Chapter 2
Chapter 2: High-Grade Aptitude
In Bian Capital, at the Marquis of Pacifying the South Manor, a girl in a pale-green dress tugged at the sleeve of the tall, slender young man beside her.
She wore a snow-white mink cloak, her hair held up with nothing more ornate than a white-jade lotus hairpin. No pearls, no jewels—just quiet refinement. Her brows and eyes were bright and delicate, and when she smiled, it seemed as though even the winter chill softened.
“Brother Shao Jia,” Jiang Yun Jiang said, “the immortal sect is recruiting disciples. Anyone under 30 can go test their bones.”
Her eyes shone with eagerness. “Let’s hurry and call Brother Shao Jing too, and go try.”
The people of the Marquis of Pacifying the South Manor were known for striking looks, and Lu Shao Jia was no exception. He smiled at first—then, as if something sour rose in his mouth, the smile vanished cleanly.
“With something this good, you still think of Shao Jing,” he said. “If it were her…”
He cut off, expression darkening.
“Brother Shao Jia, don’t say that.” Jiang Yun Jiang’s brows knit, worry quick and convincing. “Shao Heng… she’s just young and ignorant.”
She drew in a breath, as though forcing herself to be brave. “You’ve driven her out of the manor for more than a month. That’s punishment enough. Let’s send people to find her and bring her back, and we won’t miss this rare chance to join the immortal sect.”
“Why bother worrying about her?” Lu Shao Jia waved his sleeve, pressing the matter down as if it were nothing but dust. He turned and ordered a servant, “Prepare the carriage.”
Jiang Yun Jiang’s lips parted, but she didn’t argue further. The worry in her eyes deepened, as if she truly couldn’t bear it.
At that moment, a boy in red came running, thick-browed and bright-eyed, laughter spilling out of him.
“Sister Yun Jiang!” Lu Shao Jing called. “Let’s hurry and test our aptitude. If we stand out and get chosen as disciples and become cultivators, that’s a heaven-sent blessing.”
Jiang Yun Jiang lifted a handkerchief and dabbed the thin sweat on his forehead, her voice soft.
“They say anyone can cultivate,” she said, “but when the immortal sect tests aptitude, most people are nothing more than a Clay Embryo. Above that, even Third Grade is divided into lower, middle, and upper.”
Her gaze flicked toward the distant direction of the city, where the crowd’s roar kept rising. “We’re extremely lucky this time. The ones coming to Bian Capital are the One Yuan Sect—a great sect ranked among the Upper Qian Thirteen Sects.”
A faint, restrained excitement sharpened her tone.
“But their requirements are especially harsh. It’s not like the ordinary sects in past years that took anyone with decent bones. Only if we test at Third Grade will we have a chance to be accepted by the One Yuan Sect.”
Lu Shao Jing’s grin widened. “Then we have to try.”
His voice bounced with confidence, as if the conclusion was already written.
“Besides, the sects coming this time aren’t only the One Yuan Sect. Sects are going to every province and commandery across Great Yan. Sister Yun Jiang, let’s go quickly. Even if we don’t get accepted, we can rush to a neighboring commandery and still have a chance to cultivate!”
The three exchanged a look. Understanding passed between them without words.
They hurried out, climbed into the carriage, and headed straight for the recruitment grounds.
The crowd was thick enough to press breath from lungs, but the Marquis of Pacifying the South title had lasted three generations, and the manor’s standing still carried weight. People yielded as the carriage passed. They arrived smoothly.
Lu Shao Jia lifted the curtain first, then offered his hand and helped Jiang Yun Jiang down.
Once the three of them were on the ground, they joined the orderly line waiting to be tested.
Even with so many bodies packed close, no one dared shout. Mist hid the many cultivators floating high in the sky, their presence heavy as a mountain even when unseen. Below, only a few young-looking disciples handled the work.
At the center of the grounds stood a massive snow-white jade pillar, square on all four sides. Anyone only needed to press a hand against it to have their aptitude measured.
The crowd split into four lines. The testing moved quickly. In about half an hour, 300 people were tested—and only one woman in plain clothes produced a result beyond the Clay Embryo.
“Yun Jiang!”
A boy’s delighted voice rose suddenly. He tried to lower it, but it still cut through the tense quiet.
The yellow-robed disciple maintaining order snapped his gaze over, brows drawing tight.
Hearing Qin Ji call her name, Jiang Yun Jiang lightly bit her lower lip and raised her gaze toward the refined young man. She gave him the smallest nod.
Qin Ji stiffened, apology flashing across his face as he lowered his head again.
His grandfather was a Second Grade high official. No title, but enough status to stand tall in Bian Capital.
