Chapter 318: Perhaps It Is a Good Fruit

Under a clear midday sky, the blue heavens were washed clean.

On the eighth day of the Heavenly Dao Assembly, the second match began as a bolt of thunder descended, striking Zeng Shun of the Zeng family of Lingzhou, a mid-stage Fusion Dao cultivator, who was blasted off the arena, lightning piercing through his body.

On the high platform, Chen Le sheathed his blade, his eyes brimming with contempt, leaving the spectators in stunned silence.

At twenty-eight, a mid-stage Fusion Dao cultivator—even among immortal sects, this was exceptional talent.

But the problem was, Chen Le had never been famous before; it was as if he had appeared out of nowhere, leaving everyone baffled.

Immediately after, a disciple of the Shanhai Pavilion, Qiao Mo, was flung from the arena, blood spraying like mist.

Qiao Mo was no obscure figure; he had previously shown his mettle at the Heavenly Dao Assembly, battling Chen Shuo of the Chen Immortal Clan, and had only lost due to lacking potent techniques—if not for that, reaching the finals would not have been difficult.

The Qiao family of Yongzhou rushed forward at once, supporting Qiao Mo, then turned their gaze toward the stage.

Zhong Hui, a disciple of the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion, fought barehanded, unarmed, at only seventeen, a top-stage Penetrating Dao cultivator.

"He's even younger than Huo Zhuoqun and already at top-stage Penetrating Dao?"

"This… how is this possible?"

"Does the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion also harbor such hidden prodigies within its ranks?"

On the spectator stands, countless scions of noble families whispered among themselves, their eyes flickering with disbelief.

At this moment, Ji You turned his head toward the northeast as he leaned over the railing.

There stood the visitors from the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion: Vice-Abbot Zhong Ze and the sect's direct disciple, the holy heir Chu Xian.

But besides them, there was a man seated before the two.

The man looked very young, his complexion sallow, making his lips appear strikingly vivid.

He possessed only Penetrating Dao cultivation, yet his posture was domineering—one leg draped over the armrest, his right hand holding a cluster of grapes, chewing slowly.

His eating was so unrestrained that even half the grapes remained, yet juice had already soaked his palm.

The young man seemed disgusted by this, swiping his hand across Chu Xian's expensive purple-gold robe.

On the spot where he wiped, beneath the hem of the robe, there was a faint, indistinct footprint—as if someone had kicked him in the leg.

Yet Chu Xian showed no anger whatsoever, allowing him to wipe, then gently offered the teapot he had been holding.

"Worthless fool! I told you to watch the tea—and now it's cold!"

"Master, please calm yourself."

"Are you dissatisfied? Let me tell you, everything you have today is thanks to me. What do you have to complain about? How dare you be dissatisfied?!"

Amid the furious outburst, Chu Xian's face remained expressionless as he accepted the teapot, gathering spiritual energy in his palm to rapidly heat the tea, then offered it back.

Then Chu Xian straightened his posture and turned his gaze back to the arena, his eyes devoid of sorrow or joy.

At this moment, the gong sounded—Zhong Hui won and descended from the stage.

Ji You was jolted back to awareness by the gong's ring, slowly withdrawing his gaze.

In the following days, similar events continued without end.

The scions of the great families, once considered top contenders, fell one after another, while young disciples from immortal sects kept emerging and swiftly advancing to the next round, provoking constant exclamations.

Especially in Fusion Dao matches, many familiar faces from past Heavenly Dao Assemblies were ousted, replaced by unfamiliar, strikingly young figures.

"Did all your family's youths lose too?"

"Yes… the last one fell today."

"How did Qiao Mo get eliminated in the second round?"

"The cultivation base and age of the disciples sent this year by the immortal sects were truly beyond expectation—I never imagined this outcome when I arrived…"

Groups of noble scions murmured among themselves, their astonishment unrelenting.

In Qingyun Heaven, the term "talent" does not refer to realm, but to speed—and speed means time, meaning age.

A top-stage Penetrating Dao cultivator at seventeen or eighteen signifies the potential to dominate the realm, command the winds and rains, even attain Divine Travel.

If such individuals were as commonplace as this, Qingyun Heaven would already be littered with Divine Travelers.

On the ninth day of the Heavenly Dao Assembly, the third match: Ban Yangshu versus Yan Yi of the Spirit Sword Mountain's Heaven Sword Peak.

They differed by seven years, yet shared the same realm—and Yan Yi had even brushed against the threshold of the Ying Tian realm.

The outcome was unsurprising: Ban Yangshu was knocked off the stage, fortunately unharmed.

Cao Jinsong and others escorted Ban Yangshu down from the stage and returned upstairs, joining Ji You.

In truth, they too were astonished by these previously unknown figures now dominating the Immortal Tourney, yet they were not as bewildered as other noble families.

Because some things were obvious: they remembered Ji You's words upon arriving—that the Five Immortal Sects had reopened a relic.

Like the Heavenly Dao Assembly, even among disciples' matches, each sect maintained its own rankings.

