheel of the Sea of Calamity, now he acted like a mouse seeing a cat?
A chill wind brushed past her, carrying an icy breath. She spun around, but saw nothing.
...
High above the tower, three scholars stood amid the swirling clouds, gazing down.
They were the same elders who had met at the back mountain earlier:
Liu Wenqing, Head of the Institute of Letters;
Dugu Yu, Head of the Institute of Governance;
and acting Dean Lu Mingyuan, the Sage of the Heart, who presided during the Confucian Saint's seclusion.
Lu Mingyuan watched the signs of talent blooming across the heavens and said softly,
"The boy truly has some skill... a pity."
"For today, marks his death."