With a single glance, Han Li immediately recognized the elderly man with piercing eyes—there was a ninety percent chance this was the infamous Jin Laoguai. After all, among the three, only he was at mid-Nascent Soul stage, and his cultivation seemed close to the peak of this realm.
The curly-haired elder strode into the hall without ceremony, sweeping his gaze over Cheng and the others before finally settling on Han Li. His expression shifted slightly.
“So, this must be Fellow Daoist Han! I’ve long heard of your reputation. But weren’t you supposed to be at the early Nascent Soul stage? Has your cultivation advanced so swiftly?” The elder spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of peculiarity.
“You must be Brother Jin. I’m afraid you’ll find this amusing, but I only recently broke through to mid-stage,” Han Li replied calmly, rising to his feet and cupping his hands in greeting.
The elder’s heart sank at these words. “The moment I emerged from seclusion, I heard countless tales of your extraordinary abilities. It seems the rumors, though perhaps exaggerated, weren’t far from the truth,” he said after a brief silence, forcing a bitter smile.
Han Li’s lips curled slightly, but before he could respond, Cheng stood up with a hearty laugh.
“Brother Jin, why fixate on Junior Brother Han the moment you arrive? Let’s all sit and chat like old friends,” Cheng said warmly.
“Don’t misunderstand, Brother Cheng. It’s not that I’m ignoring you. But before coming here, all I heard were tales of your Junior Brother Han’s exploits—naturally, my curiosity got the better of me,” Jin Laoguai replied with a hollow chuckle.
“Oh? Now that you’ve met him, are you disappointed?” Cheng asked with a knowing smile.
“Disappointed? Far from it. If anything, I’m surprised. With Fellow Daoist Han in your ranks, Falling Cloud Sect is bound to soar. Though I’ve heard Han wasn’t originally a core disciple of your sect—wasn’t he from Yellow Maple Valley?” Jin Laoguai shot a sidelong glance at Cheng, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“What does it matter if Junior Brother Han once had ties to Yellow Maple Valley? He is now an elder of our Falling Cloud Sect,” Cheng replied smoothly, unfazed.
Jin Laoguai rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but Feng suddenly interjected, “Fellow Daoists, before we continue, why not sample a rare spiritual fruit our Hundred Crafts Academy recently acquired?” With a clap of his hands, a group of young female disciples entered, carrying trays of oval, crimson fruits.
Not wishing to offend their host, Jin Laoguai and the others took their seats.
“These are Fire Pomegranates, gathered by one of our disciples from an uncharted land. Their flesh is sweet and juicy, and mortals who consume them gain improved eyesight,” Feng explained once the fruits were served.
The fruits were indeed unfamiliar to Han Li and the others, and they sampled them curiously. The taste was exquisite, rich with spiritual energy. Han Li found them so delightful that he ate three in quick succession.
“By the way, why isn’t Fellow Daoist Huolong here today? And this must be Fellow Daoist Mingxin of your sect, correct? I’ve heard her treasure is crafted from ten-thousand-year-old yellowwood, and she cultivates the supreme wood-attribute technique, ‘Hundred Flowers of Spring,'” Ding remarked, eyeing the elegant woman from Ancient Sword Sect.
“Indeed, I am Mingxin. Senior Brother Huolong heard rumors of Fire Python Beast eggs being sold in Tanyun Mountain’s market and left months ago to investigate. As for me, though I’ve been at the Nascent Soul stage for fifty or sixty years, I rarely interact with others. Meeting you all today is an honor, and I hope to learn much from you,” the woman replied. Though not stunningly beautiful, her graceful demeanor and natural floral aura made her instantly likable.
Han Li noticed her gaze lingering on him briefly, her eyes filled with interest. He frowned imperceptibly but quickly regained his composure.
After the fruits were finished, the elders of the three sects began exchanging pleasantries.
