Chapter 24 The Joyous Inn

East of Floating Cloud City stood the Delightful Guesthouse.

Wei Cheng had reserved a room there—a simple, ordinary chamber, for which the daily rent amounted to ten gold coins. Such a price was far beyond the reach of common folk.

He had considered renting a house within the city or perhaps seeking a quiet corner elsewhere, but he did not wish to waste time.

Soon, he ordered a hundred tea eggs, twenty beggar’s chickens, ten pounds of fine braised beef, ten jars of osmanthus wine... Once all the food was brought into his room, he was left with only a hundred gold coins in his hand. He paid the rent in full, closed the door behind him, instructed that he was not to be disturbed, and then, with both hands, devoured his feast as if the wind were sweeping clouds from the sky.

After he had eaten his fill, he did not rest. Instead, he sat in meditation, regulating his breath, employing the most fundamental Mountain-moving Method. Over and over, he circulated the mountain-moving inner force, keenly observing and memorizing the subtle, deeper transformations that occurred during this process.

It sounded simple, yet in truth, it was rather monotonous. Fortunately, the food in Floating Cloud City was of exceptional quality—not only far superior to the watery vegetable cakes he’d tried elsewhere, but even surpassing that exquisite power born of the fusion of ice and flame. Just consuming such fare over time would prolong one’s life.

Now, with the Mountain-moving Method for analysis and absorption, Wei Cheng found himself assimilating this power far more efficiently.

The effect was immediate: after a single cycle of cultivation, his mountain-moving inner force had recovered to eighty percent of his former peak. This meant his personal growth ceiling—the bottleneck—was being pushed further away.

Of course, this depended on his continued access to such high-quality food.

Again and again, tireless and sleepless, Wei Cheng’s spirit was vigorous. Regardless of day or night in Floating Cloud City, whether others rested or labored, he cultivated in this extravagantly lavish manner.

He sought not only the quantity of inner force, nor merely the number of innate meridians he could open, but also the advancement of the Mountain-moving Visualization Method.

In just eight days, with most of his provisions depleted—only eight jars of osmanthus wine remained—he had successfully accumulated enough mountain-moving inner force for six cycles of the Heavenly Stems.

Boom!

Like a vast sea, his inner force surged forth, breaking through and opening the sixth innate meridian in one unbroken stroke.

His breath was steady; the sound of waves echoed within him.

Wei Cheng’s spirit hovered over the layered mountains of his visualization diagram, somewhat weary—for this time, he had advanced the details of the next layer of the diagram by twenty percent.

The change was dramatic. Mist now billowed from the mountain landscape, and one could faintly hear the rumble of water deep in the ravines.

This was what he perceived with his inner vision, but when he circulated the mountain-moving inner force, the mist, the sound, and the presence of water within the mountains signified vitality and life—a simple, effortless path.

To illustrate more precisely: in battle, Wei Cheng could now wield his mountain-moving inner force with greater reserves and flexibility. His breath would be long and unbroken, making it difficult for an opponent’s sudden flurry of attacks to disrupt him, for his strength would never truly run dry.

Moreover, if faced with an assault far beyond his own limits, his capacity for buffering and defense would be greatly enhanced.

By Wei Cheng’s estimation, without the benefit of the Mountain-moving Visualization Diagram, even with six cycles of mountain-moving inner force, he could only barely withstand a single opponent of equal strength using the Purple Mist Method.

Conversely, with the diagram, he could contend with at least two such adversaries, provided they had not mastered a similar visualization method. If they had, then his extra twenty percent of deeper detail in the diagram would be his greatest advantage.

After all, the Purple Mist Method’s attacks were formidable—the deeper the inner force, the greater the threat. But with the added twenty percent from his visualization, he felt capable of facing three at once.

“What a pity—cultivation is always so expensive,” Wei Cheng sighed endlessly. One thousand five hundred eighty-two gold coins, nearly gone in just eight days.

Ordinarily, even if one toiled diligently, running errands and rising to the rank of a second-level manager like Liu Yahui, it would take a year or two to earn such a sum.

But who had so much time to grow?

Wei Cheng was deep in thought when suddenly, urgent bells rang throughout the city. Almost simultaneously, the aged voice of the trial immortal echoed once more in his ears.

