MEANWHILE, Sect Leader Tianlang-zhenren, dressed in a gray cultivator robe, stood with his hands clasped behind his back at the hall entrance at Woyun Palace, waiting to receive the group from Qingyun Sect.
Rays of light in a riot of colors streaked across the sky and touched down. The one in the lead was Elder Yunsong, a white-haired cultivator with a ruddy complexion, dressed in a dark azure cultivator robe with an emerald-green jade hairpin in his hair. Over ten disciples landed in unison behind him, all dressed in light azure cultivator robes with crowns of azure cloud design, putting up a display befitting a major sect.
In comparison, the cultivators from Woyun Sect wore a variety of outfits in various colors; some wore crowns, other wore hairpins, and then there were those who just left their hair down. They looked like a third-rate sect that couldn’t afford to buy uniforms.
“It’s been a long time, Tianlang-zhenren,” Elder Yunsong said with a forced smile.
Tianlang stroked his beard and smiled back. “Indeed. You look even younger than before, Elder Yunsong.”
Yunsong gritted his teeth. A cultivator’s lifespan at every level had limits. Theoretically, their appearance would stop changing once they’d established their foundations. However, nascent soul cultivators who failed to break through to the soul transformation stage within a certain timeframe would begin to visibly age. Only when they ascended would they regain their youth. Someone like Tianlang-zhenren, who still maintained the appearance of a man in his thirties, was truly enviable. And what needed to be said about Qingtong, with his ethereal good looks?
It infuriated Elder Yunsong to no end every time he visited Woyun Sect.
Entering the grand hall, Yunsong looked around. “Where is Qingtong-zhenren?”
In Qingyun Sect, the generation of cultivators whose name started with “Yun” were the elders of the newly appointed sect leader. Since Yunsong was visiting in person, the three sanctum-masters ought to have welcomed him together as a show of respect. But he was just an elder, in the end, so it wasn’t a breach of protocol if Xuanji alone received him.
Yanlie faked a smile. “Qingtong-shishu’s personal disciple has just advanced to the foundation establishment stage, so he’s probably—”
“Hah!” Yunsong interrupted Yanlie with a derisive laugh. “I heard he took in a dual-attribute young man as a personal disciple. It has been only a year. How could he have established his foundation already?” He gestured for a disciple behind him to step forward. “Yanlie, do you still remember him?”
Yanlie looked at the man with thick lips, a flat nose, and shifty eyes. He had no impression of him.
When he saw Yanlie didn’t remember him, the man clenched his fists. “Ten years ago, I came to Woyun Sect seeking discipleship, but you rejected me because you said I looked plain!”
Zimo curled his lips. “How is that ‘plain’?” he whispered to Bailuo. “More like hideous.”
“His name is Chaojun—super handsome, just like his name suggests—and he has a heaven attribute! You people don’t know what you’re missing!” Yunsong scoffed, while Chaojun lifted his chin in pride at the mention of his heaven attribute.
The clouds supersede the lands miles beyond; the wind transcends the heavens high above. Following the words in the poem, the generation name Chao—“super”—came right behind Yun—meaning “clouds”—so this Chaojun was Yunsong’s disciple and not his grand-disciple. The “jun” in his name, of course, meant “handsome.”
“Our founder’s rule explicitly says not to accept those who are ugly,” Yuanhai drawled in his usual slow way, which made it sound like he was deliberately drawing out the words those who are ugly. This just made Chaojun more pissed off.
“Well then, I’ll have to meet this disciple you accepted based on looks. I’ll see for myself how capable he is.” Yunsong looked grim. This sect wasn’t giving him any respect at all. “Didn’t this disciple just reach the foundation establishment stage? Ask him to fight a match with my disciple. If he can’t win, you’ll answer for my grandson’s death!”
Hidden behind his beard, Tianlang’s lips curled, revealing a fang. Oh, how he yearned to bite this old geezer to death!
Yanlie, standing beside the sect leader, pressed down on his shifu’s shoulder, silently urging him to stay calm. It wouldn’t be a good look for them if word were to get out that a Woyun Sect leader bit a Qingyun Sect elder to death in a fit of anger.
“Oho, so Yingjun—oh no, I mean, Chaojun.6 If I’m not wrong, you’re already at mid-level of the foundation establishment stage. Won’t it seem like we’re looking down on Qingyun Sect if we send a disciple who has just established his foundation and whose spiritual energy is still unstable to fight against you?” Zimo dug a finger in his ear and chuckled.
“My shizun is merely speaking in a fit of pique. Our Qingyun Sect would never throw our weight around like that.” Chaojun snorted. “But your sect needs to give us an explanation for my junior’s death!”
The tension in the air was almost palpable.
“Since you want a match, a match it is!” A clear voice chimed out as a streak of white light descended into the hall.
✦ ✦ ✦
He of moonlight radiance, pure and flawless;
eyes shut in repose, an intoxicating sight.
A moment of stunned silence fell upon the grand hall—the Qingyun Sect disciples who were seeing Qingtong for the first time were particularly stunned. Frowning, Mo Tianliao stepped forward to block their view.
They snapped back to their senses and looked at the disciples behind Qingtong-zhenren. One was tall and handsome, and the other…was more than just “handsome” could describe.
Cold, sparkling eyes; chiseled features. He was so handsome that it was almost blinding.
Looking back and forth between Mo Tianliao and Chaojun, the Qingyun Sect disciples had to concede that Woyun Sect’s decision had been correct. Only such a handsome man could stand beside a master like Qingtong without looking out of place. Putting Chaojun there instead would be like building a latrine in front of a crystal palace. Just the thought of it gave them…secondhand embarrassment.