Lines of glowing text appeared before Lu Fan's eyes, prompting a brief moment of surprise before his brow arched in mild interest."Has the [Path-Spreading Altar] begun selecting new disciples again?" he murmured.
Rather than hastily entering the altar, he remained unhurried, methodically arranging the game pieces of Mountains and Rivers Chess. Once the final piece was stowed neatly into the chess box, he lay back upon the bed with practiced ease, drawing a blanket woven from rare silk over himself and closing his eyes in quiet repose.
…
Spiritual energy surged.
At the heart of the Path-Spreading Altar, three indistinct figures gradually took form, their appearances obscured by mist.
Bai Qingniao cradled a downy chick in her arms, curiosity shimmering in her eyes as she glanced about the unfamiliar surroundings. Everything here was strange to her—strange, yet wondrous. Only a moment ago, she had been feeding chickens in the backyard; how had she suddenly found herself in this ethereal place?
Beside her were two equally hazy silhouettes—one bore a scholar's book chest, his air suggesting the identity of a learned man. The other was markedly more stoic, standing rigid and unmoving from the moment they arrived.
Suddenly, Bai Qingniao jolted, clutching the chick tightly in alarm. Above them, within the swirling mist, a figure began to coalesce—serene, majestic, seated within a mystical formation, robes flowing amidst coiling spiritual energy. He resembled a celestial being.
Lu Fan sat calmly atop the altar, gazing down upon the three. His expression was touched by curiosity."This batch of candidates… their identities are even stranger than before."
He muttered quietly.
A bastard son of the Southern Prefecture's Governor? That was… intriguing.
And a poultry-raising girl from Drunken Dragon City?
The last time the altar summoned a pig butcher, Nie Changqing, and now—this? Would the next be a stone-faced chef?
Only Kong Nanfeng seemed to possess a background that made sense. Lu Fan was familiar with the name—he had performed quite admirably within the Wolong Ridge mystic realm. The grandson of the Imperial Preceptor, and the second disciple of the Confucian sect.
Spiritual energy roared and spiraled.
Lu Fan finally spoke, his voice calm and distant:"This is the Path-Spreading Realm—a land of ascension. Here, all may partake of celestial fortune. Remember well: within this sacred ground, never reveal your true identity to one another, lest you draw the wrath of Heaven and fall eternally into the Abyss of Ninefold Hells."
It was the same formal address Lu Fan had used countless times before.
Below, a ripple of emotion stirred.
Kong Nanfeng was elated.Bai Qingniao was bewildered and terrified.
Celestial fortune? Could someone like her—merely a chicken keeper—truly be granted such a thing?
As for Tang Yimo, he remained dazed and unmoving, as though lost in thought.
Kong Nanfeng acted swiftly, falling to his knees in reverence.Bai Qingniao, startled yet imitative, knelt as well, slipping the chick into her blouse. No sooner had she done so than the small bird poked out its fuzzy head, chirping frantically.
Lu Fan's gaze swept to the chick. His lip twitched slightly.
How did… this chicken get in here?
Thunk.
Tang Yimo, belatedly realizing the situation, knelt down as well.
"You are not the first to enter this realm, nor will you be the last. I guard this place and spread the Way to all under Heaven. Those summoned here are deemed worthy of fate."
Lu Fan scanned the trio with a measured gaze—he was rather pleased.
This generation of newcomers is… quite exceptional.
As his words faded, the spiritual energy within the altar surged, transforming into divine towers and cascading waterfalls. A five-clawed dragon soared, a seven-colored phoenix danced among the clouds.
Kong Nanfeng bowed deeply, forehead pressed to the ground in the traditional disciple's salute.
He accepted everything with solemn composure. After all, he had just emerged from the trials of Wolong Ridge and now understood that immortals truly walked this world.
"Thank you, Immortal, for bestowing celestial fortune."
Bai Qingniao followed suit, her actions mimicking his. As her head touched the ground, the chick once again slipped out of her blouse, startling her into hastily pressing it back.
