Chapter Eighteen: The Eccentric Test Rules

“No, it’s nothing,” Qin Xiaochuan quickly replied, hurriedly covering his wrist with his hand after hearing Zhang Yang’s question. He discreetly removed the Youli Meter and slipped it into his pocket. “The battery might have gotten wet. Let’s go…” he said, beckoning Zhang Yang to follow the rest of the group. It seemed that the next test would be even harder, and finding a demon child wouldn’t be easy—he would have to think of another plan.

Following Master Jinghai, the remaining contestants arrived at the door of another room. After the first round of elimination, there were about fifty people left. Master Jinghai glanced at the number of remaining contestants and muttered to herself, “Still quite a few left.” Then she pushed open the door before her.

“Here? This is…”

“Isn’t this an arcade?”

The contestants who followed Master Jinghai into the spacious room, seeing it filled with arcade machines, were once again taken aback. Clearly, Master Jinghai was an unusual character; despite her age, she still had a childlike heart. If she hadn’t demonstrated her abilities earlier, many contestants might have left in the first round.

“Now, I shall announce—” Master Jinghai began to explain the rules for the second round as everyone filed into the arcade.

“Wait, Master,” one contestant near the monk hesitantly asked, “what does playing games have to do with disciple selection?”

“Of course, it’s relevant,” Master Jinghai raised an eyebrow at the question. “These are not ordinary arcade machines. Without spiritual power, you won’t score any points at all. Now, let me explain the rules for the second round.”

As Master Jinghai was about to announce the rules, the murmuring crowd instantly fell silent.

“There are three types of arcade machines here to test whether your spiritual abilities meet the standard. The first is this: the punching machine. Use all your strength and hit it three times; if the score displayed exceeds 120P, you pass.

The second is: the Heartbeat Rock-Paper-Scissors Machine. It’s simple. The machine randomly chooses one of the three moves—rock, paper, or scissors. If you guess and beat the machine’s move, you get a point. I don’t need to explain the rules of rock-paper-scissors, do I? Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, paper beats rock. Score three points or more to pass; you have ten chances in total.”

Seeing the silent crowd, Master Jinghai nodded, cleared her throat, and continued, “The last test is: Soul Singer. That’s this machine here.” She pointed to a karaoke arcade machine with a microphone plugged in. “You must sing with all your spiritual power. If the score displayed exceeds 70P, you pass. If you fail to meet the standard on two or more of these machines, you lose eligibility. Has everyone understood?”

“Yes!” the contestants replied in unison.

“One more thing to note: none of the machines will start without inserting a one-yuan coin.”

“That miserly old woman,” Qin Xiaochuan grumbled inwardly, fishing around in his pocket. “Hey, Zhang Yang, do you have any coins? Lend me one.”

“Sure, I prepared a bunch for the bus ride here. Here, take three.”

“Step aside, I’ll be the first to try the punching machine!” A contestant dressed as a boxer strode up, gloves on, brimming with confidence. He assumed a professional stance, swung his right fist back, and delivered a fierce hook to the center of the punching ball. After a moment, the screen displayed the result.

“18P.”

“Disqualified!” Master Jinghai announced.

“Impossible! I’m the national arcade punching champion!” the contestant protested, staring in disbelief at his meager score.

“Idiot, as I said,” Master Jinghai seized the chance to instruct the others, “to get a high score, you have to combine all your spiritual power with your movement. Didn’t you hear? OUT!”

“129P. Pass.”

Zhang Yang stepped up next, inserted a coin, and without much preparation, slammed his fist into the machine. The screen quickly displayed a high score of 129P—clearly, Zhang Yang’s spiritual power was formidable.

“Well, Qin Xiaochuan, did you see my strength?” Zhang Yang crowed, flashing a middle finger at Qin Xiaochuan in triumph.

“Don’t get cocky, you barely passed. Watch this.” Qin Xiaochuan flexed his arm in response, pulled Zhang Yang aside, inserted a coin, and punched the machine hard.

