Han Li stroked his chin, and with a sweep of his spiritual sense, the murmurs and conversations of the crowd flooded into his ears.
“Who is this guy?”
“Such an unfamiliar face. Is he a new disciple?”
“Why is Uncle Mu coming with him?”
“Could he be related to Uncle Mu? She never travels with male cultivators, yet she arrived with this guy!”
A series of questions and envious remarks reached Han Li’s ears clearly.
His expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he sighed. He then took a few steps away from the hall entrance and blended into the crowd. Even so, he could still feel numerous gazes lingering on him.
“Junior Brother Han, who would have thought we’d meet again only now after parting that day?” Suddenly, a seemingly hearty voice came from behind him.
Han Li turned around in surprise and saw a burly man standing a few feet away—none other than the man called “Du Dong.”
At this moment, he was smiling broadly as he greeted Han Li.
A flicker of something odd passed through Han Li’s eyes, but his face quickly mirrored a polite smile as he clasped his fists in greeting. “Ah, it’s Senior Brother Du! I hope you’ve been well under Elder Jiang’s guidance?”
The Elder Jiang he referred to was the white-haired elder who had taken Du Dong away that day.
“Very well, indeed,” the burly man chuckled, appearing utterly guileless.
Han Li sneered inwardly but maintained a pleasant demeanor as they exchanged stories about their experiences since parting.
According to Du Dong, the white-haired elder seemed to believe he had a rare talent for talisman-making and intended to nurture him further. As he spoke of this, Du Dong’s face was alight with excitement.
Hearing this, Han Li couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Elder Jiang. Out of all the disciples to favor, why choose this scheming fellow? He would likely bring trouble upon the elder sooner or later.
With this thought in mind, Han Li naturally had no intention of warning Elder Jiang. He continued chatting idly with Du Dong.
But then, Du Dong suddenly adopted a mysterious expression and said, “Junior Brother Han, did you know? The Uncle Mu assigned to guide you is the most beautiful woman on Tianquan Peak—ranked among the top three in the entire Falling Cloud Sect. Now that you’ve arrived with her, you’ve probably caused quite a stir.”
“Not probably—it’s already happened!”
Han Li gave a wry smile and glanced around helplessly.
“Still, Junior Brother, since you flew here with Uncle Mu, did she mention anything about today’s gathering?”
Du Dong’s tone shifted, his question seemingly casual.
“Oh? No, she didn’t. Has Senior Brother heard something? Why not enlighten me?”
Han Li’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes took on a knowing glint as he gave Du Dong a meaningful look.
Under Han Li’s gaze, Du Dong’s seemingly simple smile faltered. His heart suddenly raced, as if he had been completely exposed. A wave of dread washed over him.
But then Han Li turned away, and the sensation vanished as abruptly as it had come, leaving Du Dong bewildered. Nevertheless, he no longer felt comfortable staying near Han Li. After forcing a few more words, he excused himself and walked toward another familiar Tianquan Peak disciple.
Watching him leave, a trace of mockery flashed across Han Li’s face.
At that moment, Yin Yue’s voice echoed in his mind: “Brother Han, did you deliberately scare him off? Aren’t you afraid he’ll grow suspicious of you and cause trouble later?”
“This man’s identity is unclear, but he’s definitely up to no good in the Falling Cloud Sect. I’d rather not get involved with him—better to have him keep his distance. If something major happens, I don’t want to be implicated. As for his suspicions, what does it matter? He’s the one with ulterior motives. At most, he’ll just be more cautious around me. Even if he tries to ambush me, do you think he’d succeed? I have no intention of interfering with his schemes—I just don’t want any further entanglement.” Han Li replied slowly via divine sense.
Hearing this, Yin Yue fell silent, evidently acknowledging the logic in Han Li’s words. After all, if Du Dong was indeed plotting something nefarious within the sect, those too close to him would inevitably draw suspicion from the higher-ups if things went awry.
That was the last thing Han Li wanted.
Thus, in the following moments, Han Li observed the gathered low-level disciples alone.
