Chapter 9: Detection

As time passed.

The line, which had originally seemed endless, was now clearly countable. Through testing, more and more youths were found to be qualified, totaling fifteen boys.

Cheng Buzheng made a rough mental estimate of the time; another hour remained until the end, which would be around sunset.

From the morning until the end at sunset, a full six hours had passed.

Suddenly.

A strange sound echoed from among the crowd of youths who had passed the test.

"Gurgle..."

A sturdy youth, who had been enduring hunger for a long time, showed a look of shame on his face. Although he didn't say anything, his stomach ungratefully expressed its need for food.

Hearing this.

The youths standing beside the immortal looked at one another, and instantly, it was as if they had reached some invisible pact.

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

"Gurgle..."

Cheng Buzheng's stomach also voiced its opinion. As if sharing a tacit understanding, they all looked toward the immortal on the side.

Suddenly.

That strange sound became like a symphony.

The young immortal was momentarily stunned by the strange noise, but then, as if realizing something, he smiled slightly.

"I forgot that you are still mortals and need to eat every day. Here is one 'Bigu Pill' per person; it will be enough to sustain you for a month without food!"

As he spoke, he reached for a small pouch at his waist, held a long-necked porcelain bottle in his hand, poured fifteen spiritual pills into his palm, and then flicked his hand upward.

The fifteen spiritual pills seemed to have eyes of their own, hovering in front of each youth—exactly one pill per person, no more, no less.

"We thank the Immortal!"

The young immortal waved his hand and said

"No need for that. From now on, we are fellow disciples, and you are all my junior brothers. You may simply call me 'Senior Brother Huang'!"

"Immortal" was a term used by mortals; those of their kind were cultivators whose goal was to achieve immortality.

"Take a rest; I must continue the testing on my end!"

"Thank you... Senior Brother Huang!"

The youths eagerly grabbed the spiritual pills floating before them and swallowed them.

Suppressing his curiosity, Cheng Buzheng also grabbed the pill floating in front of him. This was the first time he had ever seen such a thing. He did not rush to swallow it but instead examined it closely.

He knew this was certainly a low-grade spiritual pill, but it was still something a mortal could not possess.

The pill was unremarkable in appearance, presenting a dark, black color with a faint, ghostly glow emanating from its surface, which was a testament to the miraculous methods of the immortals.

At that moment, his stomach protested again.

"Gurgle..."

Cheng Buzheng did not delay further and swallowed the first spiritual pill of his life. The Bigu Pill melted instantly upon entering his mouth, like a warm current that warmed his entire stomach and intestines.

In an instant, he no longer felt even a trace of hunger.

The medicinal pills of cultivators were indeed miraculous, with extremely effective results.

As the sun set, more than half an hour passed in the blink of an eye. Only a few scattered groups remained in the square, with an occasional youth running toward them from outside in a hurry.

The testing speed was fast; after two quarters of an hour, no more youths entered the square.

At this time, the old man dressed in black robes, who had sat cross-legged in the center and had not uttered a single word from beginning to end, opened his eyes and scanned the youths who had passed the test.

The old man appeared to possess an immortal's temperament, but when his gaze fell upon Cheng Buzheng, the boy's hair stood on end. He felt as if he were being stared down by a prehistoric beast; if he hadn't known that this old man was on his side, he would likely have run as far away as possible.

The black-robed old man's gaze left him, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, thinking to himself, *"Is this what a cultivator is like? I can barely endure a single glance!"*

The black-robed old man said hoarsely, "How many were recruited this time?"

"Reporting to Martial Uncle Ding, Ping'an County has recruited fourteen with four spiritual roots and two with three spiritual roots, totaling sixteen people," Senior Brother Huang replied respectfully.

"Not bad. To recruit so many seedlings this year has exceeded my expectations. Previously, it was only three or five, and unfortunately, not even one had dual spiritual roots!"

Martial Uncle Ding looked at the youths with a face full of regret.

"You have one hour to go back and say your goodbyes to your families. We will depart immediately in one hour. Those who do not need to say goodbye shall wait here!"

As soon as he finished speaking.

A delicate-looking youth bowed respectfully and said

"Martial Uncle, I will go out to say goodbye to my parents!"

Martial Uncle Ding gave the youth a casual glance and said indifferently

"It is too early to call me Martial Uncle. Call me that after you have officially joined the sect!"

Hearing this, the delicate youth was stunned, but quickly reacted and said

"Yes, Senior. I shall take my leave!"

Martial Uncle Ding closed his eyes again, ignoring the youth who had just passed the test.

Before long, the seventeen youths had mostly left one after another. Before leaving, they all respectfully bowed to the seated, meditating Martial Uncle Ding before withdrawing.

Cheng Buzheng did not leave. If an accident were to happen at this moment, wouldn't he lose a massive opportunity? Besides, his family was not in the county; the clothes he left in the inn were worthless, but the pigments he had made from medicinal herbs were quite precious to discard.

However, it wasn't enough to make him leave at this critical moment to retrieve three porcelain pigment bottles.

He believed the immortals possessed enough deterrence to prevent powerful families from acting rashly. Although the possibility of an accident was small, it was better to be safe.

While Cheng Buzheng was secretly regretting the loss of those pigment bottles, he noticed that only one youth, dressed in coarse linen clothes, had not left, just like him.

This youth was quite sturdy with a somewhat honest face. He possessed four spiritual roots; was it because his family was not in the county, or was he simply a cautious person?

There were only two youths with three spiritual roots: one was himself, and the other was the delicate youth who had spoken first.

He understood the principle that rarity dictates value; three spiritual roots should be superior to four.

The concept of spiritual root aptitude was identical to the setting in the popular web novel from his previous life, *A Will Eternal* (or *Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality*), but he wondered if there would be any differences later on.

A flurry of thoughts continuously flashed through his mind.

More than half an hour later, all the youths returned to the square one after another. They didn't dare wait until the very last moment to arrive.

The wrath of a Martial Uncle was not something they, as newcomers, could endure.

The seated, meditating Martial Uncle Ding suddenly opened his eyes the moment all the youths had arrived, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.

Martial Uncle Ding stood up, looked at the youths, and said expressionlessly, "Since everyone is here, let us depart!"

As soon as he finished speaking.

Martial Uncle Ding brushed his hand over the small pouch at his waist, and a palm-sized jade boat appeared in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the jade boat expanded as it met the wind.

In the blink of an eye, a giant jade boat over a hundred feet long floated quietly in the air above the square.

(End of Chapter)