I Was Forced to Marry a “Trash” Cultivator, But She Turned Out to Be a Reborn Empress!

Swoosh—

The blinding white light faded, leaving the group suspended in an infinite, starless void.

Fifteen [Mystic Jade Dao Platforms] floated in the emptiness. Each platform emitted a hazy, ethereal glow, their surfaces etched with ancient, flowing patterns that pulsed with a rhythm as old as time itself.

“A Heart-Questioning Formation?” Lei Yingjie’s eyes lit up with excitement, his purple robes snapping in the invisible wind. “Interesting!”

Zhou Fengxing smiled, running his thumb along the shaft of his rune brush. “Using Dao platforms to question the heart… certainly more sophisticated than a common illusion array.”

Qiu Ruoli stepped forward, white lotuses blooming beneath her feet with each graceful stride. “A perfect opportunity to verify my Dao Heart.”

Far from being intimidated, the prodigies were eager. To them, this wasn’t a danger; it was a stage. They were the chosen ones, the geniuses of the Azure Province. Facing their true selves was not a trial—it was a confirmation of their greatness.

Dong—

A deep, resonant bell toll echoed through the void. The fifteen platforms flared with blinding brilliance.

“Ascend the platform to question the Dao. Illuminate your true heart.”

Before the ancient voice could fade, Lei Yingjie had already moved. He transformed into a streak of purple lightning, crashing onto the nearest platform. “My Dao Heart is like thunder! Why should I conceal it?”

Zhou Fengxing tapped his brush against the air, stepping onto golden characters that formed a staircase to his chosen platform. “The Talisman Dao is my heart!”

Qiu Ruoli floated upward, borne by a giant white lotus. “The Pure World White Lotus is the reflection of my soul.”

One by one, the prodigies claimed their spots. Sword Qi crisscrossed the void; flames roared; golden light shimmered. They treated the Heart-Questioning Trial like a grand debate, eager to prove their superiority.

In the midst of the fanfare, Shen Xing walked slowly toward a platform.

Compared to the eager excitement of the others, he was an island of calm. His deep, abyssal eyes held a detachment that bordered on arrogance. On the path to Immortality, he believed no one could hinder him.

He feared no man, no beast, and certainly no reflection of his own heart.

He sat cross-legged on the cold jade. Spiritual light enveloped him, and the world faded away.

Shen Xian also took his seat on a platform. He closed his eyes, and reality shifted.

He stood before the Shen Family Ancestral Hall.

Hundreds of elders knelt before him, their foreheads touching the dust. “We respectfully welcome the Family Head to ascend the throne!”

In this illusion, the Shen Family was at the apex of its glory. Resources were piled like mountains—Spirit Stones, pills, artifacts. With a single nod, he could command it all. He would hold supreme power over the region.

“A cheap trick,” Shen Xian sneered. “You dare try to shake my Dao Heart with this?”

These were things he could already obtain with a flick of his wrist. Even if they were real, he wouldn’t lose himself in them.

Thanks to the [Mystic Essence True Congealing Art], his mind remained clear. He saw the illusion for what it was—hollow.

The vision shifted.

New temptations appeared. Peerless cultivation techniques floated before him. Rare treasures that could cause wars. The secret to eternal youth.

Shen Xian watched them pass like clouds drifting over a mountain.

“This Heart-Questioning trial… isn’t it a bit too simple?” he thought, frowning.

He had faced inner demons before. This felt weak. The lightning tribulation outside had been terrifying, capable of erasing a Soul Formation cultivator. Why was the second trial so toothless?

He didn’t have time to ponder. The scene shattered and reformed.

He was standing in a blood-red wasteland.

Demon clouds blotted out the sun, churning like a bruised ocean. Countless grotesque shadows writhed within the gloom. The earth beneath his feet was cracked and bleeding magma. In the distance, the shrill, desperate wails of humanity echoed without end.

“Submit, and you may live.”

The voice boomed like ten thousand peals of thunder, vibrating through Shen Xian’s marrow.

A giant hand, large enough to cover the sky, descended slowly. Space crumbled beneath its palm. The sheer Pressure made Shen Xian’s skeleton creak, threatening to snap his spine.

It felt terrifyingly real.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He looked around. Humans were being slaughtered, devoured, and enslaved.

“Immortal Venerable, for our sake, please submit!”

“If you don’t kneel, humanity has no hope!”

Voices of human powerhouses—men he might have respected—filled his mind, begging him to surrender.

