Chapter 34: Immortal Exam Secret Realm, Foundation Establishment Dao Art!

The final word’s tone went off.

But Lin Mo had no mood to joke; instead, he asked curiously:

“The Heavenly Dao System’s Immortal Exam? What’s the difference between the two?”

Chu Wange nodded naturally: “Of course. Ordinary Immortal Exams are just tests; Heavenly Dao Immortal Exams require entering the Immortal Exam Secret Realm—there’s a fundamental difference…”

After her detailed explanation, Lin Mo finally understood what the Heavenly Dao Immortal Exam truly was.

Simply put, the Heavenly Dao Immortal Exam is a test exclusive to those above Qi Refining Level 7, and its content differs entirely from the ordinary Immortal Exam Lin Mo knew.

The exam is conducted by the Heavenly Dao System and consists of two stages: First Test and Second Test.

The First Test assesses cultivation base and spiritual roots; the Second Test, as Chu Wange said, is the Immortal Exam Secret Realm.

Lin Mo pondered: “So they’ve removed spell scoring and replaced it with the Immortal Exam Secret Realm?”

Chu Wange hummed in agreement and continued:

“For most Immortal Exam candidates, the Secret Realm is a crucial stage, because inside it lies the Ascension Art.”

Lin Mo murmured: “Oh, there’s an Ascension Art…”

Then he suddenly widened his eyes: “Wait, you said what?”

Chu Wange repeated: “Ascension Art.”

Lin Mo was instantly stunned.

The barbecue vendor, who had been eavesdropping, also shuddered, his large belly jiggling.

Is this really a topic I’m allowed to hear?

The silence stretched for a while. Lin Mo slightly hunched his shoulders and asked: “Do you mean the Ascension Art that leads to becoming an Immortal?”

“Yes. But why the formal address all of a sudden?”

“The topic’s too shocking—I need to calm down. Is this even something I’m supposed to hear?”

“It’s 2024. What’s so forbidden about it?”

Chu Wange said this wasn’t a secret in the cultivation world—it was public knowledge.

Lin Mo swallowed hard and said: “So does that mean true Immortals have already emerged in the Earthly Nine Continents?”

This was Ascension to Immortality—the eternal path countless cultivators dreamed of!

The Earthly Nine Continents had only entered the Great Cultivation Era a thousand years ago; if true Immortals had truly appeared, it would be a landmark of epoch-making significance.

At this, the eavesdropping barbecue vendor momentarily stopped breathing.

Chu Wange’s face showed confusion: “How would I know?”

Then she understood Lin Mo’s meaning and added:

“You misunderstood. The Ascension Art certainly exists—but it hasn’t spawned yet. And the Immortal Exam Secret Realm probably can’t spawn such a high-tier Ascension Art…”

Lin Mo: “…“

So you were just teasing me?

“But the Immortal Exam Secret Realm has a chance to spawn high-quality Foundation Establishment Art.”

Chu Wange added another point.

Lin Mo: “… Can you stop speaking in fragments?”

Chu Wange swallowed a slice of potato and said: “Sorry.”

Lin Mo sighed and asked: “But don’t the Dao Academies teach Foundation Establishment Art?”

“They do. The Nine Great Dao Academies have collected no fewer than eight thousand, if not ten thousand, Foundation Establishment methods.”

Chu Wange finally put down her skewer, her expression turning serious:

“But every Foundation Establishment Art was originally spawned by cultivators in the Immortal Exam Secret Realm. We cultivators must also enter the Secret Realm to pave a path to heaven for future generations.”

“The elders did it this way. So must we.”

Lin Mo paused, then said: “That’s a huge perspective.”

Chu Wange shook her head: “Not entirely. My father said I have high luck value and am likely to spawn high-quality Foundation Establishment Art—he told me I absolutely must try.”

“...Fine.”

“If you spawn a high-quality Foundation Establishment Art, the Dao Academy will pay top price for it. My father earned his first fortune in cultivation this way.”

Hearing this, Lin Mo couldn’t help but feel tempted.

The mid-grade spell he’d just obtained, “Heavenly Thunder Incantation,” was worth a million—but unfortunately, it was a one-time-use item that vanished after use.

Unless one day he could cultivate it to perfection, reaching full proficiency, he could “replicate” it again.

At that point, whether he sold it on the trading market or to his alma mater, Nanshan No. 4 High, he could reap substantial value.

A single “Heavenly Thunder Incantation” could generate at least ten million for Lin Mo.

If a Level 1 spell is this valuable, what about the far rarer Foundation Establishment Art?

Who doesn’t have luck value?

Lin Mo figured that even if he wasn’t as lucky as Chu Wange—or even Ye Chen—he still had some luck. Couldn’t he at least spawn one or two Arts?

Besides, his current luck value was only a few dozen points—but by the day the real Immortal Exam began, it would rise by at least twenty, possibly over thirty.

It was still low… but at least it existed!

Lin Mo thought to himself, trying to reassure his own heart.

When he finally snapped out of the overwhelming flood of information, Chu Wange had already picked up the last skewer of grilled green beans, watching him with her gaze.

She hesitated slightly, then bit off half and held the rest out to Lin Mo:

“Last skewer. Split it evenly.”

You’re pretty fair… Lin Mo internally snorted, but didn’t refuse—he devoured half the skewer in one go, then turned to the vendor and said:

“Boss, check out!”

The barbecue vendor cleared his throat and stood up:

“Three hundred and two. Just give me three hundred.”

Lin Mo blinked in surprise, turning back: “Hey, you’re being unusually generous today?”

The vendor grinned awkwardly.

Didn’t I just think you two were bragging yesterday? Today I heard you and realized you weren’t lying.

He muttered inwardly.

Nine Great Dao Academies… Immortal Exam Secret Realm… Ascension Art…

Each topic was more elite than the last.

Even if he were the slowest fool, he now knew Lin Mo and Chu Wange were clearly destined future Immortal Masters.

He recalled the days he’d argued with Lin Mo—and felt a chill of dread.

Even though Qinzhou’s Immortal Laws were now well-established and cultivators weren’t officially superior to commoners, the latter were still as insignificant as ants compared to the former.

To a commoner, fighting a true cultivator was like an egg hitting a rock.

Every cultivator knew this.

Lin Mo hadn’t noticed the vendor’s rich inner monologue. He laid several hundred-yuan bills on the table, then turned curiously:

“By the way, one last question—why did you order a hundred yuan more barbecue today? Did you just see how much money I picked up?”

In fact, it wasn’t just today—every time Chu Wange ordered skewers before, she’d priced them with pinpoint accuracy.

For someone whose civil exam score was only 100, this was extremely surprising.

Chu Wange shook her head: “I didn’t see clearly. But…”

She fixed her gaze on Lin Mo, her beautiful phoenix eyes gleaming as if speaking:

“That money was mine.”