Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Sixty-Seven: A Hundred People, A Thousand Manifestations

Inside Shop No. 63, Chen Chang’an looked at the woman opposite him, whose allure stirred countless fantasies. He swallowed and asked, “Miss, may I ask what this place is? I am currently…”

Before he could finish, the woman teleported to his side, her intoxicating fragrance overwhelming him, causing his blood to surge. Her voice was lingering and gentle as she said, “Young Master Chen, don’t concern yourself with anything else. Cast aside all worries and gamble with me—what do you say?”

“If you win, I can give you anything you desire.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Chen Chang’an leaned forward, pressing the issue. “Tell me, what exactly can you give me?”

“I can give you…” The woman gazed into his eyes, and for several seconds they silently exchanged thoughts. But suddenly, as if a fast connection had lagged, she showed a strange expression, pondering for a long moment before continuing, “I can give you a villa in The Regent Residences, a Lamborghini with unrestricted license plate privileges.”

“I can make Yui Hatano your wife, provide endless wealth, and let you sit as the CEO of Alibaba. How about it?”

“You… what did you say?” Chen Chang’an stared at her in utter shock, unable to believe what he’d just heard was real. He had clearly crossed into the Great Min Dynasty—how could anyone here speak of such twenty-first-century nonsense?

Could it be that fate had brought him back home again?

No, that couldn’t be; she still wore traditional dress.

So… why?

Wait!

Chen Chang’an’s mind spun in its own peculiar way. Could the second assessment of the Black Robe Guards be aimed at testing human desires and passions, with some secret technique at the threshold conjuring illusions based on one’s deepest wishes?

For his greatest wish was, in fact, to marry that certain Miss Hatano.

“Bah!” Chen Chang’an raised both hands, pinching her rosy cheeks, squeezing again and again. “Sorry, little sister. Though I’d love to have what you mentioned—Yui Hatano, a Lamborghini—here in the Great Min Dynasty, you can’t give me any of that.”

With that, he firmly pawed at her ample chest, saying, “Damn it, all I want now is to join the Black Robe Guards.”

“No regrets in this life for entering the Black Robes!”

He then kicked open the door of Shop No. 63 with great force, glanced left and right, and finally strode toward the alley’s mouth.

Atop the lookout tower, Cheng Mulong sprang up as though springs were fitted to his feet, spilling hot tea everywhere.

Cao Wu, hearing the commotion, immediately rose and asked, “What happened?”

His trembling hand slowly pointed toward Shop No. 63, teeth chattering, “Chen… Chen… he actually emerged, and it took less than half a quarter hour, from the hardest chamber, no less.”

“What?” Cao Wu was so excited that his emotions nearly tripped him up, gripping the railing tightly, mouth agape and speechless.

Since Wang You founded the Black Robe Guards and began annual recruitment, the record for quickest completion of the Heart’s Test was two quarter hours. The candidate was hailed as a genius, fiercely sought after, and later soared in rank—though ultimately betrayed the Guards.

But Chen Chang’an had taken only half a quarter hour! How could that be?

“Impossible!” Cheng Mulong rubbed his eyes repeatedly with his big hands.

Cao Wu remained in shock, unable to extricate himself from the emotion. Even after regaining composure, he set aside curiosity about how Chen Chang’an had so easily passed the test, his tone proud: “Well? How about my appointed candidate?”

Cheng Mulong felt inexplicably uncomfortable inside—jealousy… envy… sourness… as if overturning a vat of vinegar. Why hadn’t he encountered Chen Chang’an? Why hadn’t he been a discerning talent scout?

He furrowed his brow and retorted, “What? Chen Chang’an is an appointed candidate? That can’t be—why would an appointed candidate still take the test?”

“No—impossible. Chen Chang’an is a regular examinee, and he’s a man. Once he passes, he’ll join my division.”

Page 2/3

“You… what did you say?” Cao Wu’s beautiful face was flushed with anger. “He’s my appointed candidate, and it was your suggestion for him to take the test.”

“Appointed? Who appointed him?” Cheng Mulong stubbornly played dumb. “Chen Chang’an is formally participating, and after passing, will certainly belong to my division. Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Say that again.”

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

Two surges of martial power unique to seventh-rank life-and-death experts exploded from the lookout tower, blowing the roof off. Tiles and bricks scattered and shattered on the ground.

“Damn!” Chen Chang’an shivered in fright. Who the hell dared act so recklessly on the Black Robe Guards’ turf?

…

Inside Shop No. 64, Ye Lin pushed open the door. What he saw was red fragrant candles, cut and twisted double happiness characters, a gleaming silver wine jug, a wide bed covered in gold dragon and phoenix embroidery. At the head of the bed sat a bride, her figure graceful and almost ethereal.

