Chapter 031: Gathering of Star Feathers

Centered around Pinghua Town, the surrounding mountains and wilderness stretched for two or three hundred miles, dotted with dozens of villages scattered in all directions. Aside from Pinghua Town itself, which lay atop a spiritual vein and served as the heart of the region, all other villages were ordinary lands where spiritual energy was scant. Yet even in this vast expanse, there remained mysterious places untouched by common folk—places where spiritual veins might well exist.

For instance, a hundred miles from Pinghua Town lay Xingyu Mountain, with its undulating hills and treacherous peaks rising thousands of feet high. It was rumored that a hidden immortal sect resided upon Xingyu Mountain; villagers often claimed to witness powerful immortals soaring above the clouds, their feats otherworldly and astonishing. Yet the mountain was perpetually shrouded in dense mist. Ordinary people, once inside, grew disoriented and would only find their way out after wandering for hours. In time, these wild woods became forbidden ground, and few dared trespass.

But today, a strange and unpredictable wind blew from the heart of Xingyu Mountain, scattering much of the ever-present fog. Even so, visibility in the area remained limited—one could see no farther than ten meters before the world dissolved into a white haze.

"The mist is clearing! It must be the day the Windfeather Immortal Sect is recruiting disciples," an excited group of a dozen or so youths exclaimed from one side of the misty expanse.

"At last! We'll get to witness the immortal sect with our own eyes," others said, flexing their fists in anticipation.

Clearly, these young men had been waiting here for some time. And this was just the northwest side of Xingyu Mountain; there were over a dozen youths at this spot alone, and with others gathered elsewhere, more than a hundred people stood watch on the outskirts of the mist.

On the edge of the mist near Yangmu Village, several youths waited as well.

"Young Master Xu, it's said your family’s ancestor once trained with the Windfeather Immortal Sect—your family has some connection to Xingyu Mountain. Surely you'll have an advantage today," flattered a broad-shouldered, horse-faced youth to the Xu family scion beside him.

That youth was none other than Xu Xiaohu, who, having failed the town’s academy examinations, had come to try his luck when news of the sect’s recruitment reached him. After all, the immortal sect’s selection differed from ordinary tests; besides valuing talent, cultivation, and character, they prized that elusive quality known as 'immortal fate.'

Xu Yuan, holding a folding fan, responded with a modest smile. "That was my great-grandfather, a hundred years ago. He served as an outer disciple at the sect and later returned to our village to found the Xu family."

At his words, youths from neighboring villages turned attentive gazes toward him.

"Hmph, what’s so special about that?" scoffed a towering youth, his voice booming like a drum. "Each of our three great families in Yangmu Village has ancestors who entered the immortal sect. The great Zhou family is no different!"

This was Zhou Hongwu, heir of the Zhou family—one of Yangmu’s three great clans. He too had passed the town’s academy examination and was every bit Xu Yuan’s equal in strength.

Xu Yuan simply smiled. "You’re right, Hongwu. All three great families of our village have ties to the immortal sect on Xingyu Mountain."

"Well said, Young Master Xu. I’ve also heard that Xingyu Mountain sits atop a spiritual vein, making its environment far superior even to the town’s. And there’s more than one immortal sect up there. But only the Windfeather Immortal Sect recruits disciples every ten years," Zhou Hongwu declared, his pride showing, causing a few nearby youths to frown in annoyance.

"So what? None of your ancestors became immortals—they’re all dust now. After a hundred years, who remembers them? If you want to join the sect, you need real ability," laughed a scion from another village.

After all, not only Yangmu Village’s families had come to try their luck at the mountain’s base; promising youths from other villages, whose strength rivaled Xu Yuan and Zhou Hongwu, were present as well. A heated debate broke out among these scions.

Suddenly, a clear, bell-like voice rang out: "The glory of our ancestors brings us little help. Admission to the immortal sect is an equal opportunity—what matters most is one’s own talent and power."

At once, the gathering fell silent, hearts beating faster as they gazed at the graceful and radiant young woman nearby. With only a touch of powder on her flawless face, she was fair as new snow, surpassing the beauty of flowers and moonlight. Dressed in white immortal robes, she stood serene and ethereal, her presence enchanting and otherworldly.

Today, Yang Xiaoqian was more captivating than ever, every movement humbling the youths around her.

"Miss Yang is right. In the end, strength is what matters most," one youth quickly agreed.

"I think so too!" echoed others, eager to curry favor.

Even Xu Yuan and Zhou Hongwu were momentarily overshadowed, the former offering a sheepish smile and stepping forward to greet her. The usually imposing Zhou Hongwu became awkward and tongue-tied before Yang Xiaoqian, his mannerisms as subdued as a sick cat.

Yet her clear eyes remained cool, unmoved by their flattery; few, if any, could catch her notice.

Still, more people were arriving, and the group continued to wait.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the treetops a hundred meters away.

"Look!" cried a youth, eyes wide.

All turned to see a figure leaping effortlessly among the trees, soaring dozens of meters into the air before gliding toward them.

"It’s him!" Xu Xiaohu and Xu Yuan stiffened, faces falling.

Even Yang Xiaoqian’s clear eyes brightened, her heart fluttering—he really did come.

With a sharp sound, the youth glided down from the heights and landed lightly on the slope before the mist, as nimble as a swallow.

The tall, well-proportioned figure stood plainly before them.

"Xu Xuan!" someone gasped, recognizing him at once.

Xu Xiaohu and the others clenched their teeth in secret.

A flicker of malice crossed Xu Yuan’s eyes—“Not many knew the sect was recruiting, yet he’s here as well…”

Xu Xuan seemed all the more graceful and at ease as he landed, his mastery of the "Floating Step" clearly improved. His gaze swept lightly across the crowd, pausing briefly on Xu Yuan, Xu Xiaohu, and Yang Xiaoqian.

Xu Xuan noticed that all those entering Xingyu Mountain were mere teenagers, with no family or followers in tow. He did not know that the immortal sect imposed strict age limits: only those under eighteen were eligible to attempt the climb.

"Careful, there’s a fluctuation in spiritual energy ahead," came the voice of his past-life remnant soul in his mind.

As soon as the words faded, the thinning mist ahead suddenly surged, spreading to envelop the area for miles around. In a moment, all the hopeful youths were swallowed by the fog.

Xu Xuan too found himself adrift, unable to find his bearings.

Then, from deep within the mist, a drifting, ethereal voice sounded: "Only those fated may enter my immortal sect."

Excitement surged through the crowd within the mist, and they rushed eagerly deeper into the haze.

Fated ones? Xu Xuan was taken aback, but paid it little mind. Having experienced immortal sect selection in his past life, he recognized the phenomenon: this mist was a magical illusion array, meant to bewilder the uninitiated.

This test was truly one of perception and will.

With a slight smile, Xu Xuan calmed his breathing into a strange rhythm. All distracting thoughts faded, his eyes growing tranquil and deep as still water. His mind was exceptionally clear and composed; aided by his advanced breathing technique, his senses sharpened as he carefully distinguished his surroundings, striding forward at a measured pace.

(First chapter complete; morning update. Please remember to vote!)