However, before that devilish aura could explode, the Xuan-Huang Energy from the Divine Furnace pressed back with ancient elegance, disguising the existence of Zhi Xuan's darkness beneath the weight of the majestic earth.

  A youth from the Yao Gu delegation stepped forward. He possessed pale blonde hair that shimmered and eyes the color of the midday sky. In his hand, he held a jade fan where each blade was engraved with small dragons that seemed alive.

  "Welcome, brothers from the Xing Luo Plains and the Feng Mie Plains," the youth's voice was clear, carrying a resonance that soothed the soul yet simultaneously asserted dominance. "I am Mu Chen, the first envoy of the Yao Gu Plains. Your presence has long been foretold by our Heavenly Elders."

  Mu Chen's gaze swept across the Xing Luo group, stopping briefly on the Eighth Prince, then shifting slowly toward Zhi Xuan. As his eyes met Zhi Xuan's blue sapphires, the friendly smile on Mu Chen's face slightly froze. There was a flash of confusion that passed through his eyes, as if he were looking at a black hole wrapped in the light of dawn.

  However, Zhi Xuan remained unaffected by Mu Chen's gaze, looking instead toward the envoy of the Feng Mie Plains who was staring at him. He turned his head and glanced at one of the youths in a golden robe patterned with a Phoenix.

  The youth stood among the Feng Mie Plains delegation with an unusual posture. Unlike his companions who wore dull grey robes, he wore glowing golden silk, where the embroidery of the Phoenix seemed to move whenever the light of Yao Gu's seven suns hit it.

  However, it was not the luxury of his clothes that made Zhi Xuan's hair stand on end, but the aura emanating from his pupils which were as steep as pillars—a gaze that felt like a cracked mirror, reflecting thousands of possibilities of death and the fires of karma in a single blink.

  "Heavenly Eye Technique," Zhi Xuan murmured softly, withdrawing his gaze and looking back at Mu Chen and the Yao Gu Elder and the Imperial Elder who were exchanging greetings. However, he could not divert his mind from the knowledge of the Heavenly Eye.

  the gaze of the youth from the Feng Mie Plains did not stop; he seemed to be peeling back the layers of secrets hidden beneath Zhi Xuan's skin. Zhi Xuan felt as if his entire Sea of Consciousness was being stirred by invisible claws of fire.

  "Interesting," a raspy and cold voice echoed, not through the air, but directly traveling on the mental frequency of the envoys. The youth in the golden robe stepped forward from the Feng Mie line, each of his footfalls leaving a trail of ash that was immediately carried away by the light winds of Yao Gu. "I came all the way across the dimensional storms to seek a worthy opponent, and here I find a stray dog trying to wear a human's robe instead."

  Ye Ming and the Eighth Prince instantly tensed. Their auras exploded, creating ripples of pressure that struck the youth's aura. However, the Feng Mie youth only smiled thinly, a smile filled with profound contempt.

  "Who are you, to dare speak like that in front of the Imperial envoys!" barked the Eighth Prince, his hand already touching the Seven Eternal Gods Bell which began to chime a warning.

  "My name is Yan Fenghuang," the youth replied with an indifferent tone. His sharp eyes remained locked on Zhi Xuan. "And my eyes are never wrong. You... there is something very rotten in there, hiding behind the embroidery of that robe."

  Zhi Xuan remained silent, his expression as flat as the surface of an ice lake. He felt Mei Hua tugging at the edge of his clothes; the little girl seemed uncomfortable with the atmosphere that had suddenly become very hot and stifling. "Brother... that uncle in the golden clothes has scary eyes. He is like a bird that wants to peck at our lantern."

  Zhi Xuan stroked Mei Hua's head, giving her the peace that he himself had almost lost. He stared back at Yan Fenghuang, his sapphire pupils glinting with a cold, challenging light, and for a fleeting moment, the corner of his lips pulled into a thin smile. "The river shall not recede, the tree shall not wither. Each Path always gives birth to majestic secrets. You, have good eyes, Brother Yan."

