Chapter Two: Ning Zhuo

Ning Family Estate.

Today was the grand day when the Ning Family would announce the examination results.

Ning Ze and his wife Wang Lan had been seated in the central hall since early morning, awaiting the outcome of the important examination for the two younger members of their household.

From birth, every child of the Ning family underwent an annual assessment of their spiritual aptitude, continuing until they reached twelve or thirteen. Those found to possess the qualifications for cultivation were sent to the family’s private academy, their studies sponsored by the clan, where they trained exclusively until the ages of sixteen or seventeen. At that point, they would take the final major examination.

The annual examination was a turning point, deciding the fate of the young cultivators.

The top thirty in the exam earned the privilege to join the core enterprises of the Ning family, a path promising a far brighter future.

Wang Lan sipped her tea, her gaze frequently darting toward the main gate, unable to conceal her tension and anticipation.

Ning Ze, in contrast, seemed distracted, his spirits deeply troubled.

He had waited until dawn, yet the three ghosts of the Huang family had not returned with news.

"They have failed!"

"Who would have thought that boy with the long hair would prove so ruthless and cunning."

"Never mind, it’s all right."

"When I contacted those three from the Huang family, I never revealed my face. Even if that boy suspects, he can’t trace it back to me."

"They were all reputation and no substance. Even with a Divine Suppression Talisman and their green-mantid spirit pet, the three of them together could still lose. I truly misjudged them."

"Alas, what am I to do about that long-haired boy now?"

Forced to take a desperate gamble, Ning Ze had failed miserably. His head throbbed with worry, uncertain how he would explain this to the young clan leader.

"Father, Mother! I made it! I placed in the top thirty!" At that moment, a young man burst into the room, shouting excitedly.

"Truly? Ji’er, you really made it?" Wang Lan stood up at once, her face alight with delight.

The young cultivator, Ning Ji, called out loudly, "Of course! Mother, do you not even trust your own son?"

"Oh?" Ning Ze raised his head and saw his son’s unrestrained, triumphant grin.

Normally, Ning Ji's scores hovered around fortieth place; no one had expected him to perform so exceptionally this time.

This unexpected good news eased some of Ning Ze’s gloom.

Ning Ji announced in a proud voice, "Father, Mother, I’ve finally brought honor to our family. I told you, I had it all under control. My usual scores aren’t great simply because I never bothered to try my hardest."

"Unlike a certain someone!"

"Some people always do well, consistently in the top thirty, but this time his true colors showed—just thirty-first place! Out of the running!"

As he said this, Ning Ji glanced back at the white-robed youth who had followed him in, his face full of mockery.

The boy in white wore plain clothes, his eyes clear but shadowed by guilt and disappointment.

"Uncle, Aunt," the youth, Ning Zhuo, greeted them politely.

Wang Lan fixed her gaze on him, her voice sharp, "What? Xiao Zhuo, you failed the exam this time?"

Ning Ze’s expression darkened as he reached out, "Let me see your score sheet."

Ning Zhuo produced his result slip and handed it to his uncle.

Ning Ze glanced down, his face growing even more somber.

A moment later, he shook the paper in frustration and scolded, "Xiao Zhuo, how did you make such a grave mistake?"

"I remember you’ve had some success in mechanical arts."

"Didn’t you once craft a mechanical parrot that earned the elders’ praise?"

"That’s clearly your strength! How did you only receive a low mark this time?"

"If not for that poor result, you’d have ranked in the top thirty!"

His aunt’s eyes were sharp. "Xiao Zhuo, tell me—have you been taking on private work at the mechanical workshop again?"

She didn’t wait for him to answer but sighed and bewailed, "How many times have I told you, don’t be greedy for coin! At your age, you should be studying diligently."

"Focusing on earning spirit stones now is like picking up sesame seeds and dropping a watermelon!"

"Look at you now—beyond thirtieth place!"

"You can’t enter the clan’s core businesses now!"

Hearing this, Ning Zhuo finally summoned his courage. "Aunt, I heard from my classmates that there might be a way if connections are used..."

He hadn’t finished before she interrupted sternly, "Connections? Do you know how many spirit stones that would cost? How many people we’d have to owe favors to?"

"Oh, you do poorly and with one casual remark, your uncle and I are expected to run ourselves ragged, begging for back doors for you?"

"You have the nerve to even mention it!"

"If you knew this would happen, why didn’t you listen before?"

"I’ve always told you to focus on your cultivation, not to take on odd jobs for a few spirit stones."

"For what? If you made the top thirty and joined the clan’s enterprises, you’d earn much more. The work is lighter, the time is freer, and you could continue your cultivation!"

Ning Zhuo lifted his head, shame burning his cheeks. Clenching his jaw, he declared, "Uncle, Aunt, I take responsibility for my own actions!"

"If I’m thirty-first, so be it."

"I’m deeply grateful for your care all these years. These results are my own doing, and I’ll bear the consequences!"

"I take responsibility for myself!"

"I don’t believe I can’t find a way to support myself out there."

With that, Ning Zhuo bowed. "If there’s nothing else, my classmates are waiting for me for a meal. I’ll take my leave."

His uncle watched him in silence.

His aunt waved him off with disgust. "Go, go! How can you still be in the mood for a meal after performing so badly?"