Shen Xian’s expression didn’t flicker. He wiped the blood from his lip and looked up at the descending hand.

“Submit?”

He laughed cold and sharp.

“I’d rather die.”

He leaped into the air, charging straight toward the palm that promised extinction.

Boom!

Darkness swallowed him.

The next moment, Shen Xian opened his eyes.

He was back on the bronze floor of the Treasure Pavilion, standing exactly where he had been before the teleportation.

“I was… eliminated?”

Shen Xian blinked, surprised.

He looked around. The massive hall was empty.

I’m the first one out?

He felt a twinge of confusion. His performance in the illusion had been flawless. He hadn’t wavered for a second. Was it because he chose to fight the unbeatable hand instead of submitting?

“Forget it. Gaining it is my fortune; losing it is fate.”

Shen Xian shook his head, dismissing the disappointment. Even if he had to do it a thousand times, he would still punch that giant hand in the face. That was his Dao.

Besides, the Mysterious Turtle in his dantian wasn’t reacting to this place. The real treasure lay elsewhere. If this ancient inheritance wasn’t meant for him, so be it.

Just as he settled his thoughts, another flash of light erupted nearby.

Shen Xing appeared.

The two “brothers” locked eyes. A flicker of mutual surprise passed between them.

Big Brother is out too? Shen Xian raised an eyebrow. With his cultivation and mental fortitude, he shouldn’t have failed.

Then, flash after flash lit up the room.

Lei Yingjie, Zhou Fengxing, Qiu Ruoli—one by one, the prodigies appeared, stumbling slightly as they materialized.

Every face wore the same expression: disbelief.

“Impossible!” Lei Yingjie roared, purple lightning crackling in his eyes. “My Dao Heart is like iron! How could I fail?”

Zhou Fengxing gripped his brush so hard his knuckles turned white. “I clearly… I broke through it…”

Qiu Ruoli’s white lotus trembled. For the first time, her cool, detached facade cracked. The pain of missing a great Fated Chance was etched on her face.

The prodigies looked at each other, the atmosphere heavy with confusion.

Logic dictated that in a Heart-Questioning trial, the faster you woke up, the better your result. But everyone here had been kicked out.

Shen Xing stood silently, his brow furrowed.

In his abyssal eyes, a rare ripple of doubt surfaced.

It shouldn’t be like this.

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the jade pendant at his waist—a habit from his childhood whenever a puzzle stumped him.

There is no trial in this world I cannot pass.

He was the Holy Son. Blessed by the ancestors. A half-step Nascent Soul before the age of a hundred. He had walked through fire and blood without flinching.

My Dao Heart is unbreakable.

Shen Xing closed his eyes, replaying the illusion frame by frame.

The moment the Demon Race descended… he had felt something off. The demonic aura hadn’t felt like a test. It felt… wrong.

His eyes snapped open, blazing with insight.

This Heart-Questioning trial wasn’t testing our resolve at all.

But if it wasn’t a test of will, what was it? Even the smartest man in the Azure Province couldn’t see the answer.

Around them, the whispers began.

“Shen Xing is out. Lei Yingjie is out. Who passed?”

“Look around. Who’s missing?”

The group scanned the room. The realization hit them simultaneously.

Liu Wanduo and three insignificant Rogue Cultivators were missing.

“Are you telling me… they passed?”

Curiosity and indignation warred in the air.

Time dragged on.

Lei Yingjie paced like a caged tiger. “Mere Rogue Cultivators are worthy of the inheritance? Ridiculous!”

Qiu Ruoli stood silently, watching her rotating lotus, trying to understand why the “trash” had succeeded where the geniuses had failed.

Shen Xian leaned against a bronze pillar, looking bored. In reality, he was watching Shen Xing.

The Holy Son hadn’t spoken a word since reappearing. He was deep in thought, his expression grave.

He figured it out too, Shen Xian mused. Whatever is happening here, it’s not normal.

Just as the tension reached its peak, space twisted.

A hunched, withered figure materialized from the void.

“Hahaha!”

Liu Wanduo threw his head back and laughed, his voice a rasping cackle of pure ecstasy. His wrinkled face was twisted in a rictus of delight.

A faint, heavy Pressure radiated from him. His cloudy eyes now glowed with a sinister crimson light.

Most shocking of all, his cultivation had skyrocketed.

He was now a half-step Nascent Soul.

Behind him, the three Rogue Cultivators appeared, heads hanging low in dejection.

The winner was clear.

The crowd stared in shock. The old vulture had actually done it?