  Yan Fenghuang narrowed his eyes, the flash of fire within his pupils churning as if offended by Zhi Xuan's unnatural calmness. The sentence that came out of Zhi Xuan's mouth was not a denial, but a veiled acknowledgment wrapped in an elegant ancient tone—a subtle slap for someone who had just hurled an outright insult.

  "A slick mouth for a cultivator from the lower plains," hissed Yan Fenghuang. He raised his right hand, and instantly, the air around him began to be affected by an extraordinary heat, creating a mirage that scorched the white marble beneath his feet.

  However, before the tension could explode into a physical clash, Mu Chen from the Yao Gu Plains flicked his jade fan. A wave of cool wind containing pure Heavenly Law swept across the Court of Holy Light, extinguishing Yan Fenghuang's fire aura and dampening the chime of the Eighth Prince's bell in an instant.

  "Brothers, this is the Court of Holy Light, a place where killing intent is a desecration of the seven eternal lights," Mu Chen said in a tone that remained gentle yet contained an authority that could not be denied. "The Three Plains Competition has not yet begun. Save your fire for the arena provided by the Elders."

  The Imperial Elder of Xing Luo and the Elder from Yao Gu—an old man with a white beard reaching down to the floor and robes that seemed woven from strands of light—finally finished their exchange of greetings. The Yao Gu Elder, known as Sage Qing Xuan, turned toward the envoys.

  "Welcome, superior seeds of the universe," Sage Qing Xuan's voice sounded like the rustling of silver leaves, soothing yet very heavy. "In this Three Plains Competition, I see many new faces participating."

  Sage Qing Xuan then looked toward Mei Hua who was still clutching Lulu tightly beside Zhi Xuan. His wise eyes paused for a moment, his white eyebrows lifted slightly, yet he showed no unease like the others did. "And it seems, destiny has brought along an unexpected little guest into this circle."

  Zhi Xuan cupped his hands, giving a calm salute. "Junior begs forgiveness for the audacity of bringing a family member to this holy place, Sage. However, circumstances do not allow me to leave her."

  Sage Qing Xuan nodded slowly, a movement that seemed very slow yet full of meaning. "In Yao Gu, everything that happens is part of the river of destiny. If she could cross the Heavenly Star Gate without crumbling into dust, then the Heavens themselves have given her permission to stand here."

  Hearing this, Yan Fenghuang snorted harshly, but he did not dare to contradict a Sage of the Divine Transformation realm. He turned around, his golden robe fluttering and creating a sound like the flapping wings of a burning Phoenix. "Enjoy your breath while you can, Zhi Xuan. My heavenly eye will ensure that your secrets will be buried with your bones."

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. Instead, he looked down at Mei Hua, who was now busy watching a light butterfly flying around her feet.

  "It is not the bones that determine the standing of a mountain, but the roots that strike the earth," Zhi Xuan murmured softly, a sentence that sounded more like a whisper to himself than a reply to Yan Fenghuang. He felt Sage Qing Xuan's gaze still fixed on him, a gaze that did not judge but seemed to be weighing the gravity of his soul.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Sage Qing Xuan then lifted his white sandalwood staff, tapping it once onto the marble floor. The echo of the tap spread like ripples in a calm lake, triggering the pillars of light around the court to vibrate and emit a low heavenly song.

  "This Three Plains Competition is different from before," Sage Qing Xuan began, his voice as calm as a blue lake. "If previously there was only an exchange of Dao and elimination, now there are two stages that will be contested."

  The echo of Sage Qing Xuan's sandalwood staff was still vibrating in the air as the atmosphere at the Court of Holy Light suddenly shifted. The towering pillars of light now refracted ancient images swirling above the envoys' heads, displaying landscapes that were foreign yet radiated a stifling ancient aura.

  "The first stage," Sage Qing Xuan continued, his white beard appearing to glow under the eternal light. "Is not a test of brute strength, but a test of the Dao. You will enter the Secret Realm of the Sacred Heaven, where one day there is one year in the mortal world."

  A deathly silence enveloped the envoys as Sage Qing Xuan's words sank into their minds. Entering a realm where time warped in such a way was both a blessing and a curse; one year of cultivation time in one real day was an opportunity that could make a cultivator leap beyond their limits.

