Chapter Twenty-One: Verification Complete

The atmosphere was unbearably awkward, nearly spiraling out of control. The old master’s arm froze midair, unsure what to do next. He had already barked, “Come here!”—would it kill the boy to cooperate just once?

He cleared his throat loudly to ease the tension, withdrew his arm, and hardened his expression before addressing Zhou Tian.
“Who exactly are you, and what is your purpose here?”

Zhou Tian could only look helpless as he replied,
“I really am Zhou Tian. No one’s taken over my body. Weren’t you insisting on verifying with that so-called Soul Lamp? Go on, test me already.”

He was just as baffled by his own transmigration as anyone else. In his previous life, he’d simply been walking along when, without warning, he found himself here—no lightning strike, no meteorite falling from the sky, he just appeared. Though he didn’t know the reason, he doubted some mystical lamp could truly detect it. If transmigrators could be so easily exposed, what would become of the countless others before him?

Seeing Zhou Tian’s defiant posture, the old master and his companions exchanged worried glances. Could it really not be a case of body-snatching?

“Very well, come here, then.”
After a moment’s silence, the old master beckoned Zhou Tian over. Regardless, the Soul Lamp would reveal the truth.

“I’m not going over there. You come here!”
Zhou Tian jutted out his chin, glaring back.

“And why not?”
The old master frowned, expanding his spiritual senses. The palace’s protective wards couldn’t restrain someone of his cultivation; he swept the space around Zhou Tian hundreds of times over. There were no traps.

“No real reason. I just worry someone might take the chance to smack me while my guard’s down.”
Zhou Tian muttered, throwing a sidelong glance at Zhou Yi, barely stopping short of naming him outright.

Zhou Yi’s face darkened. This was definitely not his son.

“Fine.”
The old master nodded and strode toward Zhou Tian, the glazed golden lamp hovering in his hand. Zhou Tian stood motionless, waiting until the old master drew close. Only then did he notice a transparent barrier like glass enveloping the lamp, inscribed with intricate patterns through which faint golden light flickered.

Stopping before Zhou Tian, the old master raised the lamp between them, its gentle radiance spilling forth.
Gazing at the golden lamp, Zhou Tian felt an inexplicable intimacy, as if it were an extension of his very being.

Sensing this familiarity, Zhou Tian’s nerves eased. He still suspected that, due to the mysterious nature of his transmigration, the lamp wouldn’t expose him, but he couldn’t help feeling a touch of anxiety. Even if the test failed and he were unmasked, he still had a chance to escape. Yet with his current status and background, a single command was enough to resolve any issue—so much more comfortable than fleeing and having to handle everything himself. Besides…

His eyes flickered to Tian Ling, who still lay unconscious thanks to the Emperor. He had a lovely young wife here—what a pity it would be to leave.

While Zhou Tian’s inner monologue ran wild, the old master wasted no words. Power surged around him as the golden lamp began spinning rapidly, the protective shell shining with golden light as lines of arcane script surfaced.

The Soul Lamp was forged from the innate energy a baby brought from the womb—utterly pure and incapable of being contaminated. Thus, it was sealed by secret arts. One by one, the old master drew out threads of script from the protective shield. Originally, the lamp was made purely to indicate whether its owner lived or died—verifying the soul’s identity was only a later byproduct. As a result, the lamp’s defenses were fiendishly complex; even the old master, seasoned as he was, broke out in a sweat.

Zhou Tian stared, entranced, at the display of magical brilliance, filled with envy. He, too, wished he could soar through the heavens, wield thunder, and overturn the cosmos. But cultivation was beyond him. Even if it weren’t, he doubted he could master it. In his predecessor’s memories, he’d seen those so-called cultivation manuals; they were even more cryptic than the Dao De Jing. What use was that? Far better to rely on his own supernatural cheat.

After some time, the old master finally unraveled the lamp’s outer seal. The shield dissolved into a stream of light and vanished, revealing itself to be a dense array of runes rather than a physical barrier. Now, with the ward undone, the lamp was exposed.

In the moment the shield disappeared, a wisp of clear energy appeared in the old master’s hand, encasing the tiny flame that hovered in the void.

He looked to Zhou Tian and explained,
“This was crafted from a strand of your innate essence—the purest part of your origin. If you are truly Zhou Tian, it will merge of its own accord with your soul. It will do you neither harm nor benefit.”

The Soul Lamp was indeed a marvel. No matter where you were, the instant your soul perished, the lamp would extinguish itself. Even its creators could not fully explain its working. Only in Zhou Tian’s former world might something like “quantum entanglement” offer a faint explanation.

“Go ahead, then.”

Zhou Tian spread his arms in surrender. The old master guided the flame toward Zhou Tian’s forehead, gradually dispersing the protective energy. The soft glow bathed Zhou Tian’s face. Now exposed to the world, the flame’s light dimmed, tainted by the world’s impurity.

Zhou Yi and the Emperor watched unblinking. The old master’s hands danced with runes and golden light. In his grasp, a tiny golden spear appeared, barely the length of a thumb, vibrating with such intensity it seemed to pierce through reality. If anything went amiss, the spear would be driven directly through Zhou Tian’s brow.

The flame flickered, growing weaker as it drifted, but before it could be snuffed out, it entered Zhou Tian’s forehead.

Zhou Tian felt nothing more than a subtle presence slipping into his soul—then nothing at all.

A cool draft swept through. The chamber lapsed into uncanny silence.

The old master, clearly embarrassed, dismissed the golden spear from his hand and wiped his palms as if to hide the fact that the dazzling weapon had ever been there.

The Emperor barked a series of commands, and the ranks of guards surrounding the Hall of Nurtured Hearts melted away. All the wards were withdrawn.

Zhou Yi breathed a deep sigh of relief. Thank goodness—his son was still his son, though he still felt an urge to throttle him.

Zhou Tian looked around and asked,
“Is the test finished?”

The old master burst into laughter, slapping Zhou Tian’s shoulder.
“It is the Zhou family’s greatest fortune to have such an outstanding young talent as yourself!”

With that, he vanished, leaving only the Emperor and Zhou Yi behind. Staying any longer would only be awkward.

As for the source of Zhou Tian’s abilities, that no longer mattered. As long as Zhou Tian remained Zhou Tian, a member of the Zhou family, that was enough. Perhaps some great Daoist master had taken a liking to him and bestowed a wondrous fate upon him.

As for the possibility of the Soul Lamp being wrong—such a thing was impossible. Forged from innate energy, even a being of the Heavenly Sovereign realm, whose very essence had transcended its original form, would be recognized by the lamp.