“Everyone, the number of trial participants who have passed the gate has reached five thousand. The real trial officially begins—take care!”

“Damn!”

Wei Cheng finally understood the conditions and basic rules for the opening of the fifth level.

Eight days ago, the owner of the Floating Cloud Ironworks had casually written a number on the table—it must have referred to the count of those who had cleared the gate. Over the past eight days, that number rapidly accumulated to five thousand.

As for those who had cleared the gate earliest—just over a month ago—what could they have achieved in such a short time?

He thought of Cheng An, Yu Liang, Wang Wei, Han Dong, and others, who had barely managed to earn eight gold coins by now.

Even worse off were the masses who had recently succeeded; before they could even comprehend the situation, the fifth trial arrived.

In this brief period, chaos reigned in Floating Cloud City.

But soon, amid the clamor of gongs, voices rang out in the streets:

“By order of the city lord, a demon army will attack in two days. All able-bodied citizens and heroes are summoned to defend the city. Anyone who can assemble fifty people will be granted the rank of team leader, with daily pay and provisions. Meritorious deeds will be rewarded handsomely!”

“The deadline is three hours—after that, no more applicants!”

“Team leader? Pay and provisions?”

Wei Cheng immediately sensed the crux of the matter.

This was essentially no different from the earlier four levels: a team of fifty, but previously, teams had been formed abruptly and randomly, with no preparation.

Now, things were different. They had three hours—six hours—to prepare, to select teammates. If they failed to form a group in time, they would likely still be randomly assigned, since the locals would not be expected to fight.

With this realization, Wei Cheng glanced at his remaining eight jars of osmanthus wine, thought for a moment, then opened his door. He needed to become a team leader, for only by claiming the monument’s first kill could he break through the bottleneck—resources alone would never suffice. Only divine light could truly enhance vitality and spiritual strength.

Stepping outside, the dozen or so inn workers had vanished, leaving only the aged innkeeper, dozing at his desk, wholly unconcerned.

Naturally—he had nothing to do with this.

Wei Cheng approached. “Excuse me, elder.”

“Heh! No trouble. Are you checking out?”

“May I stay?”

“Of course—though after three hours, I can’t say for sure,” the innkeeper replied with meaningful emphasis.

Wei Cheng asked, “What if I become a team leader?”

“Then I’ll grant you four more rooms, with unlimited brown rice daily. Stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you!”

With this answer, Wei Cheng wasted no time. He left the guesthouse and found that not a single local resident remained in the streets—every face was that of a fellow Earthling, some rushing to and fro, others exuberantly waving flags and recruiting.

“Five cycles of mountain-moving here! Currently five members with four cycles, two with four cycles of Spirit Swallow, one with three cycles of Purple Mist. The strongest group in the district! Seeking powerful mountain-movers, skilled Spirit Swallowers, and promising Purple Mists—don’t miss out!”

“Four-cycle Spirit Swallow beauty here! Long legs, loli voice, mature face—seeking heroic brothers for our team!”

—

The scene was lively as a marketplace.

Wei Cheng never imagined he would witness such an event in the real world.

Ambition abounded—all aspired to lead, knowing that exposure to divine light was the ultimate path.

As he walked, just on one street there were dozens of teams forming. With five thousand trial participants, only a hundred teams could be formed in total. Clearly, there was much to sift through.

Soon, he arrived at the appointed meeting place with Cheng An, Yu Liang, Wang Wei, Han Dong, and others—the plaza before the city lord’s mansion, spacious and prominent.

There, he found most of the trial participants gathered, noisy as ever, though some truly formidable teams had already assembled days earlier.

Among the hubbub, rumors spread that one team boasted a full five-cycle lineup.

“Cleared the gate! Cleared the gate! The district’s strongest mountain-mover, Zhou Wu! Rumor has it he’s reached six cycles.”

Suddenly, the crowd stirred, voices rising like waves.

“Six cycles? That’s old news—Zhou Wu hit six cycles a week ago. Now he’s probably about to break through to seven. He’s a military expert, the first in the district to lead a team through the fourth trial. He’s been in Floating Cloud City nearly two months. We ordinary folks can’t hope to match that.”

“Exactly—Zhou Wu’s team all have five cycles. I barely have two…”

——