One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

The next day, early in the morning.

When the first rays of sunlight pierce through the thin mist and fall on the glazed tiles of Longhu Mountain, the entire mountain seems to awaken from its slumber.

thump -- thump -- thump --

The deep, melodious sound of the bell echoed through the valley, startling countless birds in the forest.

Today marks the official opening of the Luotian Grand Ritual.

The training ground was already packed with people.

Extraordinary heroes from all corners of the country gathered together, their noise and laughter merging into a massive wave of sound that soared into the sky.

In the center of the huge training ground, a magnificent high platform was erected.

The old Celestial Master Zhang Zhiwei, dressed in a red robe with gold thread, stood on a high platform, his long beard fluttering in the wind. Behind him stood Tian Jinzhong and Lu Jin, two of the Ten Elders, as well as a group of high-ranking Taoist priests from the Celestial Master's Mansion.

That air of otherworldly elegance certainly commanded respect.

"Everyone..."

The old Celestial Master's voice, amplified by Qi, clearly resonated throughout every corner:

"Welcome everyone to Longhu Mountain to participate in this year's Luotian Grand Ritual."

"Young people are the future of the supernatural world, and also the hope of us old bones..."

The young, extraordinary people in the audience straightened their backs, their eyes burning with passion, listening with fervor.

Only at the very back of the line, in that inconspicuous, shady corner.

Zhang Taichu was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head nodding, a drop of clear liquid still hanging from his lips.

I drank too much last night, and with that half a lamb leg in my stomach, I slept really soundly.

The deafening cheers around him seemed to have no effect on him.

Only the occasional loud "Good!" would make him drowsily furrow his brow, mutter "So noisy," and then change his position to continue sleeping.

If you don't look closely, no one would think this is a contestant; he looks more like a homeless person who can't find a place to sleep.

The old master on the stage was still speaking eloquently.

The discussion ranged from the history of the supernatural world to the current situation, and from the rules of the competition to the principle of "friendship first, competition second."

They talked for a full half hour.

Just when the contestants below the stage were getting a little weak in the knees from listening.

"Alright, I won't say any more."

Zhang Zhiwei waved with a smile:

"Now, let's begin the lottery!"

These words instantly ignited the atmosphere in the room.

Several young Taoist disciples carried a huge red wooden box to the center of the field.

"Please come forward one by one to draw lots!"

The referee shouted loudly.

The crowd began to surge.

"Hey! Let me go first! I'm on a lucky streak!"

"Stop pushing! Who stepped on my foot?"

Amidst the chaos, one figure stood out.

"Dear brothers and sisters! Please have mercy! Let me draw first!"

Zhang Chulan, with his body hunched over and an extremely obsequious smile on his face, darted in and out of the crowd like an eel.

"I'm a coward, the sooner I smoke, the sooner I'll give up! Please, everyone!"

The people around him looked at this shameless bastard with disgust.

"Isn't that Zhang Chulan? Is this the kind of person the successor of the Qi Body Source Flow is?"

"Pah! You're a disgrace to Zhang Huaiyi! Let him smoke first! Now get lost!"

Zhang Chulan ignored the surrounding insults and instead bowed gratefully to everyone.

"Thank you so much! You are all such kind people!"

He ran excitedly to the box, reached in and groped around for a while, then pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Yi...Yi Qinglong!"

Zhang Chulan let out an exaggerated shout, then looked at the referee with a bitter face:

"Master, am I the only one with the Azure Dragon Beast? Can you let me advance directly?"

The referee's lips twitched, and he gave him a disapproving glare.

"Next!"

Zhang Chulan shrank his neck, took the note and slipped to the side, but in the instant he turned his back to everyone, a glint of shrewdness flashed in his seemingly panicked eyes.

The lottery is still ongoing.

As each name was called, some were happy while others were sad.

Until there were only a few crumpled pieces of paper left in the box.

"Next up, Zhang Chu!"

The referee called out the name of the roster.

No one answered.

"Zhang Chu? Is Zhang Chu here?"

The referee raised his voice and shouted it again.

Still, no one answered.

Just as the referee was about to call out the next name.

In the corner, the figure that had been leaning against the wall finally moved.

Zhang Taichu groggily opened his eyes, yawned, stretched, and his joints crackled and popped.

"Are you trying to call back the soul...?"

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, stood up from the corner, and slowly walked towards the box.

The tattered Taoist robe hung loosely on his body, and the heels of his cloth shoes were worn down, making a rustling sound as he walked.

All eyes in the room instantly turned to him.

"Who's this? They look like they just woke up!"

"Isn't that the guy who swept the floor yesterday? He's participating too?"

"Is there no one left at the Celestial Master's Mansion? Why are they even sending out menial servants?"

Discussions arose.

Zhang Taichu ignored these voices.

He strolled leisurely to the box, not even glancing at the referee, and didn't even bother to raise his hand too high. He casually tucked a crumpled piece of paper out from the edge of the box.

Unfold.

"Baihu (乙白虎)".

Zhang Taichu read it once, then listlessly stuffed the note into his pocket.

