Mu Yanxin asked the Terminal Ring about this matter and learned something truly shocking.
Not only the champions of each province’s entrance exams, but basically anyone in the top three, and even those ranked in the top hundred in the province—all these so-called genius disciples—were capable of killing a cultivator at the Golden Core stage.
This isn’t cultivation! Mu Yanxin almost wanted to say that, but then he thought of how those high-scoring disciples probably all had bodies at least at the Nascent Soul, or even Void Refinement level of strength.
Add to that the fact that the wealthy could bring powerful magic tools, talismans, or even true treasures—maybe it really was possible to accomplish the impossible and defeat a Core Formation cultivator.
All disciples’ scores were public. The top hundred disciples were, in fact, almost perfect in every subject—including actual combat.
At this point, Mu Yanxin still had another question: “What exactly is the Taiqing Immortal Domain? And what’s a simulated examiner?”
“The Taiqing Immortal Domain is an immortal world simulated by the heavenly court using great magical power and illusion techniques within the Dao Web.”
“Everything inside is the same as reality, and you can experience all kinds of miraculous auxiliary cultivation there. You need a brain-machine interface to enter,” the Terminal Ring replied.
The Terminal Ring continued explaining what a simulated examiner was, but when Mu Yanxin wondered what a brain-machine interface was, his mind was suddenly wracked by pain again—the exact same pain he had felt when he first arrived in this world.
His head felt like it was splitting, and at the same time, the image of the old man lying in a cave once more surfaced in his mind.
“Master, are you alright? Would you like me to contact a hospital?” The Terminal Ring stopped its explanation and asked.
The pain faded in an instant.
Holding his forehead, Mu Yanxin stood up and said, “No need, I’m fine.”
He now more or less understood what the Taiqing Immortal Domain and simulated examiner were.
In his previous life, there were also arrays that could create illusions, transforming into all kinds of non-existent powerful enemies—even heart demon tribulations were similar—so Mu Yanxin didn’t find it too hard to comprehend.
He still didn’t really understand what a brain-machine interface was, but decided to just think of it as a magical artifact that activated the Taiqing Immortal Domain.
It wasn’t important right now, so Mu Yanxin turned his attention back to the original owner’s scores and the High Sects.
The original owner had no spiritual roots and no special physique, starting off with a three-hundred point deficit right away.
Then, perhaps because he was too poor and had no good magic tools or talismans, he didn’t do well in actual combat either, and ended up with a final score of five hundred and sixty-three.
Those who scored over seven hundred could enter heaven-grade High Sects; over five hundred meant earth-grade High Sects; under five hundred meant only human-grade High Sects.
Of course, sects like the Ghost Reaver High Sect would recruit a portion of disciples with scores just over four hundred as special soul cultivator students—after all, most people didn’t want to become soul cultivators.
The Swordwashing High Sect’s admission cutoff was close to six hundred.
It was obvious the original owner, judging by his usual simulated test scores, was aiming high—if his results were good enough, he’d go for Swordwashing High Sect.
Ghost Reaver High Sect was his safety net. If he didn’t perform well enough, at least he could enter as a special soul cultivator student.
Clearly, the original owner never considered human-grade High Sects—he was determined to at least get into an earth-grade High Sect.
The only thing Mu Yanxin didn’t understand was: why did he choose Spiritual Moon High Sect in the middle?
He asked, “Aren’t there a few other High Sects with similar score requirements as Spiritual Moon High Sect? The requirements aren’t that different. Why did I choose Spiritual Moon High Sect?”
“Master, the Dao Web’s program analyzes based on comprehensive data—your personality, areas of expertise, development direction, the teaching staff and equipment of each High Sect, future prospects, and employment after graduation. Overall, Spiritual Moon High Sect is an excellent choice,” the Terminal Ring replied.
It even projected a new page: the Dao Web’s recommendation program, known as High Sect Treasure. It could analyze in real time which direction was suitable for each person, and compare the true strength of every High Sect.
The page automatically popped up with an analysis of Spiritual Moon High Sect.
Spiritual Moon Palace was extremely wealthy and had a huge demand for female disciples.
Spiritual Moon High Sect received abundant funding and cultivation resources, its campus facilities were top-notch, and it was an excellent place for cultivation.
There were also internal promotion channels: one could go straight from the Initial Sect to High Sect, from High Sect to Grand Sect, and after graduating from the Grand Sect, directly join Spiritual Moon Palace.
Moreover, Spiritual Moon High Sect graduates had good employment prospects—even if they didn’t make it into the Grand Sect, they could still find a job upon graduation, with a fairly high monthly income in spirit stones to support their future cultivation.
Finally, among Spiritual Moon High Sect graduates, many women managed to break through to Nascent Soul and Void Refinement, and quite a few of them came from ordinary families.
In contrast, among graduates from other High Sects, those who achieved high status in the future were almost all from wealthy families.
Similarly, the recommendation logic for Ghost Reaver High Sect was the same. Many soul cultivator special students from ordinary backgrounds also achieved considerable success after graduation.
Mu Yanxin’s face was covered with black lines.
Of course, he understood what so-called “great achievement” meant—wasn’t it just becoming a subordinate ghost within a powerful cultivator’s soul artifact, then growing stronger by following them as they ascended?
But could that really be considered a great achievement?
Anyway, Mu Yanxin was absolutely unwilling to become a ghost cultivator. As for becoming a female cultivator, he was just as reluctant.
Who knew why being groomed as a furnace could possibly count as a future achievement?
After all, in Mu Yanxin’s previous life, a furnace was nothing more than someone to be used by higher-level cultivators for dual cultivation, sacrificing themselves for others’ benefit.
Only female cultivators with the lowest aptitude would choose to become furnaces, just to seek the protection of higher-level cultivators—something all other cultivators looked down upon.
“Master, joining Spiritual Moon High Sect doesn’t necessarily mean you must become a furnace. In fact, Spiritual Moon High Sect has many cultivation paths: you could be a maid, a dual-cultivation companion, or even an independent female cultivator.” The Terminal Ring answered earnestly.
Mu Yanxin let out a sigh.
The Terminal Ring was, after all, only the simplest kind of intelligence, only capable of mechanical responses, unable to grasp human hearts.
Was he really worried about being a furnace or engaging in dual cultivation?
What he truly couldn’t accept was the very first step—becoming a female cultivator.
That was just too outrageous.
“My parents—how did they agree to let me become a female cultivator?” Mu Yanxin asked again.
By rights, becoming a female cultivator would mean the family line would end—after all, the original owner was the only son.
“Your father was strongly opposed at first, but you insisted on joining Spiritual Moon High Sect. Your mother supported your decision, and even said, ‘If it comes to it, you can always have surgery to become a man again in the future,’ which persuaded your father,” the Terminal Ring replied.
Mu Yanxin fell silent again.
He never expected that it was actually the original owner’s insistence.
Such determination to pursue the Dao made him feel ashamed by comparison.
Things had come to this point, and he no longer had a choice. The original owner had actively agreed to join Spiritual Moon High Sect; he must have been fully prepared mentally when he filled in his application.
If Mu Yanxin now behaved differently from the original owner, others would surely suspect that he’d been replaced.
He had just checked the Dao Web, and found that this world also had the concept of body-snatching.
Besides, he had no other path. If he wanted to return to his original world, he had to grow stronger and become a high-level cultivator.
If he couldn’t join a sect, then with this body that didn’t even have spiritual roots, how could he possibly break through?
In the end, if he could really have surgery and become a man again in the future, then maybe temporarily becoming a female cultivator wasn’t so unacceptable after all.