Daily life of a cultivation judge

"Sorry…" Yang Qing apologized as he pulled back his wayward thoughts and steadied his excitable emotions.

Wei Shen didn't press the matter. Instead, he pulled back his right sleeve, revealing his slightly tan and smooth forearm.

Despite the suddenness or strangeness of Wei Shen's actions, Yang Qing didn't seem surprised. He adjusted his posture, sitting straighter, his eyes taking on a solemn look that suggested he had expected this.

"Now, to verify my identity," Wei Shen said as the cry of an eagle echoed from his arm, spreading through the courtyard and startling every spirit beast in the area.

A glowing totem of a purple eagle appeared on Wei Shen's forearm. At first, it seemed inanimate, like a finely drawn piece of art on his skin, but then, as it fully formed, its eyes moved. Immediately, a burst of purple-golden light emanated from the eagle, bathing Wei Shen's entire arm.

The purple-gold light contained a transcendent power that made Yang Qing's heart tremble. He could sense countless laws and Daos swirling within that light. Some of those laws and Daos he could understand, but the majority of them were far beyond his comprehension.

Yang Qing sighed inwardly at the realization. Back when he was at the core formation realm, he hadn't been able to grasp anything from that light. At the time, he'd thought that if he could break through to the palace realm, he might finally understand more of it. Now that he was finally there, he found that while he could grasp a little, it was still far less than he'd hoped.

"How can they contain such a level of power within their bodies?" Yang Qing wondered.

Although he didn't know Wei Shen's exact cultivation, he guessed that he was likely a domain expert. Still, the power within that purple-golden light seemed to surpass the level of a domain expert.

Yang Qing's understanding of a domain expert's abilities was still somewhat rudimentary, but he had interacted with enough domain experts and ascendant-grade entities to have an informed baseline that this power was beyond what they wielded. His observation was reinforced by his experience with soul formation experts and saint-grade entities, as the pressure from the purple-golden light exceeded even what he had felt from some of them.

Only a few things he'd encountered even came close—specifically, the three saint-grade treasures he'd borrowed during his promotion ceremony. The auras of the Blue Universe, Veiled Destiny, and Green Cocoon had closely matched the light before him, especially the latter.

Even that wasn't the best measure, though. Yang Qing had long suspected that those three saint-grade treasures were of a different quality even when compared to others of the same grade, a suspicion that had only grown stronger as his cultivation advanced.

The purple-golden light surrounding Wei Shen's forearm was then swallowed by the purple eagle as it cawed, its cry carrying an air of majesty and profundity.

As it swallowed the light, a spirit seemed to be born in its eyes. It appeared livelier than before, almost lifelike—or rather, definitely lifelike, Yang Qing judged from the curious look it shot his way.

Yang Qing felt slightly unnerved, as it had never done that before. Thankfully, he didn't have to endure the discomfort for long; the eagle soon turned its attention away from him. Unfurling its wings, it flapped them and immediately leaped from Wei Shen's skin, as if tearing itself away, like a painting coming to life and leaping off its canvas.

A second later, the eagle perched on Wei Shen's forearm. From its feathered luster and tangible presence, Yang Qing couldn't tell it apart from a real purple eagle—it had true breadth and life.

The purple eagle tilted its head, its cold, distant gaze falling on Wei Shen, who looked slightly apprehensive under its scrutiny.

Yang Qing understood why. The pressure the eagle exerted now was a thousand times stronger than it had been when it was just a tattoo on Wei Shen's arm.

If Yang Qing himself felt this much pressure, he could only imagine how much greater it must be for Wei Shen, bearing the eagle's full attention.

Or perhaps not, he reconsidered. The purple eagle did come from him, after all. But Yang Qing abandoned this guess as soon as he noticed the tiny beads of sweat forming on Wei Shen's forehead.