"Alright, is that all?"

He glanced at the referee, and without waiting for a reply, turned and left.

in the crowd.

Wang Ye, who was just watching the excitement, felt his hair stand on end the moment he heard the name "Zhang Chu" and saw that familiar face.

"Amitabha Buddha..."

Wang Ye subconsciously shrank back into the crowd, burying his already listless face even lower:

"Please don't let it be me...please don't let it be me..."

He clutched the note in his hand tightly; it clearly read "Bing Zhuque" (丙朱雀).

Upon seeing these three words, Wang Ye let out a long sigh of relief and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Thank goodness... I'm not destined to die."

He raised his head and looked at those who were still waiting to draw lots or had already drawn lots, and a look of compassion appeared in his eyes.

"I wonder which unlucky guys were grouped with this guy."

"This lot...whoever draws it is doomed."

……

A corner of the training ground.

Three people, each holding a slip of paper with the inscription "Yi Baihu," were gathered together.

These three people each have their own unique appearance.

The one on the left is burly, with arms thicker than an average person's thighs, and large, thick hands covered in calluses. He's clearly a master of hard kung fu.

He is Zhao Dalong, the successor of the Liaodong Iron Palm technique.

The one in the middle had messy long hair, several throwing knives at his waist, a sinister look in his eyes, and a sour smell about him.

Li San, a wandering swordsman who wields throwing knives.

The one on the right looks a bit more normal, wearing a training uniform, but his legs are disproportionately long, clearly indicating he practices leg techniques.

Twelve-way Tan Tui, Wang Ergou.

At this moment.

The three looked at the note in their hands, then at each other, and finally their gazes all fell on Zhang Taichu, who was not far away and was preparing to find a place to continue sleeping.

After a brief silence.

"Hahahahaha!"

A burst of ecstatic laughter erupted.

Zhao Dalong slapped his thigh hard, his large, fan-like hand causing the surrounding air to tremble.

"What did I say? I checked the almanac before I left! Today is auspicious! Absolutely auspicious!"

"I originally thought that the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony would be full of experts, and that the first round would be a tough battle."

"I never expected this! God has sent me such a wonderful gift!"

A grotesque smile crept across Li San's sinister face as he toyed with a throwing knife, the blade dancing between his fingertips.

"In the group with the White Tiger, the four advance to the next round."

"Besides the three of us brothers, is that the guy sweeping the floor?"

He gestured with his lip towards Zhang Taichu, his tone extremely contemptuous:

"I just inquired, and that kid is just a janitor at the Celestial Master's Mansion. He's probably just there to make up the numbers."

"I could pin this kind of guy to the ground with a single slash."

Wang Ergou stretched his ankles and said excitedly:

"Hey, hey, you two brothers, we need to make this agreement."

"This piece of fatty meat is easy to chew, but there's still a way to eat it."

"In my opinion, once the game starts, we should get rid of that sweeper so he won't be in the way on the field."

"Then the three of us brothers will settle things with our true skills, how about it?"

Zhao Dalong grinned, revealing a mouthful of large, yellow teeth:

"Just what I wanted!"

"That kind of trash is an insult to us to even stand on this stage."

"I also want to see if the sweeping Taoist priest of the Celestial Master's Mansion can withstand my Iron Sand Palm!"

The three became more and more excited as they talked, as if they could already see themselves advancing to the next round.

They put their arms around each other's shoulders and their voices grew louder and louder, showing no intention of avoiding others.

"That delicate girl sweeping the floor, don't let me slap her until she cries!"

"Hahaha, then he'll be crying his way back to his mother!"

"Let's go! Let's go over there and discuss it again, see what's the coolest way to blast him off the cliff!"

Not far away.

Wang Ye leaned against the railing, holding the large thermos in his hand, watching the three unlucky guys who were excitedly waving their arms and legs.

He shook his head and sighed softly.

"Amitabha Buddha... no, I mean, May the Heavenly Venerable bestow boundless blessings."

"Ignorance...sometimes it's a blessing."

Wang Ye took a sip of tea, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"This is far from being a lucky draw."

"This is like drawing a death warrant from the King of Hell."

On the other side...

Zhang Chulan, who had been watching this scene closely, was now covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking violently.

"Pfft... Hahahaha..."

Zhang Chulan was laughing so hard that tears were almost coming out, and he tugged at Feng Baobao's sleeve.

Feng Baobao was squatting on the ground digging a hole to bury the watermelon rind she had just finished eating. When she heard this, she raised her head, her large, calm eyes looking at the three people and then at Zhang Taichu in the distance.

"oh."

Feng Baobao gave a faint reply and continued to fill the soil, not forgetting to tamp it down with a shovel.

"These three people have dark circles under their eyes."

"You can read faces?" Zhang Chulan was taken aback.

"can't read."

Feng Baobao stood up and patted the dirt off her hands:

"But I know that if I offend that Taoist priest, I will definitely not have a good ending."

"That flick on the head really made a loud noise."

Zhang Chulan couldn't help but shiver, the image of Huang Mao being flung away and hanging from a tree last night flashing through his mind.