Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Palace of Three Crossings

The prison warden in the conical hat released Qiongqi and said to Qin Xiaomo, “Since you’ve made a pact with it, you must guide it toward goodness—accumulate virtue and good deeds to offset the unfinished punishment of heavenly thunder.”

“Absolutely! I will never let it harm anyone again.”

With that, they found themselves once more in that desolate wilderness where candidates gathered.

Ever since Qin Xiaomo had made a pact with Qiongqi, the white furball had taken a strong dislike to it. It grunted and muttered incessantly, baring its teeth provocatively, sometimes even leaping onto Qiongqi’s back to bite its fur and ears. If the little creature could speak, it would probably have a different insult for Qiongqi every time.

“My lady, it won’t do for Qiongqi to go to the registration so openly,” Jiang Wei said.

“Can you change your shape?” Qin Xiaomo looked at Qiongqi.

Qiongqi seemed to understand. With a vigorous shake, it transformed into a black-faced, tiger-striped cat resembling a Siamese—plump-bodied, round-faced, with big, innocent, jet-black eyes. Delighted, Qin Xiaomo clapped her hands. “Perfect! From now on, you’ll be called… Baby, Beibei, Little Cutie, Sweetheart, Treasure…”

At the word “Treasure,” Qiongqi nodded emphatically, thinking to itself: Fine, Treasure it is! At least that name is bearable—who knows what embarrassing moniker she’d come up with next.

Jiang Wei pursed his lips to stifle his laughter and led them to the registration site presided over by Master Willow.

Qin Xiaomo glanced at the barren wilderness around them. “Is this really the place where Master Willow recruits disciples? It looks so desolate; I half expect not even birds dare to fly here.”

Jiang Wei nodded.

“Well, Master Willow doesn’t seem particularly wealthy, does he?” Qin Xiaomo muttered, beginning to doubt the master’s abilities.

“Master Willow is one of the rare few in the three counties to have reached the seventh heaven rank—no, in fact, he is already a deity. He simply hasn’t broken through to the ninth heaven, so he still retains his mortal form.”

“What happens when he reaches the ninth rank?”

“At that point, the body is refined away in the breakthrough, and the person can take on any form. Only a handful of ancient gods have attained such a level, but it’s said that most now dwell in seclusion and concern themselves no longer with mortal affairs.” As Jiang Wei spoke, he gestured ahead. “My lady, we’ve arrived.”

Turning her gaze, Qin Xiaomo saw a small thatched cottage, barely ten square meters in size, not far away. Each person approaching the place was accompanied by a spiritual beast—some so large they dwarfed the house itself. Yet, as they reached the threshold, each creature seemed to shrink or grow as needed to fit through the door, as if some magic were at work. In the blink of an eye, two or three dozen more people had filed in, with a steady stream still entering. Yet, despite the throngs, the cottage’s surroundings remained a barren field, and no one seemed to exit from behind; the little house was like a bottomless pit. Qin Xiaomo’s curiosity was piqued.

Once Jiang Wei had escorted them to the door, he took his leave. Qin Xiaomo, bundle in hand, prepared to step inside when suddenly, a burly man with a shifty look tried to cut the line and blend in with the crowd. But he was instantly repelled by an invisible barrier, unable even to cross the threshold.

At that moment, a female disciple in an indigo-collared gauze dress appeared at the door. Her face was expressionless as she announced, “Sir, please leave. Our San Tu Palace requires all applicants to be at least fifth earth rank to register. You cannot sneak in. Be on your way.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned to depart.

“Miss, I’m just half a rank short. Please, let me in!” The burly man whined, reaching out to grab her arm. The disciple remained calm, didn’t even step forward, but slapped the air from a distance. Instantly, the man was flung back two meters, spat up blood, and, after a struggle to get up, fled in terror.

The disciple turned to address the crowd, “This man attempted to disrupt the examination rules, disturb the order, and harass a disciple of San Tu. He has received a mild punishment. You are all heroes seeking to join us; our palace maintains strict discipline. Let this serve as a warning.”

With that, she vanished from the doorway.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, but none dared linger. They quickly filed into the cottage. As Qin Xiaomo was about to step forward, a familiar male voice called her name from behind.

“Running into acquaintances even here?” she thought, turning to see two familiar faces. “Isn’t this the third young master and fourth miss of Wan Jin Valley? It’s been ages! Zixian, how’s your health?”

“All is well, thanks to your help—without you, I wouldn’t be here. My deepest gratitude,” Xu Zixian said, bowing with clasped fists.

“I thought you were only talking about joining the selection—I didn’t expect you’d actually come…” Qin Xiaomo began, but before she could finish, Xu Qinxian coughed lightly, glancing around. “Where’s Brother Mubai? Didn’t he come? I miss him…”

“Qinxian, mind your manners,” Xu Zixian chided softly.

Qin Xiaomo gave a small, awkward laugh. “No harm done—they are cousins, after all. He’s busy; he couldn’t arrive so soon.” Sensing the awkwardness, she added, “Let’s go in. It’s getting late.”

Xu Qinxian glanced down at Treasure and the white furball in Qin Xiaomo’s arms, her tone full of mockery. “Are those two sorry creatures your spiritual beasts? Hah!” With that, she brushed past Qin Xiaomo, strutting in with her white lion in tow.

The white furball thought, A lion? What’s so great about that? Treasure, show her your true form and give her a fright.

Treasure replied, Master forbids it.

Xu Zixian looked slightly embarrassed. “Please don’t take offense, Miss Qin.”

Qin Xiaomo smiled and shook her head, leading the two beasts through the door alongside him.

Inside, it was indeed another world. A long walkway floated above the clouds and mist, leading to a vast circular arena that could accommodate hundreds. At the far end, atop ninety-nine steps, stood a grand pavilion with a plaque inscribed: “San Tu Palace.”

The main hall of San Tu Palace gleamed with turquoise tiles and vermilion eaves. The three-tiered tower had nine layers of upturned ridges, each adorned with cloud-shaped carvings, lending even greater majesty to the hall. On either side, several two-story buildings echoed the same style, with stone paths connecting them, stretching toward distant, towering mountains. The peaks pierced the clouds, and above, pink and purple clouds drifted beneath a sky sprinkled with starlight—an otherworldly realm.

The arena was already packed with candidates. Atop the ninety-nine steps, a disciple in white stood and spoke in a booming voice, “I am Si Yue, chief disciple of San Tu Palace. Today is the day of our selection. For the peace of the three counties, our master welcomes all heroes who come with lofty aspirations. But only a hundred will be chosen, so a test has been set. The first hundred to pass will become new disciples of San Tu Palace. Please—begin!”

With a gesture toward the right, a five-meter-tall moon gate appeared. As it opened, the crowd surged forward in a rush.

Inside the grand hall, Master Willow sat cross-legged on a mat, clad in a Taoist robe, exuding an aura of immortal detachment. Si Yue entered quietly and stood to one side, not daring to disturb him. After a while, the master finished his meditation, opened his eyes, and stroked his white beard. “It’s begun?”

“Master, the moon gate is open,” Si Yue replied with clasped fists.

Master Willow nodded slowly. “Let’s see how many can pass through the allure of prosperity, the intoxication of pleasure and desire.”

“Master, I don’t quite understand—if everything inside the moon gate is an illusion, isn’t the test too simple?”

“How many have lost themselves to beauty and lust, or thrown away their lives for greed?”

The page ends here.