Chapter 16

The ruined Back Cang Village received visitors once more; three scouts dressed as mountain folk searched the village, then left. Not long after, eight black cavalry rode flood-dragons straight in; seeing the fresh burial mounds in the village, several hurriedly dismounted and scattered to search.

"My lord, we found our flood-dragon corpses over there — looks like those three have failed. Judging by the traces, two groups have come through, one after the other."

"Damn it. Go track the survivors by the traces first; there's likely a big fish waiting for us. Send a message to the leader, report our current findings."

……

On the official road, a carriage trundled along slowly. Ning Ze and the others had fled Back Cang Village with the fortune-telling old Daoist two days prior; following the old Daoist's method, they first secretly bought a full set of new clothes in Xia Yu City. The fortune-telling old Daoist disguised himself as a servant and drove the carriage; the rest also disguised themselves, posing as scholars seeking the Dao, blending into the crowd under false identities. For better cover, the old Daoist taught them basic common knowledge of the world along the way.

Ning Ze pulled back the curtain and asked, "Old Daoist, your skills are beyond praise — the disguise is flawless, a top-tier talent for escaping death. Tell me, where are you planning to take us first this time?"

Flattered by Ning Ze, the old Daoist's nose nearly pointed to the sky. "First to Fubo City on the Min Kingdom border — there's a suitable bastard there for you lot. We're almost there."

"Old Daoist, how do you plan to arrange things? I want to send them off first; perhaps once we part this time, we'll never meet again in this lifetime." Ning Ze felt somewhat downcast; he knew they couldn't stay together — scattering to different places was the only way to survive better.

The old Daoist didn't reply; the carriage slowly entered Fubo City. Though a border city, Fubo City was a trade hub between the border states and the Min Kingdom, exceptionally prosperous. Being near the border, the local customs favored martial prowess; spies of all kinds and foreigners mixed in like dragons and snakes. Ning Ze's group gawked left and right like Grandma Liu entering the Grand View Garden, nonstop. Especially when figures occasionally streaked across the sky, the whole group gasped in shock, giving the old Daoist quite a headache — youthful temperaments, this disguise was transparent to anyone!

"Was that an Immortal who just flew past?"

"Where'd these bumpkins come from, not even knowing the Immortals of Xi Yue Grotto?" Several sturdy, powerful youths sneered from the side.

Han Xian wanted to retort, but Ning Ze stopped him with a look. These youths' attire showed they were either rich or noble in the city; swords hung at their waists, marking them as martial practitioners — offending them here would be trouble. Ning Ze cupped his fists in apology to the youths and had the old Daoist hurry everyone away.

But the rich youths were bored out of their minds; seeing Ning Ze's measured advance and retreat piqued their curiosity, so they simply followed behind to see what Ning Ze's group was up to. The old Daoist had no choice but to lead Ning Ze and the others straight to the city's Martial Arts Hall. The Martial Arts Hall — training ground for the Military School, used to select and replenish national military talent. Especially in border lands where martial customs ran strong, its Martial Arts Hall was built quite large; those who graduated were basically all border-hardened generals in the army.

The old Daoist spoke a few words with the guard, who led the group into the Martial Arts Hall's rear hall to wait. Unexpectedly, those rich youths followed in as well.

"Fortune-teller, how are you not dead yet? What business brings you here this time? If it's nothing, scram — every time I see you, nothing good comes of it." A coarse voice came from outside; a rather refined-looking old man walked into the rear hall, his voice a stark contrast to his appearance.

"Heh, you stinking bastard aren't dead, so how could I die. What, can't I come visit when I have nothing to do? You never host me when I come; a ghost would be willing to seek you out." The old Daoist didn't back down, firing right back — in verbal sparring, the old Daoist had never lost.

The refined old man knew the old Daoist's temperament; he sat in the host seat without taking the bait and said directly, "Speak. No visit without a reason — what is it? Out with it, no time to bicker with you."

The old Daoist pulled the refined old man aside and whispered in his ear; only then did the refined old man turn his attention to Ning Ze's group of youths.

"You know I've stopped taking disciples. All these years, I hid here teaching military strategy just to be done with worldly entanglements." The refined man's brows knitted, looking quite troubled.

Reading the situation, Ning Ze knew the refined old man was the key this time; he stepped forward quickly. "Sir, we've come ten thousand li just to have you see if we're suitable. Whether you accept disciples or not, we'll present you with a grand gift."

The refined old man's expression barely rippled. The old Daoist knew his friend's character and whispered in his ear again: "I saw something in them — the destiny of generals and ministers."

A sharp glint flashed in the refined old man's eyes. He countered, "Which kind?"

"The kind you're thinking of. Want to make a bet?"

The refined old man frowned tightly. He didn't doubt the old Daoist would deceive him. After pondering a moment, he led the group to the Martial Arts Hall's trial grounds. The rich youths, seeing these country bumpkins had a connection with Master Xiang, immediately bowed and followed. Seeing the place, they seemed to realize something, and grew even more interested in Ning Ze's group.

"No more nonsense. Since you want this old man to take disciples, show your skills — pass the trial grounds first." The refined old man waved a hand, opening the array ahead; he acted swiftly and decisively, speaking plainly.

At this, the rich youths' eyes lit up; they instantly felt luck had arrived and stepped forward to ask, "Master Xiang, can we try too?"

"Aren't you disciples of the Martial Arts Hall? Why come under this old man? Don't go clashing with other masters." Master Xiang turned, sizing up the four rich youths, frowned, and asked.

