Chapter 6: Sect Entrance Selection

Three months passed in the blink of an eye.

A paper crane flew into Lin Lingshu’s dwelling. With the help of the Heavenly Dao, her path change had already succeeded. Lin Lingshu, seated cross-legged, finished absorbing the world’s spiritual energy, yet she did not immediately open the paper crane.

She stared at her palm, her expression complicated—a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and excitement. A faint smile curved her lips.

“This Thunder Path is really quite marvelous.”

Then, Lin Lingshu unfolded the paper crane.

“A selection exam? Looks like the plot is finally starting.”

In the novel Inquiry into Immortality, the disciple selection began the story—from the male lead Wang Shuheng’s perspective. He passed three tests, became a disciple under Master Danlu, and began his journey of leveling up, fighting monsters, and collecting his harem.

A streak of thunder light flashed in Lin Lingshu’s hand, and the paper crane instantly disintegrated into ashes.

“Heavenly Dao, as a variable in this world, does my aid to the male lead constitute interference in the world’s original plot?”

“Otherworld guest, small shifts can change, great currents cannot,” the smooth pale-white Heavenly Dao sphere answered mechanically as it slowly took form in the sky.

“Hm.”

Lin Lingshu summoned Han Li Sword and rose by sword flight.

Spirit Sword Pavilion

Fairy mists curled around tall mountain peaks, countless spires piercing into the sky. At the outermost peak, two rock spires rose sharply, a clear creek meandering around them, reflecting turquoise waters against the towering mountains.

Hundreds of sect disciples performed various Dao techniques. Formation arrays sprang up from the earth—yellowish fertile soil turning to stone, embedded plates activating spiritual stones that shone brilliantly.

As a righteous sect on par with Baiyun Temple, Wind-Thunder Sect, and Hundred Flowers Valley, the Spirit Sword Pavilion housed three Nascent Soul cultivators: Water Moon Immortal Aunt, Master Danlu, and Daoist Forget Sword. Even the Nascent Soul-level Purple Sword Ancestor stood watch—a millennia-long legacy unbroken.

At this moment, Wang Shuheng was working as a shop assistant. After being saved by Lin Lingshu last time, he followed her words and traveled to a nearby town. He soon learned that four months later, the Spirit Sword Pavilion would open its gates for disciple recruitment.

He took a job at the mountain’s foot, sustaining himself while waiting.

“Boss, I’d like to settle my wage.”

Wang Shuheng changed into simple white cloth. His tall, straight figure, tanned skin, chiseled brows, high nose bridge, and jet-black eyes that sometimes flashed light gave him a rugged yet handsome appearance.

“Hmm, Xiao Wang, are you here to participate in the Spirit Sword Pavilion’s disciple selection?” the boss asked.

“Yes, Boss.”

The shopkeeper didn’t say more. At forty-something, with no sons and only a daughter, it was obvious he hoped Wang Shuheng would become a son-in-law.

If Lin Lingshu had been present, she would definitely have praised the male lead for having such a natural romantic aura.

Wang Shuheng took several copper coins from the boss and left.

At the foot of the Spirit Sword Pavilion, the crowd bustled, carriages and horses flowing in streams.

“Isn’t that Brother Ren?”

“Little Brother Wu, you’re here too?”

“I heard Miss Ning came as well.”

“What? The eldest daughter of the Yongxing Ning clan?”

“Yes, that very one.”

In this cultivation world, families existed independently of sects. Clan leaders were usually no stronger than the Golden Core level. That was why there were only four major sects, but not four major clans.

Wang Shuheng paid no mind to the conversations and strode toward the registration area.

The disciple in charge of registrations glanced up.

“Name?”

“Wang Shuheng.”

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

The disciple tossed him a copper token. “Group C, number twenty-three. Go wait.”

Wang Shuheng took the token and found a slightly elevated spot, carefully observing the surroundings.

After the time of one incense stick burning—

“Group C, numbers 1 through 43, follow me.”

A disciple called out.

A small group quickly gathered, and Wang Shuheng joined. The disciple, seeing the group complete, pulled out a compass-like device, inserted a spirit stone, and a beam of light enveloped them.

Wang Shuheng instinctively closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in a completely different place.

Curiously, he examined the surroundings. Most others did the same, while a few looked down on them with disdain, as if seeing unsophisticated country bumpkins.

“Junior Brother Li, you’ve worked hard.”

A disciple in gray-white Dao robes greeted the one who had led Wang Shuheng’s group.

“Senior Brother Ren, the candidates have arrived. I’ll go guide the next batch.”

With that, the person turned into a long rainbow and departed.

Ren Ding held a gray circular plate and addressed the forty-three candidates.

“To enter the Spirit Sword Pavilion, you must pass three tests. This is the first: testing innate talent. I’ll call you one by one. Place your hand on the Spirit Testing Device. Those with average or above talent stand to the left. Those below average, to the right.”

“Wu Zhang.”

A black-faced burly man stepped forward, placing his hand on the device. Only faint light flashed inside.

“Innate talent: low low.”

He moved to the right.

“Next, Xie Tian.”

A tall, thin man stepped up.

“Innate talent: middle middle.”

He moved to the left.

“Next, Murong Xue.”

A woman with a heroic bearing stepped forward.

“Innate talent: upper upper.”

A chorus of astonished voices rose.

“Next…”

The first test proceeded quickly. Seeing that nearly two-thirds of the crowd had low innate talent, Wang Shuheng began to feel nervous.

“Next, Wang Shuheng.”

When his turn came, he walked forward confidently, though his palm was sweating, and placed it on the Spirit Testing Device.

“Innate talent: middle upper.”

Hearing this, Wang Shuheng breathed a sigh of relief.

The first test soon ended, and Ren Ding led those with passing talent toward the second testing ground. Those on the right were dismissed immediately.

When Wang Shuheng opened his eyes again, he saw a path stretching upward toward the heavens.

Second Test – Ascending the Immortal Path.

“Use all your strength to ascend. Walk as far as you can,” Ren Ding instructed.

Meanwhile, back in the main hall, several Foundation Establishment disciples observed the candidates’ performances via projection spells.

But the side seats were theirs only. At the main seats sat three Qi Condensation disciples—two women and one man: Lin Lingshu, Ye Danxiang, and Chen Zhujian.

They shared a common trait: all three were genuine disciples of Nascent Soul masters. A solid foundation of both talent and technique was indispensable in cultivation.

Lin Lingshu sipped her returning tea while watching the projections in the air. Although her gaze swept across each candidate, her true focus was only one—Wang Shuheng.

According to the original plot, he would choose Ye Danxiang’s faction.

Wherever there are people, there will be conflict. Even the most harmonious sect contains competition. The Spirit Sword Pavilion was internally divided into three factions, each tracing back to a Nascent Soul master.

Lin Lingshu recalled the plot as she sipped her tea, watching the male lead step onto the Immortal Path Ladder.

He reached the fifty-ninth step—passing the second test.

Perfect. No deviation from the original story at all.