The sun climbed higher, its golden rays now bathing the entire plaza. The murmuring of the crowd began to subside as a figure slowly ascended the main dais at the front of the plaza. He was an old man, his hair the color of frosted silver, his face etched with the wisdom of many years, yet his back was straight, his eyes sharp and commanding. He wore the deep blue robes of an Outer Sect Elder, but the aura he exuded was far from ordinary – it was vast and powerful, pressing down on the assembled thousands like a tangible weight, instantly silencing the remaining whispers. This was an expert of the Supreme Realm, a being whose cultivation was a distant dream for every single aspirant present.
The Elder's gaze, calm yet penetrating, swept across the sea of faces. A hush fell, so profound that one could hear the distant cry of a spirit bird circling one of the towering peaks.
"Welcome, aspirants, to the Tianshang Holy Land," his voice boomed, clear and resonant, carrying to every corner of the plaza without any visible effort, a demonstration of his profound control over spiritual energy. "Today, many of you have traveled far, nurturing a dream to walk the path of the cultivator. This path is arduous, fraught with peril, demanding talent, perseverance, and no small measure of fortune."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "The Tianshang Holy Land seeks those with the spark, the potential to ignite into a roaring flame. Not all are destined for this journey. The first trial is simple: a test of your innate qualification for cultivation."
He gestured towards a series of ten large, crystalline orbs placed at intervals across the front of the plaza. Each orb pulsed with a gentle, milky light. "You will come forward in batches. Place your hand upon a Qualification Orb. It will ascertain if your meridians are open, if your body possesses the fundamental capacity to absorb and circulate spiritual Qi. There is no trick to this, no technique to employ. It is a measure of your innate foundation."
The Elder's eyes softened fractionally. "Those who possess the aptitude will proceed to the right, for further evaluation. Those who do not…" He sighed, a sound that seemed to carry a hint of ancient weariness. "…will proceed to the left. The Tianshang Holy Land is not without compassion. Each aspirant who is not chosen for the path of cultivation will receive ten low-grade spirit stones as compensation for your journey and time, a small aid for your future in the mortal world. May you find peace and prosperity there."
The mention of spirit stones caused a ripple of murmurs. For many from humble backgrounds, ten low-grade spirit stones was a significant sum.
The Elder raised a hand, and silence descended once more. "Let the qualification test begin!"
Attendants, Outer Sect disciples themselves, began to guide the first rows of aspirants towards the Qualification Orbs. The atmosphere grew thick with tension.
The first youth to step forward was a tall, lanky boy with a nervous swallow. He placed his hand on the orb. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed with a faint, hesitant white light.
"Qualified!" an attendant announced. A wave of relief washed over the boy's face, so potent he nearly stumbled. He was guided to the right, a wide, trembling grin on his face.
The next was a young girl, her knuckles white as she pressed her hand to the orb. It remained dull, lifeless. Her face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes.
"Not qualified," the attendant said, his voice gentle but firm. The girl choked back a sob and was guided to the left, her dreams shattering around her.
And so it began, a slow, methodical procession of hope and despair. For every faint glow of qualification, there were many more instances of the orbs remaining stubbornly dark. The growing crowd on the right was visibly elated, buzzing with excitement for the next stage, while the ever-expanding group on the left was a somber collection of downcast faces, tears, and the bitter taste of disappointment. Some accepted their fate with stoic resignation, others wept openly, a few even argued futilely before being gently but firmly led away.
Ye Fan watched this unfold with his feigned humble expression, but inwardly, he scoffed. Such a rudimentary test. So much drama over such a trivial matter. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he would pass. His current regressed cultivation didn't negate his fundamental aptitude, which had once been hailed as genius. He was merely biding his time, waiting for his turn to make a calculated impression.
Su Chan, from his vantage point, observed the raw emotion playing out below. It was a stark reminder of the cruelty and selectivity of the cultivation world. For every individual who soared, countless others were left behind. He also noted the efficiency of the process, the sheer number of aspirants being processed.
Hours passed. The sun climbed towards its zenith, beating down on the plaza. The lines of aspirants seemed endless. The piles of spirit stones being prepared for the rejected candidates grew steadily.
It was at this juncture, as another group of dejected youths were being led to the compensation area, that the significance of the spirit stones became a topic of quiet discussion among some of the more informed aspirants, and a point of reflection for observers like Su Chan.
One low-grade spirit stone. To a high-level cultivator, it was practically negligible, loose change. But to a mortal, or a newly aspiring cultivator from a poor background, it was a small fortune. In the common currency of the mortal kingdoms and cities that dotted the Eastern Region, one low-grade spirit stone could be exchanged for approximately one hundred gold coins. And each gold coin, in turn, could be exchanged for a hundred silver coins. A single silver coin could feed a small family for a day in many places. Thus, ten low-grade spirit stones represented a sum that could allow a rejected aspirant to return home and establish a comfortable life, perhaps start a small business, or ensure their family's well-being for a considerable time. It was a gesture of goodwill from the Holy Land, a way to soften the blow of rejection and maintain a positive image among the populace.
The hierarchy of spirit stones was also a fundamental piece of knowledge in the cultivation world. One hundred low-grade spirit stones could typically be exchanged for one middle-grade spirit stone. Middle-grade spirit stones contained purer, more potent spiritual energy, far more beneficial for cultivators at Foundation Building, Golden Core, and even Nascent Soul realms for their daily practice and for powering formations or artifacts.
And further up the scale, one hundred middle-grade spirit stones were equivalent to one high-grade spirit stone. High-grade spirit stones were treasures, each one a condensed crystal of immense spiritual power. They were primarily used by high-level cultivators – Soul Transformation, Void Refining, and beyond – for breakthroughs, for powering large-scale sect formations, or as crucial components in crafting powerful spiritual tools. For most in the plaza, even seeing a high-grade spirit stone was an impossibility.
This economic reality underscored the vast gulf between mortals and cultivators, and even between different levels of cultivators. The ten low-grade spirit stones offered were a lifeline to some, yet pocket change to the Outer Sect disciples distributing them.
The testing continued, a relentless tide. More futures were decided with the simple glow, or lack thereof, of the crystalline orbs. The emotional toll was evident on the faces of the aspirants, the strain visible even on the attendants who had been at it for hours.
Finally, the rows of aspirants began to thin. Ye Fan, who had patiently waited, ensuring he wasn't among the very first nor the very last, found himself nearing one of the Qualification Orbs. He maintained his humble posture, but a keen observer might have noticed the subtle tensing of his shoulders, the almost imperceptible flicker of anticipation in his eyes. His moment to begin weaving his narrative in the Tianshang Holy Land was approaching. He took a steadying breath, the image of the Fairy Peak beauties flashing briefly in his mind, a reminder of the prizes that awaited him.
The vast plaza, now marked by distinct areas of jubilation and sorrow, held its breath as another batch of hopefuls, Ye Fan among them, stepped forward into the merciless light of the Qualification Orbs. The destiny of the "Son of Destiny" within the Tianshang Holy Land was about to take its first step.