Tang Yimo remained still, as wooden as ever.
Lu Fan did not speak, but offered a faint nod. Then, with a casual sweep of his sleeve—
The spiritual energy condensed, transforming into a waterfall of light that surged toward the three.
Boom!
Kong Nanfeng felt as if his very soul had been cleansed, his mind crystal clear. He sensed two fresh wisps of spiritual energy forming within his core.
He knew how arduous it was to refine even a single strand. In Wolong Ridge, he had nearly died for just one. Yet now, with a mere flick of the immortal's sleeve, he had gained two.
His reverence deepened.
"Thank you, great Immortal. This humble one is eternally grateful."
Lu Fan nodded lightly.
Since Kong Nanfeng had already obtained the Art of Haoran Qi Conduction, Lu Fan did not bestow him another method of cultivation—only spiritual energy to aid his path.
His gaze turned next to Bai Qingniao.
She clutched her chick, trembling slightly under his gaze—mortals naturally feared the unknown. And Lu Fan could clearly sense… she was a true mortal. Untouched by martial training, unblessed by even a trace of aura.
"A chicken keeper?"
Lu Fan murmured, his lips curling into a faint smile.
With a thought, twenty-seven runes emerged—Qian, Dui, Li, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Gen, Kun—each bearing ancient significance.
His eyes gleamed. He was constructing a cultivation method from scratch. Not entirely from nothing—he was referencing the Art of Awakening, shaping something entirely new.
Since Bai Qingniao had no foundation, unlike a Confucian scholar who could summon Haoran Qi, Lu Fan chose to begin… with her chickens.
The runes shimmered, dazzling in their brilliance.
Kong Nanfeng, awed, watched in silent veneration.
Bai Qingniao, meanwhile, trembled violently. She had the distinct feeling that this enigmatic immortal was eyeing her chicken with… great interest.
Tang Yimo, ever expressionless, remained kneeling in silence.
At last, the method was complete.
Lu Fan sent it through the Furnace of Ten Thousand Laws for refinement.
"Simulation complete. Cultivation Method: Ninefold Phoenix Transformation. Grade: ?"
Lu Fan blinked.
"A question mark?"
A flick of his finger, and the cultivation art condensed into a crimson orb of light, which flew swiftly into Bai Qingniao's brow.
The transmission was complete.
Before Kong Nanfeng or Bai Qingniao could speak, Lu Fan waved his sleeve once more.
They—and her chick—vanished into mist.
Only Tang Yimo remained.
"The bastard son of the Southern Prefectural Governor…"
Lu Fan recalled the man: Tang Xiansheng of the Tang Clan—second only to Xiang Shaoyun of the Western Prefecture among the rebel lords, stronger even than the Northern Prefecture's Dantai Xuan.
Below, Tang Yimo bowed low, body flattened to the floor, exuding a reverence tinged with fear and inferiority.
Lu Fan regarded him impassively. Tang Yimo never once dared to meet his eyes.
Yet Lu Fan could sense it clearly—within that frail shell, a fire burned.
"What sort of fortune do you seek?"
Lu Fan's voice echoed, ethereal and distant.
Tang Yimo spoke for the first time.
"I wish… for a blessing that makes pain bearable. That I may shield my mother and sister with my body."
Lu Fan was silent. It was the first time he had received such a request.
A bastard—no name, no status—often suffering scorn and beatings.
Perhaps Tang Yimo's life had truly been bitter.
Lu Fan did not refuse.
Once more, runes danced into existence, encircling him with silent power.
Tang Yimo's trembling form remained bowed low.
At last, the technique was forged. A blood-red orb shimmered in Lu Fan's hand.
With a flick, it flew into Tang Yimo's forehead.
"Go. Become strong—not for power itself, but to protect those you hold dear. May your resolve remain steadfast, and your heart unyielding."
As his voice faded, gales swept the Path-Spreading Realm.
Tang Yimo raised his head with effort, but all he could see was a great hand descending, shattering the world before him.