A domain expert wouldn't be perspiring if they weren't under some kind of pressure, and Yang Qing was certain that his wine as potent as it was, had nothing to do with it. He'd seen almost the same reaction from other Purple Guards he'd interacted with prior, whenever such a scene unfolded.

With its cold, unblinking gaze on Wei Shen, the eagle opened its beak.

"Little Shen…" it spoke, its voice soft yet carrying the weight of the heavens.

Yang Qing's mouth fell open—it was the first time he'd ever heard it speak. Before, it would simply nod and vanish.

He'd often wondered if it could speak, and if so, what it might sound like. Whatever he'd imagined was miles from the reality of its voice.

As the eagle spoke, Yang Qing felt his palace world convulse violently. The ocean within him churned, crashing against its shores with a deafening roar, the once-calm waters now turbulent. The moon above flickered like a dying flame, casting an eerie glow, and the sun dimmed as if overwhelmed by a chaotic gloom.

At the heart of it all, the mighty tree that had stood tall and proud was shaking violently, as if it would topple at any moment. Its branches thrashed wildly, some being torn from the trunk by the relentless tremors.

Then, just as calamity seemed imminent, a gentle, ancient power within him began to flow. A delicate gold and pure white thread, interwoven, appeared at the center of the brewing whirl storm within the ocean, stabilizing it.

The intertwined threads, balanced in gold and white, rose upwards on an unseen breeze. As they reached the vast sky, they unraveled gracefully, with the golden thread drifting toward the sun and the white thread toward the moon. Both celestial bodies were instantly infused with vitality, their glow intensifying as the sun blazed with fiery radiance and the moon shimmered with a serene, ethereal light.

The brilliant light of the two bodies melded together as they descended toward the Green tree, calming its tremors and stilling its branches. With a final burst of light, peace returned to his world. Yet, Yang Qing's physical state betrayed the toll of the intense ordeal. His skin was pale, glistening with sweat as he struggled to steady his pounding heart. Whatever he had endured left him a little worse for wear.

As Yang Qing recovered, there was a glint in the purple eagle's eye, though neither he nor Wei Shen noticed it.

"It seems you're already on the cusp of reaching the soul formation realm," the eagle said, lowering its beak to preen its feathers.

"It is all thanks to Senior's guidance," Wei Shen humbly replied, slightly lowering his head as he did.

"Mmh, well, all the best when the time comes. Don't let your heart waver," the purple eagle said, sounding distracted, seemingly more interested in its feathers than the conversation.

Once done, it looked up at Wei Shen, giving him a final, evaluating glance.

"I'll be off then," it said casually before dissolving into motes of light that returned to Wei Shen's arm, where two crossed purple feathers appeared, glittering with purple runes.

Both Wei Shen and Yang Qing sighed in relief once it disappeared. Yang Qing, especially, took the chance to greedily inhale the cold air, refreshing his lungs and calming his mind.

"You did well to hold on," Wei Shen said, offering Yang Qing an appreciative smile, though he kept his surprise at Yang Qing's resilience to himself.

Few knew the true identity of that purple eagle or understood the depth of its power. Its voice alone could force a domain expert to kneel. Though what appeared here was only a specter of its true form, it was far more than a palace realm cultivator should have been able to withstand.

The first time Wei Shen met the true form of the purple eagle was as a first-stage domain expert when he interviewed for the Purple Guards. He'd passed out the instant it gazed upon him, and over the years, even though he'd become accustomed to its gaze, the fear it inspired was as fresh as that first encounter.

Mistaking Wei Shen's comment as a polite gesture to ease his embarrassment, Yang Qing smiled wryly.

"Thanks," he muttered, reaching for his wine but reconsidering when he noticed his hands still trembling.

"Who was that?" Yang Qing asked, trying to steady his shaky hands by clenching one into a fist and clasping it with the other.

Wei Shen touched his chin thoughtfully as if choosing his words carefully.

"You could consider her the master of all Purple Guards. Every Purple Guard, since the beginning, has been trained by her," he replied.