The Spirit Testing Hall
Qingyu Continent.
Yan Province, Dragon Yuan Mountain, Lin Family Residence.
Morning mist coiled around the peaks of Dragon Yuan Mountain like drifting silk, thin yet persistent, refusing to disperse even under the rising sun.
At the highest plateau of the mountain stood the Spirit Testing Hall—a structure both ancient and imposing, its towering pillars carved with coiling dragons and blooming lotus patterns. Time had not eroded it; instead, it seemed to have deepened its presence, like an old beast watching silently over generations.
Today, the hall was more crowded than usual.
A line of children stretched from the inner chamber all the way to the entrance steps. Boys and girls stood shoulder to shoulder, each wearing robes embroidered with the Lin Family insignia.
They were between nine and twelve years old.
This was the age.
The age when fate revealed itself.
Inside the hall, the air felt heavy.
Not suffocating—but dense.
Spiritual qi flowed through the space like an invisible tide, pressing gently against the skin. For ordinary people, it might go unnoticed. But for those sensitive enough, it felt like standing in deep water.
At the very front of the hall, several elders stood in silence.
Their robes were long and flowing, their expressions calm and distant. Some had white hair, others looked no older than middle-aged men—but every single one of them carried an aura that made the children instinctively lower their heads.
These were cultivators.
Real cultivators.
To the children, they were as unreachable as the heavens.
Between the elders, placed upon a waist-high jade pedestal, rested a simple sphere.
It looked ordinary.
Grey. Smooth. Unremarkable.
But everyone knew—
that orb decided everything.
"Next."
The voice of an elder echoed calmly through the hall.
It wasn't loud.
Yet every child heard it clearly.
A boy stepped forward.
His name was Lin Hu.
His steps were stiff, his palms slightly damp with sweat. He swallowed nervously as he approached the orb.
Behind him, whispers rippled faintly.
"Do you think he has it?"
"He looks nervous…"
"I heard his father is just a steward…"
Lin Hu placed both hands on the sphere.
Silence.
The hall grew still.
Even the faint whispers disappeared.
Nothing happened.
The orb remained dull.
Cold.
Unresponsive.
The elder didn't even look surprised.
"Lin Hu," he said indifferently.
"No spiritual root."
The words were simple.
But they struck like a hammer.
Lin Hu's fingers trembled.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then—
slowly—
he withdrew his hands.
His shoulders slumped.
He turned and walked away.
No one comforted him.
No one spoke.
Because everyone knew—
this was normal.
"Next."
Another child stepped forward.
And then another.
One after another—
they tested.
One after another—
they failed.
"No spiritual root."
"No spiritual root."
"No spiritual root."
The elders remained expressionless.
In the cultivation world, spiritual roots determined everything.
Without them—
one could not cultivate Qi.
Without Qi—
one could never step onto the path of immortality.
Even in a cultivation family like the Lin Family—
most people were still ordinary.
Time passed slowly.
The tension in the hall grew heavier with each failure.
Some children began to pale.
Others clenched their fists tighter.
Then—
something changed.
A faint glow flickered.
The orb lit up.
A soft blue radiance spread across its surface, like ripples on water.
The elder's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Lin Qing."
A girl stood before the orb.
She was slender, her black hair tied neatly behind her head. Her expression remained calm, almost indifferent—but her eyes were focused, unwavering.
"Dual spiritual roots," the elder continued.
"Water and Ice."
A brief pause.
"Earth-grade."
The hall erupted.
"What?!"
"Dual roots?!"
"Earth-grade?!"
Even the elders reacted this time.
One stepped forward immediately.
"I will take her as my disciple."
Another elder frowned.
"She belongs to my lineage."
"She is more suited for cold attribute cultivation—she should come with me."
Voices overlapped.
The previously calm atmosphere fractured instantly.
Lin Qing remained standing where she was.
She didn't speak.
But deep within her eyes—
a faint light flickered.
Desire.
Then—
The air changed.
A pressure descended.
Not from above.
Not from any visible direction.
It simply… appeared.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Irresistible.
The elders froze.
Their arguments died instantly.
Even breathing felt difficult.
The children trembled.
Some nearly fell to their knees.
Then—
a voice echoed.
Calm.
Slow.
Yet carrying absolute authority.
"She is mine."
No one dared object.
No one could object.
The next moment—
Lin Qing disappeared.
Gone.
No movement.
No trace.
The pressure lifted.
Just like that.
The hall returned to normal.
But no one spoke.
The elders remained silent.
Because they all knew—
That voice belonged to someone far above them.
An existence they could not challenge.
Among the children—
reactions varied.
Shock.
Envy.
Awe.
Fear.
Some clenched their fists.
Others stared blankly.
And at the very back of the line—
a boy stood quietly.
Lin Sheng.
He had watched everything.
From the beginning.
To the end.
But his expression—
remained unchanged.
No excitement.
No envy.
No disappointment.
Just calm.
"Next."
The elder's voice sounded again.
The line moved forward.
Eventually—
it was his turn.
Lin Sheng stepped out.
His footsteps were steady.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just… natural.
No one paid him much attention.
By now, most of the children had already lost hope.
The orb had rejected too many.
Lin Sheng stood before it.
For a brief moment—
he looked at the sphere.
Then—
he placed his hand on it.
Cold.
That was the first thing he felt.
A chilling coldness that seeped into his palm.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
No light.
No reaction.
The orb remained silent.
Just like it had for the others.
The elder glanced at the sphere.
Then at Lin Sheng.
There was no disappointment in his eyes.
No expectation either.
Just routine.
"Lin Sheng."
A brief pause.
"No spiritual root."
The words fell.
Flat.
Unremarkable.
No one reacted.
Because this outcome—
was common.
Lin Sheng withdrew his hand.
He didn't sigh.
He didn't hesitate.
He simply nodded.
Then turned around.
And walked away.
Step by step—
he left the hall.
No one stopped him.
No one called his name.
Behind him—
the testing continued.
More children.
More results.
But Lin Sheng didn't look back.
He stepped outside.
The sunlight felt warm against his face.
The mountain breeze brushed past him gently.
For a moment—
he stood there.