Chapter 146: Ranking

When Mo Hua saw Mister Zhuang again, his little face carried a faint air of grievance.

“Sir, didn’t you say there was a threshold?”

Mister Zhuang smiled lazily. “There is. You might’ve just stepped over it without realizing.”

“So… does that mean I’m a First-Rank Array Master now?”

“Not that simple.”

Mister Zhuang adjusted his position on the bamboo chair, lying back more comfortably as he explained,

“Being able to draw nine array runes only means you’ve reached the threshold of the First Rank. You still need to study more, draw more, and learn more First-Rank formations. Only when you’ve completely mastered the method of forming nine array runes in a single thought can you truly possess the strength of a First-Rank Array Master.”

Mo Hua caught the hidden meaning in his words. “So, having the strength of a First-Rank Array Master isn’t the same as having the title of one?”

Mister Zhuang nodded. “That title is decided by the Dao Court.”

“The Dao Court? Not the Dao Court Division?”

“The Dao Court Division is under the Dao Court’s jurisdiction. There aren’t any real Array Masters there—how could they have the authority to assign ranks?”

Mister Zhuang’s gaze deepened as he continued,

“The Dao Court is located in Dao Prefecture, the very center of the Nine Provinces. It has seven pavilions, each named after a star of the Seven Stars. Among them, the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion is responsible for determining the rank of all Array Masters above the First Rank across the Nine Provinces. Every few years, the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion dispatches cultivators to the various prefectures to evaluate and assign ranks.”

“Heavenly Pivot Pavilion…”

Mo Hua’s heart trembled.

The Dao Court stood lofty and unreachable, and this was the first time he’d even heard of the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion.

“Is it very difficult to be ranked?” Mo Hua couldn’t help but ask.

Mister Zhuang nodded. “Quite difficult—partly because of the test, and partly because of the quota.”

Mo Hua didn’t quite understand.

Mister Zhuang elaborated, “The test depends on your formation skill. The quota depends on your connections.”

Mo Hua frowned. “So the ranking of an Array Master isn’t purely based on skill—it depends on connections too?”

Mister Zhuang gave a faint, disdainful smile. “The ranking is supposed to be based on skill. But those who judge your skill are people—and anything involving people naturally involves connections.”

“What kind of connections?”

“Well, either you come from a powerful family, or your parents are exceptional, or you simply have plenty of spirit stones. Grease the right palms, and connections appear naturally.”

Mo Hua froze. Then didn’t that mean that a wandering cultivator like him—with no power, no influence, and few spirit stones—might never get ranked?

He asked timidly, “Then… do casual cultivators ever get a quota?”

“It’s not like there are none—there’ll always be a few. Whether you’re chosen or not, though, depends on fate.”

To say it “depends on fate” was really just another way of saying it depends on luck.

Mo Hua frowned. “If that’s the case, wouldn’t all Array Masters come from noble clans and great sects? Wouldn’t that cause a break among the lower cultivators?”

Mister Zhuang’s eyes grew meaningful as he said calmly,

“Exactly.”

Mo Hua froze, a chill creeping up from his heart.

Mister Zhuang gently rubbed his hair. “These are all worldly matters—don’t let them trouble you too much.”

But Mo Hua couldn’t help worrying. After a moment, he asked softly,

“Then, Sir… what if I’m unlucky and never manage to get ranked?”

Mister Zhuang slowly sat up. The lazy air vanished from his eyes, replaced with a hint of sharpness. A quiet majesty radiated from his calm tone:

“An Array Master seeks the Dao of Heaven, comprehends the truths of all things—he is not defined by worldly measures, nor judged by mortal hands.”

“The Dao Court may set ranks—but what they define are ranks of power and privilege.”

“What an Array Master should truly seek is not the rank of authority, but the character of the Great Dao itself.”

Mo Hua’s heart shook violently. For a moment, his Divine-Sense felt clearer than ever, and his mind opened as though light had flooded in.

“Thank you for your guidance, Sir.”

He stood and bowed deeply.

Mister Zhuang nodded, then said casually, “Still, if you can, you should go get ranked by the Dao Court.”

“Ah?” Mo Hua blinked.

“When the Dao Court acknowledges your rank, your status changes. Your words carry more weight, things get easier to handle, and random riffraff won’t dare jump around in front of you. Plus, they give out spirit stones for free—why not take them?”

Mo Hua was struck speechless again. So Mister Zhuang was… rather practical after all.

“What if I still can’t get ranked?” Mo Hua asked softly.

Mister Zhuang shot him a sidelong glance. “Don’t rush.”

“Don’t rush to get ranked?”

“Even if you can’t, don’t rush.”

“Uh…”

“You’re still so young,” Mister Zhuang said. “Those taking the evaluation with you will mostly be middle-aged cultivators or gray-haired elders. They’re the ones anxious—not you.”

“Oh.” Thinking about it that way, Mo Hua felt much lighter.

“But what if I still never get ranked?” he pressed.

Mister Zhuang couldn’t help ruffling his hair again. “If that happens, just go get ranked as a Second-Rank Array Master directly.”

Mo Hua froze. “Second Rank?”

“The First Rank is tightly controlled. The Second isn’t. The Heavenly Pivot Pavilion isn’t full of fools—blocking people at the First Rank is one thing, but at the Second Rank, the gap in skill is too obvious. An Array Master capable of reaching Second Rank, even without noble lineage, is no ordinary person. The Heavenly Pivot Pavilion wouldn’t dare slight you.”

Mister Zhuang smirked. “If you truly reach the level of a Second-Rank Array Master, yet the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion still refuses to rank you—you could stand at their gate, point at their plaque, and call their Grand Elders blind fools.”

Mo Hua whispered, “What’s the cultivation level of the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion’s Grand Elders?”

“That’s hard to say… but at the very least, Profound-Hollow-Void.”

Mo Hua’s jaw dropped. Profound-Hollow-Void? He’d never even heard of that realm.

He looked up at Mister Zhuang and asked quietly, “Sir… you haven’t actually cursed at one of their Grand Elders before, have you?”

Standing at their gate, shouting insults—it sounded awfully specific.

“I never curse people,” Mister Zhuang said calmly.

Mo Hua eyed him up and down.

With his immortal bearing and graceful poise, even lying down he exuded an effortless elegance.

He doesn’t look like someone who curses people, Mo Hua thought, but who knows what really happened.

Then he felt a light tap on his head.

“Are you making up stories about me in your head again?”

Mo Hua grinned sheepishly, then asked,

“But, Sir… if I want to become a Second-Rank Array Master, that’ll take forever, won’t it?”

Mister Zhuang said, “The First Rank is difficult, and there’s only one tier. But the Second Rank is divided into three—low, middle, and high. Each step up represents a vast difference in skill.”

He looked at Mo Hua. “With your ability, once you reach Foundation Establishment, it shouldn’t be hard to become a low-tier Second-Rank Array Master, as long as you put in the effort.”

Mo Hua’s spirits lifted immediately. A new goal glimmered before him.

But a question still lingered. “Why is the Second Rank divided into three tiers, but not the First?”

By Mister Zhuang’s logic, even the First Rank could’ve been divided.

Apprentices and unranked Array Masters could be considered low or mid-tier, while those acknowledged as First-Rank would be the high-tier.

“Why do you think?” Mister Zhuang asked.

Mo Hua frowned in thought. “Because… of the threshold?”

Mister Zhuang nodded. “The higher the threshold, the fewer who can cross it.”