The road to the Xu Empire's capital was a ribbon of stone cutting through mountain fog and endless forests. Mist pooled like breath along the slopes, while the distant clang of forges echoed from unseen valleys. Merchants, soldiers, and wandering cultivators traveled the same road, drawn by one thing—the Heavenly Selection.
For the first time in a hundred years, the empire had opened its gates to all young cultivators under the heavens. Age fifteen to twenty-five, no sect allegiance required. The reason? Rumors whispered that an Elder from the Outer Realms—a being whose cultivation had long surpassed the mortal boundary—was seeking disciples.
To be chosen was to ascend beyond the heavens themselves.
And for Lin Xuan, Yu Ling, and the quiet boy trailing them, it was a chance not just for survival—but to vanish in plain sight.
They had traveled for nine days without rest, avoiding sect patrols and sealing their Qi to hide their identities. Yu Ling's robe, once a vibrant azure, had been replaced with the plain travel garb of a merchant's daughter. Lin Xuan wore a coarse cloak, his once-straight posture softened into the slouch of a bodyguard.
Only their eyes betrayed them—hers sharp and alert, his quietly burning with something deeper than exhaustion.
"Stop here," Yu Ling said softly as they reached a stone waystation built beside a mountain spring. "There's a gathering ahead—too many cultivators for comfort."
Lin Xuan nodded, scanning the forested path ahead. "You think the Crimson Sect scouts will be there?"
"Maybe. But it's not just them. Every sect in the continent wants to show off their disciples. Some came with banners and escorts. Others…" Her voice lowered, wary. "Others came to hunt."
The boy following them, a disciple of the Hidden Valley named Chen Mu, shifted uneasily. "Master Shu's sacrifice won't mean anything if they catch us," he murmured.
Lin Xuan's jaw tightened at that name.
The old sect master's final words still echoed in his mind—Go, or the spirits of my disciples will never rest.
He had wanted to stay, to fight. But now all he could do was live—and remember.
They entered the waystation quietly, blending among the crowd of travelers. The air buzzed with chatter—stories of the Heavenly Selection spreading like wildfire.
A broad-shouldered youth in black armor was boasting loudly at the next table.
"I heard the Empire's envoy himself will appear at the gates! They say he once killed a Nascent Soul cultivator with one hand!"
Another snorted. "Lies. The envoy's just a glorified servant. What matters is the Elder—some say he comes from the Realm Beyond Stars! Do you even know what that means?"
A silence fell around him as the others exchanged uneasy glances. Beyond Stars… that was a term whispered only in legends.
Lin Xuan's gaze flicked toward Yu Ling. She didn't meet his eyes, but her fingers paused mid-motion on her teacup.
She knew something.
Before he could ask, the door to the waystation opened.
The sound of boots striking stone drew every gaze.
A group of five entered—each wearing robes marked with a golden flame. The crowd parted instinctively.
The Blazing Sun Sect.
The leading youth, tall and elegant with a jade crown in his hair, surveyed the room with calm arrogance. His cultivation was restrained, but the faint ripple of pressure beneath his steps revealed the strength of his core.
"Yan Zixian…" Yu Ling murmured under her breath.
Lin Xuan glanced at her. "You know him?"
"He's the Blazing Sun Sect's prodigy. Said to have touched the threshold of Core Formation before twenty."
"And he's coming to the Selection?"
Her lips curved faintly. "Even dragons seek higher heavens."
Yan Zixian's gaze swept the room—and paused.
For a moment, Lin Xuan thought it was on him. But then the man's eyes shifted slightly to Yu Ling. Something sharp flickered in that look—recognition, perhaps, or curiosity.
Yu Ling lowered her head immediately, the faintest tension in her shoulders.
Yan Zixian smiled. "My apologies," he said to the innkeeper. "We'll need the upstairs hall. Clear it for us."
His tone was polite, but the innkeeper bowed until sweat beaded his brow. Within moments, the crowd shuffled aside, giving the sect members full space.
But Lin Xuan could still feel that gaze lingering like a blade at his back.
Later, when the hall grew quiet, Yu Ling whispered, "We leave before dawn."
He nodded. But before they could rise, a new voice cut through the murmur of the crowd.
"Leaving so soon? How ungrateful."
The words came from the staircase.
A youth in crimson robes leaned against the railing, smiling lazily. A sigil shaped like a coiled serpent glimmered faintly at his throat.
Yu Ling's eyes narrowed. "Blood Serpent Sect."
The youth laughed. "No need to glare. I'm not here for your heads. Not yet." His gaze slid toward Lin Xuan. "Though I must say… the Empire's wanted list grows longer by the day. A strange boy with eyes like molten gold. A girl once seen flying on a sword of azure. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
A cold silence fell over the room.
Lin Xuan's grip tightened under the table.
The Blood Serpent cultivator continued, tone mocking. "Don't worry. I'm not foolish enough to act here. The Empire forbids bloodshed on the Selection road. But once we reach the capital…"
His smile widened. "Accidents happen."
Then he turned and walked out, crimson robes flickering like firelight in the wind.
Ling exhaled slowly. "They know."
Lin Xuan's gaze was hard. "Then hiding is no longer enough."
Chen Mu's voice trembled. "What will we do?"
"We reach the capital before them," Lin Xuan said, his tone colder than he realized. "Once the competition begins, even the great sects won't dare act openly."
Yu Ling's eyes met his for a heartbeat. For the first time, there was no distance between them—just unspoken resolve.
"Then we move at dawn," she said.
The following days were a blur of motion—mountain paths, shifting skies, and whispers carried by every breeze. More and more young cultivators joined the flow toward the capital, forming caravans that gleamed with spirit energy.
Some were proud disciples of the great sects. Others were rogues, wanderers, and exiles. Each sought a sliver of immortality in the coming trial.
And among them, Lin Xuan and Yu Ling walked quietly, hidden in plain sight.
At night, when they camped by the riverside, the air would hum with distant laughter and talk.
"They say the Elder himself can peer into your soul," someone said by the fire. "He chooses not based on power—but destiny."
"Destiny, hah! Destiny belongs to those with spirit stones and sect backings," another snorted.
Lin Xuan listened in silence, eyes on the stars.
Destiny.
He didn't believe in it once. But ever since the jade fragment, the sect massacres, and Yu Ling's eyes watching him in that endless forest… he wasn't sure anymore.
The fog began to thin.
Yan Zixian glanced back once, his gaze brushing over Lin Xuan and Yu Ling before he turned away.
"Remember that name," Yu Ling murmured after a long silence. "He's not one to cross lightly."
Lin Xuan nodded—but his mind was elsewhere.
That fog… it hadn't been natural.
And as the last torch disappeared over the horizon, the faint echo of laughter whispered through the mist.
That night, Lin Xuan couldn't sleep.
He sat apart from the others, eyes fixed on the sky. The stars shimmered faintly, as though hidden behind invisible veils.
Yu Ling approached quietly, her cloak drawn tight. "You sense it too?"
He nodded. "We're being watched."
"By who?"
He exhaled. "Not the Crimson Sect. Something older."
The ground beneath them pulsed faintly—like a heartbeat.
And then, from the darkness of the marsh, a pair of crimson eyes flickered open.