Andrew Warren really did take everyone to that kind of place, and fifty taels of silver were simply not enough to cover the expenses.

This shows Emily Thompson's thoughtfulness.

At this moment, the chief constable had already assigned the various probationary constables to their posts and read out the assignments to everyone. Just as he was about to let the hundred or so people disperse, suddenly a group of people hurriedly passed through the round archway and came this way.

"Gregory Brooks, don't let them leave yet!"

Among the group, the second in line—a tall man in a constable's black uniform—suddenly spoke out.

Chief constable Gregory Brooks dared not be negligent and told the crowd, who were about to disperse, to wait a moment, then quickly walked toward the group.

As he drew near and saw the clothes on the elderly man at the head of the group, his expression changed and became even more respectful: "Immortal Master, your esteemed presence honors us. I failed to greet you from afar, please forgive me..." George Newton spoke nervously, but the old man he addressed as 'Immortal Master' didn't even look at him, directly passing by and entering the field.

The old man wore a Daoist robe of black and yellow, a Daoist crown on his head, and a peachwood sword on his back.

Just from this attire, his identity was clear.

"A Daoist cultivator!"

Eric Clark looked faintly excited and said in a low voice, then sternly addressed the group of youths behind him, "Stand up straight!"

A cultivator!

Hearing what Eric Clark said, Andrew Warren's heart skipped a beat, and he looked up at the old man standing in the field.

Aside from his unusual attire, he was just a thin, stern little old man.

He didn't even seem as imposing as the six constable escorts behind him.

Andrew Warren also knew that appearances could be deceiving.

He only glanced once, then lowered his eyes and stood still.

Just then, the old Daoist's voice sounded in his ear: "I have come to seek a seedling with the root for cultivation, to take as my disciple.

This is a great opportunity; you must seize it well.

Calm your minds, and let me see if any among you possess even a bit of aptitude for cultivation."

As the old Daoist finished speaking, a faint stir ran through the crowd.

Andrew Warren glanced sideways and saw several companions with flushed faces, clenching their fists, their bodies trembling slightly.

Even when they made it into the top ten of the appointment exam, he had never seen his companions so excited.

Compared to becoming a disciple of a great cultivator, an appointment as a constable in a provincial yamen was nothing.

Cultivators truly were beings above the mundane world.

The old Daoist took in everyone's reactions.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, a trace of a cold smile appearing. He took a talisman from his sleeve, traced some marks on the yellow paper with his right hand, and said, "Go!"

Whoosh!

The yellow talisman ignited without fire, flames spreading outward, and in an instant, it formed a silver mirror.

The old Daoist's fingers seemed connected to the silver mirror; as his fingers moved, the mirror floated in midair.

It swept over the excited faces of the youths one by one.

Each time the silver mirror reflected a face, a faint white light appeared within.

For the vast majority, the white light was just a thin layer; occasionally, someone would have a white light that extended three feet from the mirror, like a low-wattage light bulb.

Even those who could emit a light bulb-like glow failed to impress the old Daoist, who shook his head in disappointment again and again.

Seeing the silver mirror conjured by the talisman had such a marvelous use, Andrew Warren grew a bit curious.

He wondered what kind of light the spiritual mirror would show when it shone on him.

Would it be the same as the others, just white light?

He braced himself, closed his eyes like the others, gathered his spirit, and prepared to use the silver mirror to test his own 'cultivation aptitude.'

The silver mirror swept over and shone on Andrew Warren's head and face.

Suddenly, he felt extremely uncomfortable, as if some unknown presence was peering into him.

As soon as this feeling arose, Andrew Warren's hair stood on end, and a strong urge to resist being scrutinized surged up.

He clenched his fists tightly.

He distinctly felt an intangible force surge from within him, striking directly at the silver mirror!

The silver mirror shining on Andrew Warren's face suddenly trembled for a moment, turned black, and not a single trace of white light appeared.

This situation was rare even for the old Daoist, who couldn't help but remark, "Is there really someone with absolutely no aptitude for cultivation?"

With that, he paid no more attention to Andrew Warren and continued to examine the spiritual mirror.

The mirror quickly swept past a few more people, and finally shone on Andrew Warren's childhood friend, -Emily Thompson.

A layer of hazy white light appeared in the mirror.

Like a high-wattage incandescent bulb.

The old Daoist raised his eyebrows slightly at this.

Among all the youths, this one's aptitude was the highest.

But even so, it still did not meet his requirements.

He shook his head and was about to withdraw the precious mirror, when suddenly streaks of red light burst forth from within, tearing the mirror into nothingness!

The old Daoist was momentarily stunned, then overjoyed, and exclaimed, "Excellent!"

Truly, when all seems lost, a new path appears.

This youth's aptitude was the highest he had ever seen in his life!

"What is your name? From now on, you are my disciple!"

The old Daoist hurried over to Emily Thompson.

All the constables rushed to follow, crowding around Emily Thompson.

All sorts of compliments and praise instantly filled the air.

"Hahaha, congratulations to Master Tang on gaining an excellent disciple!"