The group consisted of men and women, young and old. Age didn’t necessarily correlate with cultivation level—some younger ones had already reached the twelfth or thirteenth layer of Qi Refinement.
Among them were several attractive young women who stood out in the crowd. However, each eligible female cultivator was almost always surrounded by several male peers. It seemed that, like in other sects, young and beautiful female cultivators were highly sought after in the Falling Cloud Sect.
As Han Li pondered this, the hall doors finally swung open. A dignified voice echoed from within, commanding immediate respect.
“Disciples of Tianquan Peak, enter the hall!”
The calm male voice belonged to none other than the peak master of Tianquan Peak—the mid-stage Core Formation cultivator surnamed Xin whom Han Li had met once before.
Upon hearing the command, the disciples outside bowed in unison and replied respectfully, “As the Ancestor commands!” They then filed into the hall in pairs. Since Han Li was the newest disciple, he naturally took his place at the rear alongside Du Dong.
The hall was vast, spanning three to four hundred feet. Aside from dozens of towering pillars, the only furnishings were two chairs placed at the front—one central and one slightly to the side. The rest of the space was empty. The pillars were embedded with polished, prism-shaped moonstones that emitted a soft white glow.
Seated in the chairs were two cultivators—one a refined-looking man in white robes, the other a disheveled, fierce-looking elder in gray.
A short distance in front of them stood over a dozen Foundation Establishment cultivators, arranged in two rows.
The strikingly cold and beautiful woman surnamed Mu and the youth surnamed Yu, who had guided Han Li into the sect, stood in the same row. Meanwhile, the sickly-looking youth surnamed Miao, who had tested them with the Heart-Questioning Talisman, stood at the head of the opposite row, his frail appearance unchanged.
As the disciples entered, they bowed deeply to the two seated figures and chorused, “Greetings, Ancestor Xin, Ancestor Yu!”
“Enough, rise,” the middle-aged man in the center said with a faint smile, gesturing for them to stand.
The low-level disciples then respectfully divided into two rows along the sides of the hall, with Han Li and Du Dong positioned near the entrance.
Han Li swept his spiritual sense over the fierce-looking elder and found him to be only at the early Core Formation stage. This must be the deputy peak master, “Uncle Yu,” whom he had heard of but never met.
After a brief glance, Han Li withdrew his attention.
At this point, Peak Master Xin began to speak.
“I’ve gathered you all here today. Some of you may have already guessed the reason. Indeed, yesterday our sect officially received a notice from the Ancient Sword Sect. The Sword Trial Conference will commence in half a year. Since the last one was held here, this year’s event will take place at the Hundred Crafts Academy, our allied sect. Participants from our sect and the Ancient Sword Sect will travel to the western ranges of the Cloud Dream Mountains for the competition. However, as per tradition, only thirty disciples from each sect may participate, with the top ten receiving substantial rewards. Therefore, our Falling Cloud Sect must first conduct internal selections to determine who will represent us.”
The middle-aged man paused briefly before continuing, “Of course, six spots are reserved for direct nominations by the six peak masters, exempting those disciples from preliminary matches. The remaining twenty-four spots will be contested among qualified disciples from all peaks. The victors will then receive additional guidance from the sect’s elders in the remaining time. Yesterday, we peak masters discussed this with the sect leader, and the internal selections will take place in one month. Before that, let me remind those unfamiliar with the Sword Trial Conference: Disciples over thirty years of age or below the tenth layer of Qi Refinement are barred from participation. There are no other restrictions. You now have the time it takes for one incense stick to burn to consider. Those who meet the criteria and wish to compete may step forward—I have further instructions. Oh, and as for the six exempted participants, Ancestor Yu and I have already designated your Uncle Mu. Alright, Jun’er! Light the incense.”
“As you command, Master.”
The youth surnamed Yu promptly stepped forward, retrieving a bronze censer from his storage pouch and placing it in the center of the hall. He inserted a sandalwood stick into it and, with a flicker of flame from his hand, lit it.
A wisp of blue smoke curled upward.
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