Ning Zhuo could not bear to stay another moment and left in anger.

His cousin Ning Ji sat down at ease.

His aunt turned to Ning Ji, her anger vanishing, replaced by joy. "My son is truly outstanding!"

She pushed a plate of pastries toward him. "Try these—they’re Golden Silk Dew Cakes from the Golden Banquet Hall. Eating them will strengthen your sea of consciousness and fortify your spirit—great benefits for your cultivation and future foundation building!"

Ning Ji’s eyes sparkled. He eagerly picked up one and took a bite.

The cake was unique—soft and glutinous, with crisp golden threads and a liquid filling inside.

He swallowed three mouthfuls, feeling a cool energy rise from his abdomen to the crown of his head, refreshing his spirit.

Ning Ji sighed with genuine admiration. "Delicious! Truly delicious!"

"Then have more; they’re all for you," his mother laughed.

Ning Ji ate the remaining three, licking his lips in satisfaction. "No wonder Golden Banquet Hall’s treats are so famous! Why were there only four? Are there any more?"

His father snorted, "Each piece is worth twenty spirit stones. You just ate nearly a hundred in one sitting, and you’re asking for more?"

"If you want more, you’ll have to work harder and not slack off. Strive to earn your own spirit food in the future through your efforts in the clan."

Ning Ji protested, "Father, I’ve brought honor to you this time! Think about it—if my results were as before, wouldn’t you have to run around, make connections, and give gifts to get me into the family business? My excellent score has saved you hundreds of spirit stones, so what’s wrong with a few cakes from Golden Banquet Hall?"

"Besides, eating these is to strengthen my spirit and help my cultivation. If I had this level of resources earlier, my scores would have been top-notch long ago."

His father glared, about to scold him for talking back.

His mother quickly intervened, "Enough, enough, let’s not argue."

She glared at her husband. "My son did well—he deserves praise. You can’t say two words without criticizing him."

"Don’t think my son is just playful; when it matters, he’s reliable."

"Unlike Ning Zhuo, whose results always lull people into complacency, only to worry us the most in the end!"

"See? Just a bit of criticism and he storms off. So unteachable! Am I wrong?"

"Hmph, out for a meal, is he? He’s got the nerve for that!"

Ning Ji sneered, "He’s too proud for his own good, always thinking he knows best. He never listens to your patient advice."

"By the way, are we really going to use connections and burn favors for him?" he asked.

His father snorted, "That’s none of your concern."

Seeing his father’s anger, Ning Ji shrank back instinctively. Then, remembering his good results, he piped up, "Mother, since Ning Zhuo can go out for a meal, I want to go out to a restaurant and have some spirit food too. You have no idea how hard I worked for this exam!"

"All right, all right," his mother replied, laughing as she handed him a pouch of spirit stones.

Ning Ji took the pouch and left at once.

He left the family residence and wandered down the street, not heading straight to his favorite restaurant but strolling through the lanes.

He wanted to see where Ning Zhuo was eating.

Usually, he didn’t have this opportunity, so now that he did, Ning Ji was eager to find him and mock him for a bit of amusement.

But after searching everywhere, he couldn’t find him. He asked several shop assistants and confirmed that Ning Zhuo hadn’t shown up.

Ning Ji slapped his forehead, suddenly realizing, "That guy was just putting on a show. There’s no meal—he’s probably in that shabby house where his mother died, crying his eyes out!"

"Forget him. Time to eat!"

Spirit food was not only delicious but could also enhance cultivation, so Ning Ji looked forward to it greatly.

His guess was partly correct.

Ning Zhuo had already returned home.

Compared to his uncle and aunt’s residence, Ning Zhuo’s house was simple and dilapidated.

He quietly closed the courtyard gate behind him, crossed the yard, and entered his small, neat room, which served as both bedroom and study.

Though the furnishings were old and plain, everything was clean and tidy.

Ning Zhuo touched the lion-shaped paperweight on his desk.

It glimmered faintly, indicating that no one had entered during his absence.

He turned to the bed, twisted the railing beside it, and a series of creaks signaled the working of a mechanism.

The bed slid aside, revealing a passage below.

He stepped onto the wooden ladder and descended into the underground chamber.

Reaching the floor, he twisted a switch on the wall, moving the bed back into place above his head.

With the light from above sealed off, the runes on the walls glowed softly, illuminating the small space.

At last, the disappointment, anger, and sorrow vanished from Ning Zhuo’s face, replaced by calm composure.

He sat at his familiar workbench, covered in mechanical parts.

He opened the drawer to his right, revealing a stash of pastries.

Each was wrapped in paper stamped with the Golden Banquet Hall’s emblem.

He grabbed a handful—five or six pieces—channeled his spiritual power, and in an instant burned away the wrappings without damaging the cakes within.

Clearly, he had done this countless times before and was well-practiced.

Chewing the cakes, his gaze grew distant as he reflected on his day’s performance—a habit he had kept for more than a decade.

"There shouldn’t be any problem."

"But I didn’t expect that so many others underperformed in this year’s exam. Nearly lost control of my ranking and made it into the top thirty by accident..."

He almost thought he had failed to keep his score in check when he saw the rankings earlier.