Trial by Qi

The test day finally rolled in like a stubborn ox cart, bringing with it a sense of nervous energy that hung thick in the air. Kunan, the mysterious big shot from the Celestial Dragon Sect, perched his butt on the village's central pagoda. Eyes shut tight, surrounded by a dense fog of murky grey, he looked like he was trying to take a nap mid-air.

A scroll and a quill floated beside him, doing their little magical dance. From a distance, it seemed like he was chilling, but truth be told, he was just hovering a smidge above the ground. Couldn't stand getting his fancy robes dirty, could he? The earth beneath him was like a pigsty, not fit for a celestial being like him.

In Kunan's mind, a sense of assurance simmered beneath the surface, like a sturdy ox plowing through a field of uncertainty. "No sweat," he thought, his confidence unwavering. "Once I uncover that rumored child from the remote hinterlands, my ticket to a deacon's position in the outer sect is as good as stamped. It's just a matter of playing the long game."

Opening his eyes, Kunan's voice rang out with a commanding presence, resonating through the crowd with a clarity that left no room for doubt. "The test begins now," he declared, his words reaching the ears of every villager gathered before him. "Every child, aged ten to nineteen, shall partake in this trial. It shall serve as the gauge of your worthiness for cultivation."

His tone carried a hint of benevolent authority, a reminder that this opportunity was bestowed upon them by the grace of the emperor and the Celestial Dragon Sect. "Be grateful," he continued, his voice a blend of sternness and compassion. "For in their mercy, you have been granted this chance to rise above your humble beginnings."

"And I expect compliance," Kunan asserted with authority, his voice brooking no opposition. "Immortals dine on the essence of the cosmos, not the flesh of flightless birds."

His remark was a blunt jab at those persisting in their attempts to butter up the supposed god with chicken offerings, a not-so-subtle suggestion that their efforts were about as useful as trying to milk a bull.

As the test commenced, parents trembled with fear while children were scared shitless, their faces pale with apprehension. Some approached the challenge with a sense of adventure, while others exchanged final glances, silently bidding farewell to loved ones. For each of them, it was a do-or-die moment, with the looming threat of the immortal's unpredictable wrath hanging over their heads like a guillotine blade, ready to strike at any moment.

For the villagers, it felt as though they had stepped into the pages of a legend, witnessing a myth unfold before their very eyes. The tales of immortals, whispered through generations, had suddenly come to life in their humble village. It was a surreal opportunity, tinged with equal parts fascination and terror.

The legends spoke of immortals who lived as long as the mountains and wielded blades capable of splitting the seasons apart. The thought of such beings walking among them sent shivers down their spines, yet it also stirred a sense of awe and wonder. It was a mixture of emotions, a cocktail of fear and fascination that gripped the hearts of the villagers as they watched the events unfold before them.

Even the emperor himself was aware of the existence of these immortals. It was inevitable, given the long-standing dynasty that had reigned for over a thousand years. While it was His Majesty's grace that had bestowed this opportunity upon them, it also served as a stark reminder of their inherent disconnect from the immortal society.

Did they really have a shot at cultivation? It felt like asking a chicken to play chess against a dragon. The odds were about as shitty as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. But hey, stranger things had happened, right? Maybe one of these village yokels would end up surprising everyone, including themselves.

As Kunan's command reverberated through the air, "Form a queue!" a wave of shock swept through the crowd. Suddenly, they found themselves lifted into the air, their bodies defying gravity in a surreal display of otherworldly power. Gasps of astonishment escaped from every mouth, mingling with the nervous murmurs of those who were too stunned to comprehend what was happening.

"What in the name of the celestial dragon is going on?!" cried out Jia, his voice trembling with fear.

"I-I can't... I can't move!" stammered Ming, his eyes wide with terror as he struggled against the invisible force that held him aloft.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from Xiao, though the underlying fear was palpable. "Well, this just went from bizarre to downright terrifying," he muttered, his words punctuated by a nervous chuckle.

Amidst the confusion and fear, there was a sudden, unmistakable sound—a soft *squish* that echoed through the air, followed by a collective gasp of horror.

"What was that?!" exclaimed Mei, her voice tinged with fear.

"Did someone...?" began Liang, unable to finish the sentence as the implications sank in.

As all eyes turned toward the unfortunate soul who had experienced the mishap, a mixture of sympathy and unease washed over the crowd. In the midst of the supernatural spectacle unfolding before them, the mundane yet embarrassing accident served as a stark reminder of their vulnerability in the face of unknown powers.

As Kunan herded each kid onto the massive magic thingy, called formulation number 56, tension hung thick in the air. This weird circle thing, cooked up by ancient nerds, was supposed to figure out if these brats had what it takes to be immortal. Some hoped for a shot at greatness, while others were just waiting to be told they're basically screwed.

As the kids lined up, fear painted their faces paler than ghosts. Parents, sweating bullets, exchanged worried glances, their voices trembling like leaves in a storm.Thirteen-year-old Ming, his knees knocking together like a pair of old boots, stumbled forward. His parents, clutching each other like a pair of drowning rats, watched in horror as the qi engulfed their son."M-Ming, you okay?" his father stuttered, his voice cracking like dry twigs underfoot.Ming, writhing in agony, clawed at his chest, his eyes wide with terror. "I-I can't breathe!" he gasped, his words choked with pain.His mother, tears streaming down her face, reached out desperately. "Hang on, Ming, we're here!" she cried, her voice tinged with desperation.But it was no use. Ming's body couldn't handle the qi onslaught. With a gut-wrenching scream, he collapsed to the ground, crumbling like a sandcastle in a storm.The villagers, frozen in shock, could only watch as Ming turned to ash before their very eyes. The harsh reality of cultivation had never felt more real—or more terrifying.

Kunan sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of their suffering. "Poor things," he muttered, his voice laced with regret. He couldn't bear to see the sight of parents being separated from their child, their cries of anguish echoing in his ears. But it was the way of the world, the harsh reality of cultivation. And so, with a heavy heart and a flick of his wrist, he ended their suffering, sending them to join their child in the afterlife. It was a cruel fate, but one that had become all too familiar in his line of work.

Liang's stomach churned as he witnessed the tragic scene unfolding before him. "Again, it happened again," he muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Why is this happening?"

He doubled over, retching violently as the stench of death filled the air. Beside him, Mei clung to his hand, her fingers trembling with fear. Liang wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a desperate attempt to offer comfort. 

The floating quill and scroll scribbled the grim outcome: "Ming: qi insulator, dead. Zero aptitude." It hovered near Kunan, a silent witness to the tragedy unfolding before him.