Fang Xi did not sleep.
The moment his internal cycle reached a stable rhythm, he began threading Qi toward his fifth meridian. It was delicate work. His damaged forearm throbbed with each pulse, but the pain kept him focused.
"If I can open the fifth thread before the final trial, I'll widen the gap."
"Not through brute force… but efficiency."
He exhaled slowly. The Qi coiled, compressed — then pressed inward.
A faint crackle sounded in his chest, like dry leaves breaking underfoot.
The fifth thread had begun to open.
Not fully. Not yet.
But the path was there.
A sharp knock ended the moment.
"Number Eleven. To the hall."
He rose in one motion, cold robes rustling, and stepped out into the frost.
Inside the Mirror Hall, the sixteen remaining disciples stood in a semicircle. The black-robed elder waited in the same spot, though today, he was flanked by two masked stewards and a senior disciple bearing a silver blade.
The elder's voice echoed coldly.
"The second trial is one of mind, group, and blood."
He gestured to a large basin now at the arena's center. In it: twelve jade tiles, each etched with a number and a faint rune.
"Each of you will draw a tile. You will form teams of four. Your group must survive a journey across the Fractured Dome. You will not be watched. But you will be judged."
"So… no spectators. But the results are known?"
"They want to see who survives… and how."
The elder's smile did not reach his eyes.
"Only three teams may succeed. The rest… may never be found."
Fang Xi stepped forward. Drew tile 7.
Seconds later, the girl with short black hair — the one from the night before — stepped forward too.
Tile 7.
She looked at him once. This time, she didn't speak.
Then a lanky boy with ink-stained fingers and a nervous smile drew the same number.
Last came a boulder of a man — short, wide, and scarred. His tile burned faintly in his palm: 7.
The elder nodded once.
"Group 7. Exit north. Your trial begins… now."
The Fractured Dome
They walked into mist.
The dome beyond the Mirror Hall was larger than expected — a massive artificial landscape covered in ruins, cliffs, and icy forests.
As the stone door closed behind them, the ground trembled faintly.
Then silence.
The girl spoke first.
"Liu Yimei. I use daggers. Fast."
The tall boy raised his hand. "Uh… Jiang Ping. I studied traps. I'm good with… puzzles?"
The short boulder-man grunted. "Tie Ba."
All eyes turned to Fang Xi.
"Fang," he said simply.
No one asked more.
"Good. Let them fill in the blanks themselves."
They moved in silence through narrow stone corridors. At a fork, Jiang Ping paused.
"Both paths lead northeast. One smells like mold, the other like… fire."
Liu Yimei crouched, examining the floor. "Prints in both. But fewer going left."
"A trap. Or less competition."
Fang Xi spoke: "Left. But slow. I'll take front."
He led without looking back.
And as they moved, he activated Mirror Vein Insight — not on enemies.
On his teammates.
Liu Yimei's flow was erratic. Not poorly trained — chaotic on purpose. Her strikes would be hard to predict.
Jiang Ping's Qi ran shallow, but wide — more suited for traps and support.
Tie Ba's was… strange. Compressed. Heavy. A body cultivator, no doubt. But one whose core was slightly fractured.
"Unstable."
"He's a risk."
Suddenly — noise.
A clash of metal. Screams. Ahead, another team was under attack — a hidden construct beast, serpent-shaped, had lunged from a wall.
The group of four was down to three — two now bleeding.
Fang Xi saw opportunity.
He knelt. Whispered:
"Backtrack ten paces. Circle wide. Let them bleed out. We'll take their tokens once it's done."
Jiang Ping hesitated.
Liu Yimei nodded.
Tie Ba… waited.
And then they vanished into the mist, leaving screams behind.
They reached a ruined tower by nightfall. The sky above the dome glowed faintly blue, like frozen starlight.
They camped in silence.
Fang Xi sat apart.
He inhaled, gathered his Qi slowly, and forced the fifth thread open.
Pain seared his chest — but he did not cry out.
He gritted his teeth, controlled his breath, and let the energy lock into place.
"Five."
"Only four left to complete Qi Gathering Realm."
In the shadows behind the tower, Liu Yimei watched him.
Her fingers toyed with a silver needle.
She smiled faintly.
And said nothing.