  "However, do not expect that realm to be as beautiful as its name," Sage Qing Xuan continued, the smile on his face full of wisdom and mystery. "There, you will be separated, not meeting one another. The Secret Realm will manifest conditions according to the steadfastness of your Dao. If your Dao is fragile, then the conditions of that realm are stable. However, the stronger your Dao, the more chaotic that realm becomes."

  The echo of Sage Qing Xuan's voice seemed to freeze the flow of spiritual essence in the air. The envoys from the three plains looked at one another with varying expressions—ranging from burning ambition to doubt creeping behind their grand robes.

  "A strong Dao will trigger chaos?" murmured Ling Huo, the Young King of the Southern Star, while squeezing his fingers which began to spark with small flames. "Does that not mean the Heavens are punishing those who are talented?"

  "Not punishing, Daoist Ling," replied Mu Chen while closing his jade fan with a subtle chime. He stared at the pillar of light with a look full of longing. "The Heavens only want to see how much weight your shoulders can bear. In Yao Gu, we believe that a diamond will only form under pressure capable of crushing mountains."

  On the other side, Yan Fenghuang from the Feng Mie Plains laughed hoarsely, a sound that felt like the grinding of hot metal. "Chaos is my playground. If that Secret Realm wants to test how much fire I can extinguish, then it will be disappointed when it realizes that I am the fire itself."

  Zhi Xuan remained still, but within himself, he felt challenged. He glanced toward Ye Ming who seemed to be calculating something with his fingers, then toward the Eighth Prince whose face hardened with steely determination.

  "Elder," the Eighth Prince stepped forward, his voice loud, cutting through the heavenly song. "How much time do we have in there? And what is the ultimate goal of this first stage?"

  Sage Qing Xuan shifted his wise gaze to the Prince. "You have seventy real-world hours. That means seventy years for your soul and body inside the Secret Realm of the Sacred Heaven. The goal is simple: survive the test of your own Dao and bring back the formation flag that will appear at the seventieth hour."

  Seventy years. That number hit the envoys' consciousness like thunder splitting the silence of dawn. For a cultivator, seventy years might be just a blink in the pursuit of immortality, but spending that much time in isolation under the pressure of a Secret Realm that hated a strong Dao was a terrifying mental test.

  "Seventy years in solitude..." Liu Feng whispered, his normally calm face now showing thin wrinkles on his forehead. "That is enough to make a sane cultivator go mad, or turn a genius into ash if they are unable to tame their own inner turmoil."

  Ling Huo snorted, though there was a subtle tremor in his shoulders. "If you are afraid your hair will turn white from loneliness, Liu Feng, you had better go home and drink tea in your library. I will use those seventy years to burn my limits to the highest heaven!"

  In the Feng Mie Plains line, a female envoy with a silver veil covering half her face let out a cold laugh that sounded like the clinking of ice. "Fools. Do you think this is only about meditation? Sage Qing Xuan said the realm will manifest chaos based on the strength of the Dao. For those of us who carry the intent to fight, the realm will turn into a hell thirsty for our own blood."

  Suddenly, a fine voice cut through the Sage's explanation. "Then, what about Mei?"

  All eyes turned to Mei Hua. The little girl was pulling the edge of Sage Qing Xuan's robe with a confused expression. "Grandpa Uncle, are there buns in there? Mei does not want to be hungry for seventy years. That is a very long time for Lulu."

  The tension that was previously so thick suddenly melted into a strange awkwardness. Sage Qing Xuan was stunned for a moment, staring at Mei Hua with a look that was hard to interpret. He then laughed lowly, a laugh that traveled like a warm vibration of the earth.

  "Little child, the Secret Realm knows no hunger for the mortal body, because there even the essence of Heaven and Earth is so close," the Sage bowed slightly, patting Mei Hua's head gently, stroking it slowly. "However, since you are already here, of course you must go along with the one who binds your soul."

