Except for those four individuals, none of the other sixteen participants noticed what had just happened. Even that brief exchange, which lasted only a few seconds, went completely unnoticed — not because they were inattentive, but because the sixteen platforms were divided into four separate groups: one with five platforms, the others with four, four, and three respectively.
Each group was marked with a different color, and the distance between them was considerable. It was also likely that each section was isolated by some formation, invisible to the naked eye.
In just a few moments, Zhao Wushen — who had collapsed unconscious earlier — suddenly stood up as if nothing had happened. He calmly patted the dust off his robe, composed himself, then turned in Su Chen's direction. With a respectful bow, he said in a sincere tone,"Please forgive my earlier arrogance,Venerable. This Zhao Wushen was ignorant. I hope you can pardon my foolishness."
This shocked the three spectators who had witnessed the duel. The proud bearer of the ancient dual pupils, known for his arrogance, was now actually apologizing? They had half-expected him to start cursing Su Chen or making excuses about losing unfairly.
Su Chen returned the bow with equal respect and replied in a calm voice,
"There's no need to dwell on it, Young Master Zhao. The Buddha teaches compassion — he forgives those who seek redemption. At your age, such mistakes are only natural."
But deep down, Su Chen's thoughts were far less forgiving:
"Heh… looks like you finally decided to use your brain. Good. Otherwise, I wouldn't have minded plucking out those shiny eyes of yours and playing marbles with them, annogrant bitch."
He didn't speak to anyone. Instead, his gaze drifted toward the gate behind them. Everyone was waiting for it to open so they could enter the next test. But it didn't look like it was going to open anytime soon.
After all, only the most qualified could enter the Immortal Palace and claim the inheritance. Before that, there would definitely be a fight. And more challengers would surely arrive.
Judging by the heavenly staircase he had just climbed, Su Chen suspected it wasn't the only one. Others must have ascended different stairways, or there might even be entirely different types of tests awaiting them.
Boom.
Suddenly, a ripple tore through the air as a new figure materialized out of thin air—right in the exact spot where Su Chen had just been standing , when he frist came here after... passing the heaven stairs....
The sudden arrival drew the attention of all sixteen cultivators on the platform. One by one, their gazes snapped toward the new arrival.
It was a rotund man, his plump figure wrapped in a flowing robe of purple and silver Daoist patterns. His age was indeterminable—he looked like he could be twenty or sixty, depending on how you squinted. His cheeks were round, his steps oddly light, and there was a faint fragrance of roasted meat clinging to him.
The fatty squinted at his surroundings, taking a slow look around the platform. He swept his gaze across the scene, nodding to himself with a thoughtful expression.
In his view, there were only fifteen platforms.
The sixteenth—Su Chen's—remained hidden. Su Chen was still seated quietly upon it, shrouded by an obscure outsider aura that made the platform nearly imperceptible to others. Unless one looked very closely, it was as if it didn't exist at all.
The fatty didn't seem to notice it—or perhaps he simply dismissed it. Either way, his attention remained fixed on the visible platforms and the cultivators occupying them.
He seemed to instinctively understand that in order to proceed through the gate ahead, he would need to claim one of the platforms.
His eyes scanned the cultivators one by one, sharp and calculating—until they settled on the one who, according to him, looked like the weakest, standing quietly at the edge.
Everyone tensed, preparing for battle.
But instead of launching an attack, the fat Daoist waddled over to the youth standing at the far end.
The youth wore a spotless silver robe, embroidered with fine thread that shimmered in the light. He looked wealthy—pampered even—with a paper fan in hand, which he lazily waved back and forth as if the entire world was beneath his notice.
The fatty stopped a few steps in front of him, and then smiled. It was a wide, greasy smile, the kind that made people instinctively guard their wallets. His eyes didn't smile with him—in fact, they looked entirely too calculating.
"Hehe… Young Master," the fat man said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together, "this platform of yours… it's calling to me. I swear it whispered my name the moment I arrived."
He leaned in slightly, voice still polite but clearly insincere.
"How about you do this poor Daoist a small favor and step aside, hmm?"
From the sidelines, a few cultivators furrowed their brows in disgust. The fat man's tone was courteous, but his intent couldn't have been more shameless. He wasn't asking—he was clearly staking a claim.
But Su Chen, still seated on his hidden platform, only raised a brow and sipped calmly on a spiritual fruit he'd pulled from system storage space.
"Finally, someone who talks sense," he murmured under his breath."This guy's got potential."
The youth in the silver robe froze mid-motion, his fan pausing in the air. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the fat cultivator in disbelief.
"You're telling me… to step aside?" he asked coldly, his voice laced with arrogance. "Audacious. Do you even know who I am?"
His expression twisted in anger—not just because the fatty dared to speak to him like that, but because he had clearly been chosen as the weakest target. That alone bruised his pride more than anything else.
The fat monk clasped his hands together with a sheepish grin. "Hehe… please forgive me, Young Master. But, do you know who I am?"
Seeing that the silver-robed youth didn't respond, he continued with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Since you clearly don't… let me offer some friendly advice. In a place like this—unknown, unpredictable—if something unfortunate were to happen to you… I doubt the force behind you would ever even find out who did it."
His voice remained soft, polite even, but the threat beneath it was unmistakable.