The two of them chatted as they walked, soon arriving at the foot of Phoenixcrest Mountain.
A crowd had already gathered there—drawn by Evan Yang over the past few days, as well as those who originally intended to come.
Evan Yang's arrival immediately caught their attention. They surrounded him, asking if what he'd said at Mortal's Rest was true.
"Of course it's true. Someone has already opened the road." Evan Yang smiled. At this moment, his divine sense had already swept up the mountain and spotted some family retainers, though he wasn't sure if they'd try to stop them.
"Really? That's great! When can we go up?" someone asked eagerly.
"Just wait a bit longer. We'll head up soon," Evan Yang replied. He exchanged glances with Sienna Rivers, and when the crowd grew impatient, Evan Yang finally said, "Let's go."
Everyone was overjoyed and quickly gathered around Evan Yang. Sienna Rivers stood at his side, so the whole group moved up the mountain in a shockingly unified procession.
Halfway up, they encountered guards posted along the path. Some timid folks retreated to the back, while the bolder ones lined up beside Evan Yang.
They'd expected the guards to drive the mortals away, but instead the guards only glared at them, then reluctantly stayed at their posts.
Seeing that the guards really made no move, Evan Yang grew even more curious about the special status of Sienna Rivers beside him.
Seeing that no one stopped them, everyone just kept walking. After that first experience, the next time they ran into other family retainers on the way up, they handled it a lot more naturally.
At the very top, a huge crowd had already gathered—especially the Fenn Family, who had dozens of people there. Other families and sects brought hundreds more. Evan Yang’s group alone had over a hundred, so altogether there were four or five hundred people.
When those people saw the mortals, they stood right at the front, blocking the way and refusing to let them pass.
Everyone was furious, but they had to hold back. After all, these were cultivators with real power—mortals couldn’t compete with them. Making it to the summit was already a big deal.
Besides them, a bunch of people were sitting around—obviously family and sect representatives. Second Young Master Fenn from the Fenn Family sat right at the front. He’d been in a good mood, but seeing so many mortals made him annoyed, his face turning sour.
He even muttered, "Seriously, why are mortals allowed up here?"
The others felt the same way, but nobody spoke up—it was like they’d been ordered to keep quiet. Watching their every move, Evan Yang figured the woman beside him must have had a big influence.
The front spots were already taken, so the mortals who came later could only stand at the back. After waiting a while, some just sat down. Evan Yang and Sienna Rivers copied them, making themselves look more like ordinary folks.
The cultivators blushed, feeling like these people were way too casual.
The leaders sitting off to the side looked even more embarrassed, like their status had dropped a notch.
Seeing their faces, Evan Yang couldn’t help but think, "I used to be a mortal too. Now that I’ve got some cultivation, I’m looking down on people?"
Ever since living as a mortal, Evan Yang suddenly realized that in the eyes of mortals, cultivators are like this—and in the eyes of cultivators, mortals are like that.
The two worlds were completely different. After waiting half a day, some mortals started pulling out their dry rations and munching away.
The cultivators were so mad they wanted to kick them off the mountain, but the leaders had ordered not to touch the mortals—or else whoever did would get crippled. Nobody knew why, but everyone kept quiet, just staring in disbelief while the leaders closed their eyes and pretended not to see.
Evan Yang glanced around, then grinned and pulled out some flatbread he’d prepared at the inn the night before. "Want a piece?" he asked.
"I’m not hungry. You eat," the woman replied, shaking her head after looking at the greasy bread.
Evan Yang figured she wouldn’t eat it—especially with her hands so soft and white. If they got oily, she couldn’t just wipe them on the grass like the others.
So Evan Yang ate by himself. Just after he finished, an old man with white hair appeared in front of the crowd, a gourd at his waist and a blade of grass at his lips.
"Wine Immortal!" the crowd cheered.
Evan Yang had never seen the Wine Immortal before, so he sized him up curiously. The old man’s outfit was simple, just like a regular elder among mortals.
The old man scanned the crowd and laughed, "I never thought taking disciples would attract so many people. Not bad."
"Wine Immortal, why are you suddenly taking disciples? If you do, our Fenn Family won’t get your good wine anymore," Second Young Master Fenn said, trying to be polite.
The other families and sects all stepped forward to persuade him, even urging him not to take disciples and just keep brewing wine.
But everyone knew that wasn’t what they really thought. If the Wine Immortal took disciples, the benefits would go to whoever got chosen, so everyone wanted their own people picked.
"Alright, enough with the polite talk. Today I’m here to take disciples, not listen to your chatter," the old man said with a grin.