  Zhi Xuan frowned. He looked at Mei Hua, then at Sage Qing Xuan with an inquiring gaze. If Mei Hua followed him into the Secret Realm that was chaotic due to his own Dao filled with devilish aura and the weight of Xuan-Huang, did that not mean he was placing the girl in fatal danger, or perhaps he simply could not bear to leave Mei Hua alone here.

  Zhi Xuan finally nodded faintly, not questioning further. He still had Xiao Die and Ao Sheng; those two youngsters would guard Mei Hua while he endured the turmoil of the Secret Realm later. He bowed, reaching for Mei Hua gently, lifting her back to his chest. Zhi Xuan held Mei Hua by wrapping the cloth binding again, feeling the girl's calm heartbeat, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts beginning to rage in his head.

  The gazes of the envoys from the Feng Mie and Yao Gu Plains were now fixed entirely on Zhi Xuan. Seeing a participant in the peak competition tying a mortal child to his chest as if he were going to the market, instead of heading toward a deadly Dao test, created a sarcastic sight for them.

  Yan Fenghuang laughed mockingly, his voice parched like fire devouring dry wood. "Incredible. The Xing Luo Plains sent a babysitter to compete with us. Zhi Xuan, if you die in there because you are burdened by that mortal weight of flesh, I will ensure your soul will never find its way back to the cycle of samsara."

  The Eighth Prince stepped to Zhi Xuan's side, his Seven Eternal Gods Bell's aura vibrating violently, emitting pressure that swept across the marble floor. "Your mouth speaks too much for someone who has not even crossed the threshold, Yan Fenghuang. If you want to gamble with your life, do it when the formation flag is in hand, not here barking like a starving dog."

  "Enough," Liu Feng interrupted, his voice calm yet containing a firmness that cooled the atmosphere. He turned to Zhi Xuan with a concerned yet trusting gaze. "Daoist Zhi, we will wait for you on the other side after seventy years have passed. Make sure you do not let the silence consume your soul."

  Ye Ming only nodded slowly, his fingers forming a secret seal behind his robe. "Until we meet at the end of the first stage, Brother Zhi. May the starlight guide your path."

  Zhi Xuan nodded faintly; he shifted his gaze toward the Imperial Elder, Zhu Yanghai, Hua Tianming, and Hua Lian Xi. He cupped both hands in front of him, bowing slightly. "This Zhi will uphold the dignity of Xing Luo, bringing victory to the land where Zhi was born and lived."

  The Imperial Elder nodded, the look in his eyes which was usually as deep as an abyss now radiated a rarely seen glimmer of pride. "Go. Let the universe witness that the spear of Xing Luo will not be broken by any pressure of the Heavens."

  Meanwhile, Hua Lian Xi looked at Mei Hua with anxiety, her lips as if wanting to say something to forbid it, yet she knew that at this level of competition, words were wind powerless against the storm of destiny.

  Hua Lian Xi stepped forward one pace, giving a small, cold jade bottle to Zhi Xuan's right hand. "This is the Morning Dew Liquid from our clan's Ancient Peach Tree. If in there the chaos starts to burn your soul, drink a drop. Do not let your eyes lose their clarity."

  "Bring that victory, Brother-in-Law," whispered Zhu Yanghai with a more serious tone than usual, although he still slipped in the title that made Zhi Xuan's ears burn. "If you fail, I will have to face my sister's ice rage, and I do not plan on becoming an eternal statue in her residence."

  Zhi Xuan only snorted in amusement, but his eyes remained sharp as he nodded to Zhu Yanghai and accepted the jade bottle given by Hua Lian Xi. He felt a massive shift of energy in the center of the Court of Holy Light.

  Sage Qing Xuan, the Imperial Elder, and the Elder from the Feng Mie Plains now raised their hands to the sky together. The seven eternal lights on the Yao Gu horizon seemed to respond, spewing pillars of energy that curved and centered on a gateway of light slowly forming in the air.

  "The Gate of the Secret Realm of the Sacred Heaven has opened," shouted Sage Qing Xuan, his voice now booming like holy thunder. "Envoys, enter! Find your Dao, or perish with it!"