The Shanhai Pavilion surged forward with unstoppable force, crushing all others; the Chen Immortal Clan ranked second, followed by the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion.

Lingjian Mountain, once top-ranked in the Heavenly Dao Assembly, had fallen to fourth—but only Yan Shuyi knew that all those advancing were disciples of the Heaven Sword Peak.

As for Wenda Sect, they ranked even below Lingjian Mountain; the Tian Shu Academy had plummeted to last place.

This scene had nearly overturned the original rankings of the Heavenly Dao Assembly.

Yet even within the immortal sects, subtle differences existed.

For instance, Lingjian Mountain was still regarded as decent—certainly stronger than Wenda Sect and Tian Shu Academy—but Yan Shuyi knew that few of those advancing to the third round were from their Xuan Jian Peak.

At dusk, as the third match ended, Yan Jingxiang, his younger brother Yan Jingrui, and a group of elders from Xuan Jian Peak gathered in Lingjian Mountain's main tower.

At this moment, Yan Shuyi floated back from the spectator stand, her toes lightly touching the floor of the pavilion.

She glanced at the elders, then stepped into the inner chamber.

Yan Jingxiang followed immediately.

"Shuyi, you've seen the situation these past days—the relic's fruit is truly divine fortune. To have it is not a mistake; to lack it is. If we remain passive, disaster will surely come."

Yan Shuyi's eyes turned icy as she faced her father: "Are you here to urge me to open the relic in Lingzhou?"

Yan Jingxiang clenched his sleeve: "Heaven Sword Peak is already dominant, and now they've obtained the fruit from the Great Wilderness Forest. If this continues, Xuan Jian Peak is doomed."

"Do you truly believe a few tiny fruits will embolden Heaven Sword Peak to seize my Sacred Artifact?"

"You're foolish. Even if Heaven Sword Peak cannot act now, can you ignore external threats? The Seven Immortal Sects appear amicable, but once balance is lost, Lingjian Mountain will be unable to survive. The Danzong's fate just days ago is proof."

Yan Jingxiang stared intently at his daughter's back.

The disciples who came to the Heavenly Dao Assembly were already astonishing—how many elders had consumed the fruit?

When power is unequal, peace is impossible. Otherwise, why would Danzong have been slaughtered overnight, forced to seal its mountain in helplessness?

Hearing Yan Jingxiang's words, Yan Shuyi's eyelashes trembled slightly.

Many thought her aloof and unapproachable, but that was because since childhood, she had faced only such choices.

A single word from her could determine Lingjian Mountain's fate—and perhaps even shift the course of the entire realm.

That was why she never wanted to become the Mirror Master, why she refused to bear such a crushing burden.

That was why, that winter, she left the mountain alone and hid in a stranger's courtyard, unwilling to leave.

But she knew her father was right: when the Seven Immortal Sects' power became utterly unbalanced, Lingjian Mountain would sink into endless peril.

Because only a few could ascend to the Immortal Realm; countless others watched this world's scarce resources, calculating every speck—your loss meant my gain.

"Let's wait and see."

"Daughter…"

"Father knows—this matter is too great. I must still observe."

Hearing this, Yan Jingxiang fell silent for a long while, then quietly swept his sleeve and exited the inner chamber.

When the old Abbot vanished without a word, the Spirit Mirror chose its master on its own—choosing his daughter. At the time, Xuan Jian Peak rejoiced wildly, and he had marveled at heaven's will.

He then locked Yan Shuyi in the back mountain, urging her to cultivate in solitude.

At first, she resisted, dreaming daily of escape, even attempting to sink the Spirit Mirror into her Xuan Sea.

Helpless, he dragged wounded disciples from Heaven Sword Peak to her feet, declaring them her fault—and that only she could change this.

From then on, she imprisoned herself within the mountain, never leaving again.

And she never disappointed: she reached Penetrating Dao at ten, then became the youngest Fusion Dao cultivator, the youngest Ying Tian cultivator, and now the youngest Wujiang cultivator.

But this also made her distant from everyone—including him.

Now, Yan Shuyi stood by the window, gazing out at the night, silent for a long time.

Behind her, Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu stood trembling, not daring to speak.

But before long, they noticed the Mirror Master's rigid posture had slightly relaxed, her rosy cheeks puffing gently.

The two turned to look out the neighboring window—and saw the Mirror Master's gaze fixed on the east, where her husband stood at his window, looking up toward them.

Then came the third and fourth rounds.

Disciples of the immortal sects began facing each other; two fruit-consumers now appeared on the same arena.

The Six Immortal Sects, including Ji You, began observing with ever-greater scrutiny.

In the two-versus-one matches, victories and defeats naturally occurred, and with full effort expended, more details became visible.

"Judging by this, their realms and spiritual signatures show no anomalies—the fruit must be benevolent."

"Take Chen Le—he nearly lost an arm to Xiao Hanyan, yet even in rage, he showed no signs of corruption, and his conduct remained normal."

"So perhaps we were all wrong—this truly is a gift from the Heavenly Dao."