Called out by the old man, everyone dropped the polite talk and switched to another approach.
"Wine Immortal, look at all the people our Fenn Family brought for you to choose from. Make sure to pick a few good ones," Second Young Master Fenn said with a smile.
The rest refused to be outdone.
Only the mortals were blocked by those in front and could only wait at the back.
Evan Yang used his divine sense and Thousand-Mile Echo to keep an eye on the front.
"No way, right?" Second Young Master Fenn frowned immediately. That'd be a huge blow to everyone's morale—especially since he brought so many people. If not a single one makes it, it means the Fenn Family will never get wine brewed by the Wine Immortal again. That'd be even more tragic than if the Wine Immortal never took disciples at all. So no matter what, he had to get at least one person through.
The others exchanged glances, then all started to persuade him, but it was useless—everything would go according to the trial results.
This chapter isn't finished yet~ Please click next page to read the rest!
"Time's short. Right behind me is an array made entirely from wine. If anyone can walk out within half an hour, that's a success—they'll be my disciple." The old man grinned, then pointed behind him. White mist already blocked the view, hiding whatever lay beyond.
"Wine Immortal, what if someone's a formation expert? Wouldn't they just break through easily?" a cultivator asked.
"Don't worry, this is a wine array. It might look like a formation, but it's different. If anyone tries to break it using formation techniques, I'll know right away—and they'll be disqualified on the spot." The old man smiled confidently.
Hearing that, those who knew a bit about formations gave up on the idea.
Once everyone understood, the old man smiled, "Go on in. Anyone who comes out in half an hour passes." Then he stepped aside.
The crowd rushed inside, followed by the mortals. Evan Yang and the young woman naturally blended in with the group.
As soon as they entered, everyone found themselves in different places. Each person saw endless rows of wine jars stretching out of sight.
The jars released waves of fragrance, making people want to rush over and drink. Some folks were quickly overwhelmed by the scent, feeling as if they'd gotten drunk.
Most of the mortals had already collapsed, though a few managed to tough it out.
As for the cultivators, once they realized something was wrong, they quickly tried to stop breathing in the fumes.
Outside, nobody had any idea what was happening inside, so everyone was getting anxious.
"Wine Immortal, what's really inside there?" Second Young Master Fenn stepped forward with a smile.
The others all strained to listen, but the old man just smiled and said nothing, leaving them fuming and helpless.
Evan Yang wasn't fazed by the wine vapor at all. He just thought it smelled nice, and it even felt like he was actually drinking—his whole body was warm and relaxed.
"Just sniffing wine can make you feel warm? What kind of wine array did the Wine Immortal set up here?" Evan Yang wondered, surprised.
Right now, Evan Yang didn't dare use any spiritual power, worried he'd blow his cover, so he could only grit his teeth and study the wine jars.
Not only that, but the wine jars stretched on forever—it really felt like he was in a world made entirely of wine jars.
"This wine array really isn't simple. It's a tenth-rank array for sure," Evan Yang muttered. "If I wanted to break it, I could get out, but I'm not allowed to. Guess I'll just have to walk out the normal way."
But with no end in sight, how was he supposed to walk out? Evan Yang started to worry.
Just as he was muttering to himself, the wine vapor kept thickening, like it was trying to knock him out right there.
At the same time, a giant wine jar appeared not far ahead, with what looked like a tunnel-shaped exit floating above it.
"This must be it," Evan Yang muttered, then started heading that way—basically sprinting.
The vapor seeped in through every pore, merging into his bloodstream. The longer he stayed, the more vapor got in, so the alcohol content kept rising. By this point, most people were dizzy—unless they were serious drinkers or had special physiques.
Evan Yang was definitely the latter. Once the vapor entered his blood, it was slowly neutralized by the pale green liquid there, eventually becoming part of his blood. Not only that, some impurities were expelled as vapor through his mouth.
So every few steps, Evan Yang would burp, his mouth full of wine aroma.
"Weird—I didn't drink anything, but just smelling this wine vapor makes me burp?" Evan Yang couldn't believe it, and he was glad he hadn't collapsed like the others.
Everyone else wasn't so lucky. The cultivators, even though they held their breath, had wine vapor seeping in through every tiny pore—and it happened fast. In the end, it was just like getting drunk: they fell over and passed out.
A few were expert drinkers, used to booze and with strong immunity, so they managed to keep going—but even then, they started to feel woozy and staggered all over the place.
Some cultivators tried using spiritual energy shields, but those didn't help. The vapor fused right into the shields, then seeped inside. No matter how careful they were, it was useless—they couldn't hold out for long before collapsing.