The air in the plaza shifted. The clanging of the combat arena faded, replaced by a hushed, contemplative atmosphere. Mingyue, along with the now significantly reduced pool of applicants, was directed towards another section. This area was vast, enclosed by shimmering spiritual barriers, and dominated by a sight that made her physicist’s brain hum with a strange, familiar excitement.

Before them, etched into the polished stone ground, was a massive, glowing array. It wasn’t just geometric; it was organic, intricate, a fusion of complex mandalas spiraling outwards, each pattern fracturing into smaller, identical versions of itself, like an infinitely receding fractal. Lines of pure spiritual light pulsed through it, shifting colors with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

A different Elder, this one with an austere face framed by a precisely trimmed beard, stood beside the array. His voice, calm and resonant, carried clearly. “This is the Test of Comprehension. The Labyrinth of Interconnected Principles. Your task is not to activate this formation, but to understand it. To identify its purpose, its flaws, and its core principles.”

He gestured to a smaller, identical fractal mandala projection floating above the main array. “That is the standard. This,” he swept his hand over the ground array, “is incomplete. You have one hour. Cultivators, begin.”

Mingyue felt a surge of adrenaline, not of fear, but of pure, intellectual challenge. “Finally,” she muttered, a grin tugging at her lips. “Something I can actually think my way through!” This was her turf. This was a puzzle.

She watched the other applicants. Many frowned, looking utterly bewildered. Some tried to trace lines with their fingers, muttering about ‘qi flow’ or ‘spiritual nodes,’ but quickly got lost in the intricate patterns. A few, more audacious, tried to pour their own qi into sections of the array, only for the energy to fizzle out or rebound harmlessly. They were trying to brute-force a solution that required finesse.

Mingyue internally chuckled. “It’s like they’re trying to debug a quantum computer with a hammer.” She recognized the pattern. This wasn’t about raw power; it was about systems, logic, and patterns. Her “exam-taking” persona clicked into high gear. Her advanced calculus, her understanding of fractal geometry, her training in diagnosing complex biological systems—all of it seemed to converge here. “Unless it’s an advanced physics problem,” she mused, “most of my modern knowledge probably is useless. But this… this is different. This is a system.”

She moved closer to the array, her amethyst eyes scanning the glowing lines. She didn’t touch it. Instead, she began to analyze. She looked for repeating motifs, for breaks in symmetry, for points where energy converged or diverged. It was like a circuit diagram, but instead of electrons, it flowed with spiritual qi. It was like a diagnostic flowchart, but for the fundamental principles of the universe.

Her mind worked in a way most cultivators wouldn’t. They thought in terms of elements, meridians, and Dao concepts. She thought in terms of inputs, outputs, feedback loops, and logical fallacies. She could see the elegance, the underlying mathematical beauty, but also the subtle, deliberate imperfections.

She began to trace the lines in the air with her finger, following the flow of energy. The outer layers were perfectly symmetrical, a dazzling display of interconnectedness. But as she moved towards the core, she found it. A subtle deviation. A single line that should have branched but continued straight. A node that should have been a convergence point, but was a dead end.

It wasn’t a flaw in the design itself, but an intentional omission, a missing piece that rendered the entire, intricate system unstable. It was a test of pattern recognition and deduction.

“It’s a foundational array for qi purification,” she murmured, almost to herself, her eyes still fixed on the glowing lines. “But it’s designed to siphon rather than purify, because this primary feedback loop,” she pointed to a specific segment, “is incomplete. The resonance frequency is off by precisely…” she paused, her brow furrowing slightly, as she mentally calculated the required adjustment, “…one tenth of a cycle.”

She looked up at the scholarly Elder in her quadrant of the array, who had been observing her with quiet intensity. “The purpose is purification, but it cannot achieve it without destabilizing itself,” she stated calmly. “The flaw is here.” She pointed to the specific, almost imperceptible break in the fractal pattern near the array’s core. “It requires a minor alteration to complete the cycle and achieve harmonious resonance.”

A ripple went through the small group of other applicants who had gathered nearby, straining to hear her. They looked at her, then back at the array, then at each other, clearly confused. She hadn’t thrown qi at it, hadn’t meditated. She had just… analyzed it.

The Elder’s expression, usually impassive, showed a flicker of profound surprise, quickly replaced by a shrewd gleam in his eyes. He approached the array, confirming her observation. He then looked at her, a hint of something akin to awe in his gaze.

“Remarkable,” he stated, his voice resonating with spiritual energy. “Not only did you identify the flaw, but you precisely articulated its purpose and the nature of the correction. Your comprehension of foundational arrays is… unprecedented for an applicant.”

Mingyue simply gave a small, modest nod. She had passed. This was her turf. She proved that her modern mind, far from being a handicap, was a powerful asset. The satisfaction was deep, a different kind of thrill than subduing a golem.

She scanned the faces of the remaining applicants. A few looked bewildered, others outright frustrated. But some, the truly sharp ones, looked at her with a new, calculating interest. She had distinguished herself not once, but twice, in wildly different tests. Jiang Feng’s warning about talent being a “beacon” and a “target” echoed in her mind. She was definitely lighting up the radar.

She took a deep breath, and prepared for whatever came next. The trials were almost over.