Han Li remained mostly silent, letting Yin and Lü Luo handle the veiled exchanges. Even so, the elders from Hundred Crafts Academy and Ancient Sword Sect watched his every move, as if trying to gauge his depths.
Just as the discussions were in full swing, a flash of red light appeared at the hall’s entrance, revealing a middle-aged man in purple robes. His imposing presence and thick brows marked him as someone accustomed to authority.
Feng and Ding immediately rose to greet him. “Senior Brother Liehuo, our guests from Falling Cloud Sect and Ancient Sword Sect have arrived. Is everything prepared for the ceremony?”
“All is ready. Let us proceed,” Liehuo replied casually, his gaze sweeping over the assembled cultivators.
The others stood to pay their respects—after all, he was the Grand Elder of Hundred Crafts Academy.
“Brother Liehuo, you’ve finally emerged. Has your Heavenly Flame Art improved? After the ceremony, let’s spar,” Jin Laoguai said boldly, clearly familiar with him.
“Spare me. Even if my Heavenly Flame Art is formidable, I’m a full minor realm behind you. What good would a match do me? Find someone else,” Liehuo retorted with a roll of his eyes.
Cheng then introduced Han Li, and Liehuo couldn’t hide his astonishment at Han Li’s rapid advancement, treating him with great courtesy.
Without further delay, Liehuo led the group to the ceremony. Emerging from the cave, they arrived above the platform they had seen earlier.
The area was now deserted, save for hundreds of Foundation Establishment disciples arranged in orderly rows before the grand pavilion. At the forefront stood a dozen Core Formation elders, solemn and upright.
Before them, about ten zhang away, stood an unusual cauldron—a square, flat vessel adorned with flame-like engravings. Despite having no visible heat source, it glowed crimson, radiating scorching waves that forced even Core Formation disciples to activate protective barriers.
But none of this drew the elders’ attention. Their focus was on the young man kneeling before the cauldron, his head bowed as he murmured an incantation.
Han Li and the others descended before the disciples, who promptly bowed in greeting.
“Honored Seniors, Junior Brother Yu has been in ritual purification for nearly an hour. The ceremony will commence shortly,” Fu, one of the Core Formation elders, reported respectfully.
“Very well. You may withdraw,” Liehuo said, leading the group forward to observe the kneeling youth.
“Fellow Daoist Liehuo, is this the disciple who formed his Core in under a century? His aptitude is remarkable. With the Qiankun Tower as his lifebound treasure, your academy may gain another Nascent Soul cultivator in two or three hundred years,” Jin Laoguai remarked after studying the young man.
“Hmph. Breaking through to Nascent Soul depends on fate, not just talent. Though those with superior spiritual roots do have an advantage,” Liehuo replied dismissively.
Jin Laoguai smiled faintly but said no more. Silence fell over the group.
The disciples behind them, now in the presence of so many Nascent Soul elders, stood rigidly, not daring to make a sound. The platform was utterly still save for the young man’s murmurs.
Han Li listened briefly—it was a simple prayer to heaven and earth, repeated endlessly. Whether this was meant to temper the disciple’s resolve or was simply an eccentric tradition of Hundred Crafts Academy, he couldn’t say.
To these elders, half an hour passed in the blink of an eye. Just as Han Li estimated the time was up, the massive cauldron trembled slightly. A clear chime rang out from within, and spiritual light erupted from its surface. The temperature around it skyrocketed, sending a wave of scorching air outward.
The Nascent Soul elders remained unaffected, their protective barriers flaring briefly. But the Foundation Establishment and Core Formation disciples hastily activated their own defenses against the blistering heat.
The kneeling youth, now bathed in a fiery glow, endured the wave before finally raising his head to gaze fervently at the cauldron.
He was a slender, delicate-looking man in his late twenties. To form a Golden Core at such a young age—no wonder Hundred Crafts Academy was willing to entrust him with a treasure like the Qiankun Tower. Han Li mused silently.
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