Ye Lin observed closely, surprised to find that the first impression felt oddly familiar.

“What’s going on? Shouldn’t I be taking the Black Robe Guards’ assessment?”

“Yes, right, it’s the assessment. So it must be some secret technique conjuring an illusion. I bear the title of Detective God—how could I be fooled?”

Muttering to himself, he stepped forward, reached the bedside, and lifted the bridal veil. Instantly, his body and bones trembled uncontrollably—astonishingly, the bride was Ruan Jingchu.

“Ruan… Ruan!” Ye Lin’s voice was soft and tender, as if he had a milk candy in his mouth.

Ruan Jingchu, sitting at the bedside in her wedding attire, parted her red lips with an “mm.”

“Ah!” Ye Lin squinted and lifted his chin, moaning in ecstasy.

…

Inside Pawnshop No. 7, Ruan Jingchu entered, holding her pale pink sword. Before her, a scroll unfurled. Initially uninterested, she glanced casually, but was soon captivated by its contents.

In the next moment, the scroll emitted a beam of clear light that pulled her inside. Ruan Jingchu felt the world spin several times as the scene transformed, finding herself in a jagged stone forest.

“This is the Eight Formations Diagram of Martial God Zhuge. From where you stand, only one path leads out—otherwise, you’ll be trapped forever in the world within this painting.”

A voice called out from the sky, explaining to her.

…

Inside Shop No. 98, Song Jiu entered and immediately saw his father, Song Jinming, locked in a fierce battle with the current Martial Alliance Leader, Zhou Yao. The two exchanged deadly moves, the sky darkening with their struggle.

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

“Pfft!”

“Swish!”

Sounds of explosions filled the air as two rays trailed long cloud tails, weaving and colliding.

“Ah!” With a cry of agony, Song Jinming’s arms flailed as he crashed to the ground, creating a deep human-shaped pit and dying instantly.

“Watch out, Father!”

Page 3/3

Song Jiu swiftly drew five shadow darts from his waist, charging at Zhou Yao with murderous intent.

…

In Shop No. 333, Lan Yingxue pushed open the door, barely having time to catch her breath, when a figure wearing a rainbow mask came fleeing toward her, shouting, “Help! Help!”

Lan Yingxue furrowed her elegant brows in confusion. “Who… who are you?”

“Help! Help!” The figure gave no answer, only continued to run frantically.

“Pfft!” Just as the masked figure was half a step from Lan Yingxue, a sword stabbed through their back, piercing the heart and emerging from the chest. The sword’s energy snapped the string, and the rainbow mask fell, revealing the true face.

“Mother? How can it be you? How can it be you?” Lan Yingxue cried out, eyes red with hatred and grief. She embraced her mother tightly, making space for others to see. She saw the one who dealt the killing blow—it was Chen Chang’an.

“You…”

“Why… why is it you?”

…

Outside in the alley, the entire lookout tower lay in ruins. The Black Robe Guards members had all retreated to distant safe spots, peeking from behind cover to watch the spectacle.

Cao Wu’s layered waves of energy continued to explode. “Chen Chang’an is my appointed candidate—do you admit it or not?”

“What appointment? He’s clearly a proper examinee. After passing, all men join my division. Chen Chang’an belongs to my roster.” Cheng Mulong’s internal strength surged again and again, overpowering Cao Wu.

Cao Wu, refusing to yield, surged back, overpowering Cheng Mulong.

Cheng Mulong’s gaze turned challenging, overpowering Cao Wu again.

Cao Wu, unable to bear it, hooked her finger. A silver spear sliced through the air from the armory window, landing steadily in her hand. She spun it, pointing it at Cheng Mulong.

Cheng Mulong argued forcefully, “If Chen Chang’an passes the test but you claim him as your subordinate by appointment, what of the Black Robe Guards’ rules? I must defend them.”

As he spoke, he drew a wolf-tooth club from beneath his robe.

“Fine, let me see what you’re capable of.”

“Then let’s fight.”

The two charged at each other, the clash of silver spear and wolf-tooth club sending dazzling sparks flying. The arc they traced expanded endlessly, shaking walls, trees, bricks, and wine flags as it passed.

“Damn!” Chen Chang’an, crouching in front of Shop No. 63, hadn’t heard their conversation, so he was astonished at the “mutual destruction” of these two top figures in Chang’an City.

“Clack!”

Meanwhile, the door to Shop No. 64 was pushed open from within. Ye Lin crawled out, pale-faced, drenched in sweat, and disheveled, panting heavily.

Chen Chang’an looked at him, his expression turning intrigued, sizing him up with playful curiosity. Was this guy intimate with the gambling girl?

Ye Lin raised his eyes, lifeless and blank: “…”