"I don't know how to choose, Mother. Why don't you pick for me?"
A hint of cunning flickered across the young woman's fair, exquisite face as she spoke in a playfully pleading tone.
At that moment.
On the round mirror condensed from golden light, there were dozens of panels. Inside each one was a man.
Some sat ramrod straight, unmoving, but their faces were flushed, as if they were desperately holding something back.
Others were completely unrestrained, stripping off their clothes and performing all manner of indecent acts toward the empty air, their shamelessness on full display.
Still others were terrified, fleeing in panic...
The elegant woman smiled. "This concerns the rest of your life, my dear. How could I possibly make such a choice for you?"
The young woman's lovely eyes darted about before she gave a detached smile. "Since when have any of you ever let me truly make my own decisions? The family has decreed a Sword Fighting Conference, so I will simply marry the final victor. For better or worse, it must be fate. I will have no regrets."
The elegant woman sighed, saying no more.
...
Fang Cheng had several dreams.
In the first dream, he was a dashing Prince, seated in a magnificent palace. He was surrounded by beautiful women, with fine wine and delicacies laid out before him. The air was filled with songs and laughter, and graceful dancers swayed elegantly.
The beauties at his side were all soft-spoken and delicate, yielding to the slightest touch. They tempted him relentlessly, doing everything in their power to arouse him, each one scrambling to offer her body to him.
Strangely, he remained perfectly lucid within the dream.
Light flowed from the Golden Talisman in his sea of consciousness, keeping his spirit calm and cool, completely unaffected by the dream's temptations.
He quickly realized this was a trial from the Illusion Heart Hall. And so, wine cup in hand, he calmly enjoyed the performance, paying no mind to the beauties flocking around him.
Soon, the palace and the women all vanished.
He plummeted into darkness.
The sensation of landing was incredibly real. When he reached out to touch the ground, a sharp pain shot through his hand.
He cast a spell, conjuring a fireball to light his surroundings. Looking around, he saw foot-long centipedes everywhere!
A dense, writhing mass of centipedes surged forward and overwhelmed him. Instantly, countless fangs sank into his flesh, and venom flooded his body.
Fang Cheng knew this was the second dream. He focused his will, sat cross-legged, and endured the gnawing of innumerable centipedes...
After what felt like an eternity, the third dream began.
With his mind as clear as a mirror, Fang Cheng passed through each trial unharmed.
At last, he calmly awoke.
At some point, he had walked to the back of the great hall. Before him now were stairs leading to the floor above.
A young woman in a pale yellow dress stood guard at the foot of the stairs. She smiled and said, "Sir, please go upstairs to rest for a bit. The sword fighting won't begin for a while."
Fang Cheng nodded. He glanced back and saw an ancient bronze mirror hanging in the hall. Numerous Cultivators stood in the center of the hall with their eyes shut, as motionless as puppets.
'His heart skipped a beat. 'If someone activated this mirror during a battle and plunged their opponent into an illusion, how would one possibly counter it?''
He ascended the stairs slowly. This floor was furnished with many tables and chairs, and a dozen or so people were already seated, gazing leisurely out the window at the rolling sea of clouds and admiring the beauty of Cangwu Mountain.
"Huh?"
A soft gasp of surprise sounded out.
Fang Cheng looked up to see the same lavishly dressed man from before staring at him in astonishment.
Their eyes met, and a look of mutual surprise passed between them.
A smile touched the corners of the man's mouth. "Interesting."
Fang Cheng gave a faint smile and ignored him, finding an empty table and sitting down by himself.
The lavishly dressed man's table was the most crowded. The group was chatting and laughing, acting as if they were on a pleasant outing, seemingly unconcerned with the outcome of the Sword Fighting Conference.
"Brother Zhou, isn't that the fellow you were mocking earlier? I can't believe he made it to the second floor. Be careful he doesn't beat you and throw your words back in your face during the fights!"
A companion of the lavishly dressed man teased him.
Zhou Huaijin smiled faintly and said with arrogance, "If he has the guts to challenge me, I'll be happy to let him taste the might of my Zhou Family's Sword Technique."
As they were talking, another person came up the stairs.
This man appeared to be about twenty. He was strikingly handsome and wore wide-sleeved robes that were even more magnificent than those of Zhou Huaijin's group.
The moment he appeared, Zhou Huaijin and his companions fell silent. They all rose to their feet and bowed in greeting. "Brother Dong!"
Fang Cheng also glanced at the newcomer with curiosity. The man radiated confidence, and though his expression was composed, it held an undercurrent of arrogance.
This man also possessed a Sixth-Layer Sensing Cultivation, but his aura was profound and steady. He had clearly practiced a superior Cultivation Technique.
'The Yinluo Sect has four great vassal families: Feng, Ye, Dong, and Wang. This man must be from the Dong Family.'
'In the face of a behemoth like the Dong Family, the smaller families had to be a bit sycophantic.'
The Cultivator from the Dong Family looked at Zhou Huaijin and the others and said slowly, "So you've all arrived."
Zhou Huaijin beamed and stepped forward. "Brother Dong, please, take the seat of honor. Everyone knows the Ye Family held this Sword Fighting Conference for you. We're just here for the spectacle and to show our faces, so our elders know we haven't been slacking in our Cultivation."
The Dong Cultivator nodded. "It is good to come and broaden your horizons. The Ye Family has prepared many medicinal pills and Talismans. Even those who are defeated will receive a gift."
Only after he had walked to the head seat and sat down did Zhou Huaijin and the others take their own seats with a smile.
"I heard a certain Servant Disciple has been boasting that he'll challenge Brother Dong. Who could possibly have such nerve?" someone asked.
The Dong Cultivator snorted. "Just a Spirit Servant who used to belong to my Dong Family. He had a stroke of luck and now thinks he can defy the heavens and change his fate."
"You needn't worry yourself, Brother Dong. If he wants to challenge you, he'll have to get past us first!" the others chimed in, eager to curry favor.
...
Fang Cheng had no interest in listening to the idle chatter of these scions. He turned to gaze out the window at the rolling sea of clouds, letting his thoughts wander.
More people trickled up the stairs.
For some reason, one of the newcomers took a fancy to Fang Cheng's table and walked right over to sit down.
"Hello there! I'm Dongfang Xiong. What's your name, brother?"
The newcomer was a boy of sixteen or seventeen who still had a youthful air about him. His clothes were simple but neat and clean.
"Fang Cheng."
Fang Cheng gave the boy a curious glance. He seemed to look at everything with an inquisitive energy, like a young Ranger just setting out to see the world.
"You're also named Fang?!" The boy's face lit up in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. "My senior sister's surname is Fang, too!"
Fang Cheng: "..."
The boy chuckled, pulling two large, flat cakes from a storage pouch. He offered one to Fang Cheng. "Brother Fang, these are honey cakes my senior sister made. Try one, they're super sweet!"
Seeing the sincerity in the boy's eyes, Fang Cheng accepted the cake and said, "Thank you."
This boy, like himself, was at the Fourth Layer of Sensing. It seemed that on the entire second floor, the two of them were the only ones at that level.
'No wonder the boy had sidled up to him...'
The world was a treacherous place. Fang Cheng didn't eat the cake.
The boy, however, couldn't help but urge him a few more times, clearly desperate for Fang Cheng to experience his senior sister's handiwork.
The boy's eagerness to show off was written all over his face.