"Master Xiang, though we are Martial Arts Hall disciples, we have not yet chosen a master. Today we have the fortune to witness Master Xiang accepting disciples; we beg you to grant us a chance to try."

"Since none of you have chosen a master, and fate has let you know of this, come along together." The refined old man saw the four spoke reasonably and behaved properly, considered a moment, and nodded agreement. The rich youths excitedly bowed thanks, and consequently looked upon Ning Ze's group much more favorably. Ning Ze's lot had no good impression of the four — insults in the city were one thing, now they came to snatch the opportunity. Han Xian wanted to rush up and argue; Ning Ze held him back, signaling everyone not to act rashly. Since Master Xiang hadn't refused, they could only watch the four with indignation.

Thus, the four rich youths, plus Ning Ze's twelve, took their chosen weapons and entered the "Trial Grounds" one after another.

The Martial Arts Hall's Trial Grounds were profoundly mysterious. Once inside, Ning Ze found only himself around — no trace of the others. Ning Ze gripped his saber and advanced cautiously; three soldiers suddenly burst from the bushes, their blades still stained with blood. He focused — behind the soldiers lay a corpse: Wang Pangdun. His eyes instantly reddened; barely inside and he saw Wang Pangdun killed. Without a word, Ning Ze slashed at the soldiers in rage. The soldiers were no pushovers; their three-man coordination was perfect, forcing Ning Ze back immediately, then two more pincered in. Ning Ze rolled on the ground to dodge. The soldiers pressed in again in unison, every strike aimed at Ning Ze's vitals. Ning Ze evaded several times but still took three slashes. Creating distance, Ning Ze calmed down — no more reckless brawling. When the soldiers closed in again, Ning Ze charged straight in and unleashed the saber art "First Slash"; the saber light swept across the soldiers' weapons, cleaving man and weapon alike in two. The remaining two soldiers were shocked and hastily retreated, fleeing.

Ning Ze gave chase; the two soldiers fled back to a military camp. Ning Ze didn't dare rashly pursue into it, only falling back to observe. The camp received the two soldiers' report and immediately dispatched a cavalry squad to hunt him down.

After observing and guessing, Ning Ze felt this Trial Grounds was a large-scale illusion realm. The dead Pangdun just now must have been fake too. If so, was the Trial Grounds' requirement to exterminate this military camp? That's too hard.

Master Xiang and the old Daoist were outside watching the Trial Grounds scenes; Ning Ze had guessed right. The Water Mirror displayed the sixteen people's situations; each faced different trials. Master Xiang glanced at them — as far as the first test of character went, Ning Ze's side all passed, while two rich youths were eliminated. Especially Wang Pangdun and Han Xian quite suited Master Xiang's taste; he asked the old Daoist about the two. In the Water Mirror, Pangdun endured humiliation and submitted, ultimately avenging Ning Ze. Han Xian fought with all his might for revenge, finally perishing together with the enemy.

In the later strength trials, only Ning Ze and two rich youths remained inside; everyone else had exited. Only then did the crowd realize it was an illusion-realm trial.

In the Water Mirror, Ning Ze was being chased in all directions by cavalry — seemingly panicked, but actually luring them toward a specific place. Then one saw a group of cavalry fall into Ning Ze's trap and get slaughtered. Ning Ze was ruthless; when the cavalry left camp, he'd already planned a large pit. To avoid suspicion, he deliberately took two slashes while luring them. Unexpectedly the cavalry were very strong, leaving Ning Ze in a sorry state. Now he had to find a way to deal with this camp, or another cavalry squad would emerge and he'd have no way to survive.

Midnight, camp gate. A cavalryman with severe wounds hung over his horse. The guarding soldiers hurriedly rescued him inside. That's right — Ning Ze had disguised himself as an enemy cavalryman and slipped in; the wounds were real. The soldiers didn't suspect him. After the camp doctor treated him, Ning Ze deliberately feigned unconsciousness. Once the surrounding doctors left, Ning Ze opened his eyes.

When outside the camp, Ning Ze found he simply couldn't take down this camp — he could only risk going inside to try. Tonight was the only chance. Ning Ze infiltrated via disguise. The camp was tight outside, loose inside, giving Ning Ze an opening. Now Ning Ze sneaked to the supplies depot, moved the stored oil barrels to the stables. He found ten horses, tied oil barrels onto them. With preparations done, he opened the barrel spouts and gashed each horse.

The frightened horses ran wild through camp; before soldiers could react to intercept, Ning Ze lit a fire on them — fire snakes darted in all directions, instantly joining into a sea of flames. Just like that, Ning Ze didn't forget to shout: "Fire! Come put out the fire! Bandits hid in the tents — kill them!" Then he charged into a tent, dragged out the supply depot guard he'd killed earlier, planning to blend in again.

The whole operation left Master Xiang dumbfounded — how could he be so vicious and shameless, making the fortune-telling old Daoist too ashamed to watch. The remaining people looked at him like a freak — what kind of brain does this Ning Ze have?

Helplessly, man proposes but heaven disposes. The camp's commotion drew out the Immortal in the central tent. A figure appeared in the sky; with a wave of his hand, the fire was swiftly extinguished. Ning Ze watched, heart pounding in terror. Surrounding soldiers, hearing the shouts, had already encircled Ning Ze's tent. Then the Immortal arrived, glanced at Ning Ze — before Ning Ze could argue, his vision went black.