Zhou Huan and his two companions successfully managed to wrench their souls free from their physical bodies. Remarkably, neither of the three suffered any torment during the process. Generally speaking, the separation of the soul from the body during the throes of death is an excruciating ordeal; based on the author's own numerous near-death experiences, having danced on the edge of the grave many times, the sensation is truly agonizing.

To return to the matter at hand, after escaping their flesh, the trio ascended from the Scripture Pavilion, soaring past the Nine Heavens, traversing the boundless void of the Miro Nebula, until they reached the crossroads they had selected—a juncture made possible by the very talisman Zhou Huan had prepared in advance. Just as confusion began to settle upon them, the three talismans simultaneously flew out, guiding them toward the correct path.

“Master, those three talismans of yours really came in handy. Look where we’re headed!” Shi Bingyuan and Tian Xiong both pointed toward the territory of the Qing Dynasty below, their excitement palpable.

Zhou Huan chuckled softly. “This is the place where I resided in my former life. I have no idea what my former self looked like—perhaps just like me, or perhaps entirely different. Whatever the case, I won’t run into my past self this time. As long as it’s a destined opportunity, I believe we can navigate such matters. Let’s just focus on what we need to accomplish.”

“Yes, Master. Let’s attend to our business quickly so we can rush back soon. I hate the thought of those back home fretting over us and waiting day and night; it’s not right,” Shi Bingyuan, being the elder, considered matters with thoroughness.

Tian Xiong also felt the concern, but then he thought of his former master and turned back to Zhou Huan, “Master, what if I meet my previous master? He was a man who could foresee five hundred years into the past and five hundred years into the future.”

“Don’t worry. Given our relationship, he’ll know what’s happening without us saying a word. So, there’s no need for anxiety. My old friend knows how to handle things; he will certainly take care of this matter of Heavenly Secrets,” Zhou Huan expressed great confidence in his old acquaintance; after all, they had been the best of friends in a past life, occasionally engaging in spirited exchanges of insights.

As the three were chatting along, the vision of the Qing Dynasty suddenly vanished before their eyes. Instead, they were enveloped by absolute blackness.

“Master, what’s happening? Why has everything turned this way? We can’t see anything at all?” Shi Bingyuan and Tian Xiong were slightly panicked. This was their first time experiencing the soul separated from the body, and no one, not even Zhou Huan, could claim one hundred percent certainty of completing the task flawlessly.

“Don’t panic yet. Let’s see what happens next. Regardless, our souls are out now; there’s no turning back immediately!” Zhou Huan’s statement sounded like a death sentence to the other two, and their uncertainty deepened.

Suddenly, a brilliant light flashed before their eyes: a seven-colored halo shimmering on the horizon.

“Zhou Huan, you are next. This is your final chance. If you fail this time, you must return to the mortal realm to cultivate for two more lifetimes before you can come back!” The voice was booming, resonating with a sacred quality in the vast, empty illusionary space.

Zhou Huan followed the sound and saw a Daoist sitting beneath the seven-colored halo. The Daoist looked intensely familiar, yet Zhou Huan couldn't recall his name, but he distinctly heard the person call out his own name.

“Hey, are you calling me? Who might you be?” Zhou Huan casually inquired.

“Nonsense, who else would I be calling? Stop wasting our precious time here. You are the final challenger for this Ascension Assembly. Come up to the stage and demonstrate your Zhenqi (True Qi).” As the person on the platform spoke, images of numerous celestial beings gradually materialized before Zhou Huan’s eyes. This time, he recognized who was seated on the dais: it was the Grand Supreme Elder Lord (Taishang Laojun), the chief examiner for ascending to immortality. Every cultivator seeking to become an immortal had to pass his trial.

But the more Zhou Huan listened, the more confused he became. He was supposed to be returning to the Qing Dynasty; why had he suddenly ended up taking an exam in the Heavenly Realm? What was going on?

“Laojun, why have I been brought here?” Zhou Huan couldn't help but ask.