“155P. Pass.”

“What?!” Zhang Yang, still showing off a moment before, wilted instantly when he saw Qin Xiaochuan’s score. It seemed it wasn’t just bad luck that made him lose to Qin Xiaochuan in the past.

“Heh, how about that, Zhang Yang? See my power now?” Qin Xiaochuan wiped his nose, flexed his biceps for Zhang Yang, and began to look smug.

“Damn it, let’s settle it on the rock-paper-scissors machine!” Not willing to lose face, Zhang Yang issued another challenge—after all, sensing spiritual energy was his forte, and the machine happened to test predictive judgment.

“Ha, bring it on. Let’s see who’s better.” Fresh off his victory, Qin Xiaochuan was eager to press his advantage, following Zhang Yang to the next machine.

“Amazing, that guy got all of them right!”

“How about that, Qin Xiaochuan?” Zhang Yang boasted as admiring exclamations rose from the crowd.

“Damn, my intuition is supposed to be great…” Qin Xiaochuan muttered, frustrated, after seeing his 3 wins and 7 losses. He punched the machine in annoyance, but, unwilling to admit defeat, immediately pointed to the karaoke machine. “Let’s settle this with karaoke. This time, I’ll win for sure.”

“Fine, it’s 1-1. Let’s have the final showdown.” Zhang Yang, while never able to beat Qin Xiaochuan in a fight, found it deeply satisfying to win at games. Now, with the singing machine as the decider, he was determined to reclaim his pride.

‘This kid is impressive—spiritual power over 150P,’ thought Master Jinghai, surprised by Qin Xiaochuan’s high score. ‘That curly-haired one next to him has strong spiritual sensitivity too—must be family talent. He’ll do well with spiritual tools and advanced talismans. And that long-haired one over there has a powerful spiritual strike—180P! The bald one’s spiritual power is high as well, able to channel it throughout his body. Looks like this batch has some promising candidates—excellent, excellent.’

Watching the contestants break records on the machines, Master Jinghai was clearly satisfied. After the second round, more than half had been eliminated—only about twenty remained.

‘It’s so hard to reduce the numbers—why are there still so many?’ Master Jinghai thought, glancing at the survivors. She hadn’t planned to take on so many; if only a couple had made it through, that would have been ideal. But faced with this energetic group, she could only lead them to the third testing ground: the so-called Forest of Death. Many unwary travelers who ventured in had never returned, earning the place its reputation as the “Forbidden Zone of the Living.” Still, with so many left, she’d have to eliminate more quickly; otherwise, choosing the right disciple would be too difficult. Whether they could make it out of the forest would depend on their luck and spiritual perception.

“We’re here.”

Master Jinghai led the remaining contestants to the edge of a forest enclosed by thick ropes. Charms and spiritual trinkets hung from the ropes, and in a highly conspicuous spot stood a sign painted in blood-red letters: “Forest of Death—No Entry for the Living!”

“The previous tests were just warm-ups. This third one is exceedingly harsh.” With all the contestants gathered, Master Jinghai turned to announce the rules of the third trial.

“This is terrifying…”

“Yeah, my hair’s standing on end just looking at it…”

“Same here—the forest gives me the chills…”

Seeing the forest cordoned off with charms and thick ropes, some of the contestants were already fearful. Perhaps the sinister atmosphere of the woods affected them—more or less, everyone could sense the aura of death. It was no wonder; every year, dozens of souls perished here, and the lingering resentment of the wronged dead could be clearly felt by those with spiritual abilities.

“Frightened, aren’t you?” Master Jinghai smiled at the contestants’ fearful faces. “This forest before you is called the ‘Forest of Death.’ True to its name, rare minerals buried within disturb electronic equipment, and the fog and electromagnetic interference inside cause many to lose their way—some wander in circles until they collapse and die. There are also beasts and demons’ lairs inside, so be careful. Now, do you see that tallest, largest tree up ahead?”