A day slipped by like sand through fingers, and Zhao Fan had already stepped into the third stage of the Holy Emperor Realm, after, his body was judged by the wrath of lightning tribulation.
From the mont one enters the Emperor Realm, every minor breakthrough is judged by the lightning, making sure those with the unstable foundation, are sent to hell as punishnt.
...
Currently,
"Sip!!"
Zhao Fan brought the porcelain cup to his lips, the steam curling like a lazy dragon into the still air as he slowly tasted the herbal tea made by the Holy Maiden.
His gaze lingered on the faintly glowing blue panel before him, thoughts drifting beneath calm waters.
He wore a Daoist robe woven in crimson deeper than blood and black darker than nightfall, untouched by dust, flowing like shadows beneath a setting sun.
A thin mist clung faintly to his striking face, blurring the lines of his expression. Yet, even without it, his features betrayed nothing, like the unmoving surface of a deep lake.
His presence was quiet, detached, like a star too distant to grasp, exuding the stillness of a being untouched by the noise of the mortal world.
Like a god, watching the ants.
"Holy Envoy... These are the top 24 powerhouses, and, as you have offered, only 12 of them shall enter the celestial assembly," An old man, face touched by age, hair washed by ti, sitting right beside Zhao Fan spoke.
He was the Holy Lord, also known as the sect master of the Supre Peak Holy Land.
"Hmm," Zhao Fan nodded his head.
Only those of pure talent, unwavering heart, and unshaken will are permitted to step into the Celestial Assembly.
After all, it is a realm where all cultivation is suppressed to equality, rendering brute strength aningless, and making the dispatch of powerhouses a hollow gesture.
As such, it makes no sense to send a powerhouse compared to sending pure talent.
Zhao Fan’s gaze swept across the gathered people, pausing as his eyes caught sight of two figures, both bearing the sa gentle grace as Ling’er.
One was her mother, serene and dignified; the other, her elder sister, the Saintess of the Supre Holy Peak.
Zhao Fan couldn’t help but let a faint smile curl on his lips as he turned his gaze back to the Holy Lord.
"Hmm... it seems Ling’er’s sister is no less beautiful than Ling’er herself," He said in a voice laced with ancient calm, as though speaking across lifetis.
"I find myself fond of her already. Tell , Holy Lord, do you have any objections? Because from where I see, having both your daughters follow is a blessing for them,"
The words were nothing but truth.
The Holy Lord’s expression stiffened for a brief breath, the corners of his eyes twitching ever so slightly.
His gaze flicked toward his daughter, this daughter unlike Ling’er was talented, a candle ant to light the darkness... However, it has been a few days and Ling’er has already started to show good growth.
Perhaps it would be best to sail both daughters on the sa ship, Young Master Zhao is a man of integrity, background, and grace.
Turning back to Zhao Fan, the weight of countless calculations flashed silently behind his Holy Lord’s calm face.
But almost at once, he composed himself.
His sleeves fluttered lightly as his hands placed on the arms of the chair twitched slightly.
Forcing a smile onto his aged face, like an old pine bowing in a storm, dignified yet yielding, he spoke.
"Haha... Young Lord Zhao truly has discerning eyes,"
He said, his voice smooth like aged wine but carrying the tremor of hidden unease.
"If fate draws you toward our Saintess, this old one can only offer blessings..."
He dipped his head slightly in respect, the gesture just enough to acknowledge Zhao Fan’s status while masking the tightness in his chest.
Zhao Fan remained still, his expression as calm as still water beneath a winter moon.
He t the Holy Lord’s words with a slight nod, simply acknowledging what was already inevitable.
Accepting his grace is free of cost but rejection cos at a price.
"If the Holy Lord says," he said, his voice quiet yet absolute, "Then let it be so..."
* * *
[Na: Lu Qingyan]
[Age: 92 ]
[Cultivation: forth Stage of Void refining realm ]
[Qi Luck: 2000 ( Female lead )]
[Blessing:
– Nine-Petal Ice Soul Physique ( sealed )
– Innate Yin Spirit ridian ]
[Calculating potential plotline ]
[Connecting the cosmic threads ]
[ Calculation successful... ]
[ Female Lead on Yang Kai’s story, fated to et him after a month. ]
[Plot point: She will be injured by soone from the upper world, creating long-term ridian poisoning however, Yang Kai heals her, and she slowly starts to build feelings for him]
Qi Luck 2000?
Zhao Fan can’t help but smile as he wants to steal that luck, a normal person possesses Qi Luck of 10 to 100 depending on all situations such as initiate talent, family background, talent, etc.
He used his true spiritual eyes and could sense the heavenly aura surrounding her body.
But the system was correct... It seems he can’t truly absorb the Qi Luck from soone else.
Last ti he had stolen around four thousand Qi Luck from Ye Chen but nothing happened.
...
There is a concept of fortune lux.
It’s an invisible and ever-changing force that influences the outcos of events and affects the growth of a cultivator.
The fortune lux is closely related to the Ohm vibration of the soul that shapes the flow of luck and rolling dice of possibilities, in the universe.
Fortune Lux is divided into three separate things: Golden, the positive vibration of the ohm, Dark, the negative vibration of the ohm, and white, the normal vibration of the Ohm.
Judging from system chanics, Zhao Fan is sure that he can never collect the positive vibration of Ohm.
Perhaps this is the reason for his death in his last life... Collecting Golden Fortune lux, slowly cleansing his white fortune lux.
Maybe, having positive and negative vibrations cancels each other, creating a neutral white vibration,
...
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