Laojun smiled faintly. “Don’t you know how you got here? You wanted to return to the Qing Dynasty; where does that leave your former self? Since you are a soul, and your former physical incarnation is still cultivating, why not take the Immortal Trial for him? If you pass, you pass. When you return to your former body, you do what you must do. That is your destined entanglement, which I, Laojun, do not interfere with. My jurisdiction begins now: you must immediately display your Zhenqi. Whether you pass or fail depends entirely on this single moment.”

Zhou Huan pondered this, unable to make sense of the situation. He then asked Laojun, “Dear Grandfather Jun, what’s the point of taking this test?”

“What’s the point?” Laojun burst into loud laughter. “Look at the three of you: being able to separate soul from body—that ability is usually reserved for those who have achieved immortality or Buddhahood. You three haven't achieved anything, yet you want to play transmigration games with your souls. Do you think you can just go back? Unless you pass my test, you won't gain the necessary power to return to reality. Understand?”

Hearing this, the three of them were instantly struck dumb: “Laojun, you aren’t joking with us, are you?”

“If you don’t believe me, turn around and try.”

The three immediately believed Laojun’s words. Looking behind them for the first time, they saw a bottomless abyss stretching thousands of feet down, filled with the various levels of Hell. Their actual world, the reality they knew, was now impossibly distant. Furthermore, a strange, powerful force was shoving the three of them forward, and despite their efforts, they could not resist. A cold sweat instantly broke out across all three.

“Master, this is bad. Laojun is telling the truth. It seems we really can’t go back! What are we going to do?” Shi Bingyuan sounded deeply worried.

Tian Xiong interjected at this point. “There is no alternative. We must cultivate until we achieve immortal bodies; only then can we safely return to reality. Otherwise, we’ll just end up as people from ancient times.”

Zhou Huan nodded in agreement. “Let’s go, the three of us will try in rotation to see who qualifies to return.” Saying this, he stepped onto the examination dais first, sat cross-legged with hands in the Ding mudra, closed his eyes slightly, and began circulating the Zhenqi within him. After circulating it about ten times, Zhou Huan felt his Zhenqi had reached its limit. He slightly opened his eyes and asked Laojun, “Am I worthy?”

“Worthy of a fart! With this weak trickle of Zhenqi, you expect to return to the Qing Dynasty? I think you three aren’t going back after all. Get down! Go back for re-forging!” As he spoke, Laojun flipped his large hand, knocking Zhou Huan, Shi Bingyuan, and Tian Xiong back down towards the Qing lands. As they landed on the ground, the voice of Laojun echoed in each of their ears.

“Listen closely. The Immortal Selection Assembly is held once every year. This time, I grant you one year. You may participate in the Immortal Trial again without application. If you still fail, the next opportunity will be in three years, and so on. Each subsequent failure will add three more years to the wait time.” Laojun’s voice gradually faded away.

Zhou Huan blinked his eyes open hazily and found himself sitting on the heated brick bed (kang) inside a room. However, his two disciples were nowhere to be seen. This time, Zhou Huan was utterly thrown into disarray. His disciples were missing, and in the Qing Dynasty, he didn't recognize a soul. How could he possibly find two living people?

“Zhou Huan, Master!”

Just as Zhou Huan was agonizing over the situation, he heard people shouting his name loudly from outside the house. Hearing the commotion from Tian Xiong and Shi Bingyuan, Zhou Huan immediately rushed out of the room, flung open the courtyard gate, and saw the two figures standing there exactly as he expected.

“Why did you run outside?” Zhou Huan asked, his tone edged with anxiety and palpable worry for his disciples.

When a master worries for his disciples, the disciples naturally worry for the master. They asked concernedly, “Master, are you alright? Where have we returned to? Why are you the only household living here?”

“It’s fine, one house is enough. We’re back to the time when I was cultivating Qi. At this critical juncture, I estimate my Spirit Eyes are gone, and my abilities are super weak.” Zhou Huan casually picked up a talisman, flicked it, and the talisman floated down like a piece of paper, clearly showing his lack of strength.

The two disciples were stunned. If their Master was in this state, they likely weren't doing much better. They each pulled out their own talismans. Although the talismans were imprinted in their minds, they simply could not manifest their shapes. This realization caused the master and his two disciples to finally break down in utter despair.