The Qin Family had been close with the Marquis of Pacifying the South Manor for years. Qin Ji had even been engaged to the manor’s legitimate daughter—until, not long ago, that engagement had been broken.
Lu Shao Jia and Lu Shao Jing swept their eyes over him, wary, but neither spoke.
The line advanced in batches.
Jiang Yun Jiang watched the results and couldn’t help frowning. Nearly 1,200 people had been tested, and only two had shown even Lower Grade aptitude—and those would only be taken as outer sect disciples by the One Yuan Sect.
Her fingers tightened under her cloak.
But on the day I was born, rosy clouds rose over the courtyard.
Ancient records said anyone born with an omen was extraordinary.
With that thought, the tightness between Jiang Yun Jiang’s brows eased. That “extraordinary trait” had already brought her too many benefits for it to be false.
Soon, it was Lu Shao Jia’s turn.
He took a steadying breath and pressed his palm to the jade.
A needle-sharp force pricked into his skin. A drop or two of blood welled and seeped into the pillar.
The nearby disciples watched, their eyes brightening slightly.
On the snowy surface, blood threads spread and swirled, quickly forming a firework-like pattern that filled one corner.
“Lower Grade aptitude,” the disciple announced. “Fire-leaning among the five elements.”
Cultivators absorbed the five elemental spiritual energies between heaven and earth to deepen their cultivation, but each person’s bones and constitution differed. Few could balance all five. Understanding the root of one’s aptitude mattered—crucial for the path ahead.
Most testing tools could only show the grade. Only major sects could produce a treasure like this—what disciples called the Source-Appraisal Wall—able to trace the foundation.
“Wait to the side,” the yellow-robed young man said, his tone noticeably gentler now.
Lu Shao Jia nodded quickly, struggling to suppress his smile as heat crept into his face. He moved to the waiting area.
Behind him, Lu Shao Jing looked even more eager. He pressed his palm to the jade without hesitation.
A faint glow rose. Blue-green patterns climbed across the surface like living vines.
The disciple assigned to this line—Xiao Qiu—blinked, surprised.
“Lower Grade aptitude,” he announced, “wood among the five elements.”
His gaze flicked between the two brothers. “They look alike. Blood brothers. I didn’t expect both of them to have aptitude.”
Lu Shao Jing’s grin was bright, but gloom hid behind it—restless, dissatisfied. Anyone who dreamed himself a martial genius never wanted to be merely “lower.”
Then it was Jiang Yun Jiang’s turn.
She stepped forward, and in that moment, it seemed as if the noise of the crowd fell away. She took one slow breath and pressed her hand to the cold jade.
Blood threads spread—and then surged.
On the pillar’s surface, a snow-white tiger burst into being, covering almost the entire wall. Faint golden patterns shimmered along its body. Its eyes were fierce, as if it could swallow mountains and rivers whole.
“High-Grade Aptitude,” Xiao Qiu breathed, and the words came out different—shaken, almost reverent. “White Tiger True Embryo. Metal among the five elements.”
Lower Grade was already one in a hundred among ordinary people.
The great sects, with records spanning a thousand years, had measured it: even among those with aptitude, Mid Grade was still less than one in a thousand.
As for High-Grade Aptitude—it was a once-in-a-century rarity even in regions rich with spiritual energy.
Yet it had appeared here, in the Mortal Realm.
Xiao Qiu straightened, voice careful. “Please wait to the side.”
The White Tiger image lingered, fading slowly, as if reluctant to leave. Even as it dimmed, it dragged the attention of everyone present.
Shock. Confusion. Respect. Envy. Jealousy.
Under a hundred stares, Jiang Yun Jiang showed no trace of panic. Calmly, she nodded and stepped into the waiting line.
Then she lifted her gaze toward the clouds.
The sect elders were still hidden in mist, but even from the ground she could sense it—agitation, argument, the invisible clash of wills.
Jiang Yun Jiang lowered her head, and the corner of her lips lifted, just slightly.
Mortals chased gold and jewels.
Cultivators craved superior aptitude.
Being treated like the center of the world was intoxicating.
The testing continued. Jiang Yun Jiang’s gaze drifted across the crowd—and caught on a familiar figure that looked unfamiliar.
At that exact moment, their eyes met.
The luxurious, spoiled noble girl in Jiang Yun Jiang’s memory now had dirt smeared across her face. Her hair had clumped into greasy knots, carelessly gathered behind her head. Her clothes were torn in too many places, barely held together by yellowed strips of rag.
“Lu Shao Heng?”
Jiang Yun Jiang’s smile didn’t change. Only her eyes sharpened.
“Interesting.”