Stepping into the Seven Treasure Starveil—
The instant his foot fell, heaven and earth changed.
Li Zhexian lifted his head.
Above him stretched a dome of stars—
distant as the horizon, yet close enough to touch.
Gems glimmered like constellations, set into the vault above, their shifting radiance emanating waves of vast, boundless spiritual power.
"What a wondrous place…"
Then, his footing suddenly gave way.
Startled, Li Zhexian looked down—
There was no ground at all beneath him.
Only a river of flowing starlight—
a galaxy formed from grains of glazed sand.
Each speck was crystalline,
casting refracted colors as it drifted in a ceaseless current.
Hum—
Hum—
The starlit dome and the flowing river beneath his feet began to spin faster and faster.
In the blink of an eye—
Thousands of treasures of every form—swords, spears, halberds, ancient cauldrons, jeweled staves, rare herbs, and blossoms—
whirled like meteors through the starry current, merging into a single, roaring torrent of brilliance.
"Among these thousands of phantom treasures…"
"One must find seven true ones."
"So this is what they call 'the Treasure Trial'?"
A flicker of amusement crossed Li Zhexian's eyes.
"Interesting."
Half an hour later—
That trace of amusement had completely vanished from his face.
What seemed simple at first was, in truth, a trial of torment.
The starry sands beneath his feet responded sharply to fluctuations in spiritual power.
The instant his concentration wavered, the current surged violently.
Every step forward required him to release a steady flow of spiritual power to solidify the sands beneath his feet.
Without it, he would immediately sink, dragged into the current—
and the backlash of spiritual strain would split his head apart in agony.
Worse still—
The countless phantom treasures surging through the starstream all radiated confusing, beguiling waves of spiritual allure.
Their false auras were nearly indistinguishable from the true seven treasures.
To tell truth from illusion within this endless mirage was like searching for a single drop of water in the ocean.
"No wonder those disciples staggered out pale as paper, needing support to walk…"
Li Zhexian's face had gone deathly white. Fine beads of sweat gathered on his brow.
He split a thread of focus to lock down the shifting sands beneath his feet, stabilizing each step.
His sharp eyes—like a hawk's—tracked the river of treasures rushing overhead, never daring to blink even as sweat stung his vision.
At the same time, his mind fought back the incessant waves of spiritual temptation.
Finally—
Amid the shimmering flood of light,
Li Zhexian fixed upon a single jade bottle.
"One foot tall, three inches wide…"
Twin glass dragons coiled at its neck, thirty-eight channels carved along its body, twelve colored inscriptions…"
"That's the one!"
Light flared in his eyes. He surged upward with sudden force.
The solidified sands beneath his feet shattered with a thunderous crack as his figure shot skyward—
five fingers outstretched, clamping down on the jade bottle.
But then—
Boom—!!!
The bottle shattered in his grasp, exploding into a storm of chaotic spiritual energy.
It struck him head-on like a tidal wave.
Li Zhexian's body spun violently in midair, thrown back dozens of meters before he barely managed to steady himself.
His hands clutched his head—pain like burning needles stabbing through his head, his vision dimmed, and the starry world itself began to warp and twist.
"The real bottle… has a tiny chip at its rim…"
"What a marvelous creation, this Seven Treasure Starveil…"
Instead of dismay,
a fierce gleam of battlelust ignited on his pale, handsome face.
—
Outside the Starveil.
An hour had passed.
The sun hung high, gilding the forests in gold.
News of Li Zhexian's entry into the Seven Treasure Starveil had spread throughout the sect.
No one left.
More disciples arrived by the minute.
Who wouldn't want to witness with their own eyes—
the man the Heaven Dou Empire called Sword Wine?
Was he truly as brilliant as the legends claimed?
Dozens of gazes—curious, skeptical, and reverent alike—
were fixed upon the mist-veiled entrance.
The pride of the continent's foremost auxiliary sect still lingered deep in their hearts—
But with Sect Master Ning Fengzhi and the two Grand Elders, Sword and Bone, standing here,
none dared to whisper or complain aloud.
"It's been an hour already!"
"Why hasn't Brother Zhexian come out yet?"
Ning Rongrong's delicate face was tight with anxiety, rising on tiptoe again and again to peer at the entrance.
Ning Fengzhi's brows drew together.
"Rongrong, how long did you last your first time inside? How many Treasures did you claim?"
"I lasted just one incense stick of time… and only managed to claim two."
At her answer, Ning Fengzhi's frown deepened.
That very performance had stood unbeaten in the sect for over a century—for a first entry into the Starveil.
"This is…"
Gu Rong's bristly brows knitted together as he exchanged a look with Ning Fengzhi.
Then both turned toward Chen Xin.
Seeing the Sword Douluo's calm expression,
their unease subsided somewhat.
Ning Fengzhi gently comforted his daughter.
"Be at ease."
"Zhexian is no ordinary youth."
"All we can do now is wait."
Another half-hour crept by.
Even the gathered disciples began to stir restlessly.
At last—
The mist-like veil at the entrance rippled—
as though brushed by a passing breeze.
Then—
A slender, trembling hand reached out from within, clutching the edge of the veil.
Heavy, dragging footsteps followed from inside.
Under the gaze of a hundred frozen eyes,
a young man slowly stepped through the veil.
His once-flawless white robes were drenched in sweat, clinging to his frame.
His face was pale as paper, his figure unsteady — staggering with every few steps.
"Brother Zhexian!"
Ning Rongrong darted forward in alarm, both hands outstretched to support him.
But Li Zhixian drew a ragged breath and, almost imperceptibly, shifted his arm aside — refusing her help.
"Brother Zhexian…"
Her outstretched hand froze midair, sorrow clouding her bright eyes.
"I… am fine."
That sight made Ning Fengzhi's heart ache with a quiet bitterness.
Yet at this moment, none could spare a thought for such things —
only burning, all-consuming curiosity filled the air.
Ning Fengzhi drew a deep breath and asked—
"Zhexian, you… how many Treasures did you claim?"
Zheng—!
A scarlet aura of sword qi flared beside Li Zhixian, not sharp or dazzling now, but dense and solid — a pillar of strength that he leaned upon for support.
Before the silent, breathless assembly,
his trembling hand rose slowly… painfully…
Five fingers uncurled.
In that instant—
a surge of radiant treasure light burst from his palm!
A jade bottle.
A spirit stone.
A sacred tome.
A scepter.
"F—Four Treasures?!"
"Senior Zhexian claimed four on his first entry?!"
"Monstrous! He's an absolute monster!"
Gasps and exclamations crashed like waves across the crowd.
Even Ning Fengzhi, Chen Xin, and Gu Rong could not hide the astonishment in their eyes.
Ning Rongrong bit her lip tightly, her gaze fixed on the white-robed figure leaning against his sword, admiration shining through her eyes.
Li Zhexian's breathing steadied somewhat.
Just as the crowd was still reeling from the sight of four Treasures—
The hand resting against his sword qu slowly lifted once more—
inch by inch, heavy as if weighed by mountains.
In his palm—
A fresh burst of treasure light blazed forth, splitting the air.
A jewel-branched spirit tree unfurled in his hand, radiant and graceful.
"By chance…"
Li Zhexian's hoarse voice carried clearly through the hushed courtyard.
"On my way out…"
"I happened to pick up one more."