Once everyone was seated, Song Shijun remarked, "It's almost time, but Grand Beginning Temple is nowhere to be seen. What does Sect Leader Qi have to say about this?"
Qi Yunke found himself in a difficult position, but fortunately, Venerable Fakong stepped in to mediate: "This old monk passed by Wind Cloud Peak earlier and saw Sect Leader Qiu and his party just beginning their ascent. Given the large number of attendees from Grand Beginning Temple this time, it’s likely they’ll be delayed a moment."
Song Shijun grumbled, "He never arrives until the very last minute."
Yang Heying, more indignant than a cuckolded husband, snapped, "What’s the point of bringing so many people to the Ancestor’s memorial ceremony? Flaunting grandeur at a time like this!" Truth be told, he too had wanted to bring a grand entourage of disciples to show off—if only he could.
Qi Yunke pretended to look elsewhere. Since his marriage and succession as sect leader, he had discovered that selective hearing was the greatest skill in the world.
Just then, Zeng Dalou came to report, "Master, it’s time to strike the ceremonial gong."
Qi Yunke glanced once more at the empty seat reserved for the Grand Beginning Temple’s leader and said, "We mustn’t delay the gong ceremony. Let’s proceed first, and Sect Leader Qiu can make up for it when he arrives."
Song Shijun immediately brightened like a child who’d just been handed candy, loudly praising Qi Yunke for his decisiveness.
Zeng Dalou instructed the disciples to open wide the sixteen main doors of the hall. Outside, on the vast stone plaza, stood a crimson-red gong frame over twenty zhang tall, from which hung an enormous Mystic Iron gong—half a chi thick—suspended by thick iron chains.
The mountain peak’s fierce gales were relentless, and the towering frame stood so high that even the flags, a mere five or six zhang tall nearby, were nearly torn apart by the wind. Yet the massive Mystic Iron gong remained almost motionless despite the tempest’s fury, a testament to its immense weight.
Led by the five sect leaders of North Star, the crowd gathered on the open stone plaza outside the hall, holding their breath in anticipation.
Cai Zhao asked curiously, "What’s happening now?"
Fan Xingjia, who had unconsciously drifted over again, explained, "This gong was left behind by the Ancestor. It’s said to be forged from Mystic Iron mined from the depths of the ocean thousands of miles away. It’s struck during major ceremonies or the birthdays of the Three Pure Ones to announce the occasion to the heavens."
"Only Azure Tower Sect has this, right?" Cai Zhao guessed, thinking Fallen Blossom Valley probably didn’t have such a thing.
"Naturally," Fan Xingjia replied. "Thankfully, the ceremony wasn’t held at Vast Heaven Gate—otherwise, we’d have had to move this massive gong there."
"And once it was moved, Vast Heaven Gate would never have returned it," Chang Ning added dryly. Seeing Cai Zhao’s sharp glance, he quickly clarified, "Sect Leader Song doesn’t seem particularly close to Fallen Blossom Valley." Implying that Song Shijun wasn’t exactly her elder to defer to.
Cai Zhao: -_-
Fan Xingjia stifled a laugh—he knew it. Hanging around these two was always more entertaining.
Qi Yunke stepped forward. Without any visible flourish, he simply gathered his qi and struck out with a palm toward the distant gong. Moments later, a deep, resonant boom echoed above the crowd as the Mystic Iron gong trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible mallet. The accumulated dust of years shook loose in cascades, leaving the onlookers awestruck.
The crowd erupted in cheers, praising Qi Yunke’s profound cultivation. Yin Sulian beamed with pride.
Next in line should have been Song Shijun, but he suddenly turned modest and insisted Zhou Zhizhen take his place. Zhou Zhizhen, unwilling to argue, merely smiled before delivering an identical palm strike. The plaza reverberated with a second thunderous gong strike. Though equally impressive, the applause for him was slightly quieter—not that Zhou Zhizhen minded.Cai Zhao couldn't help but remark, "Every ceremony requires striking this giant gong. What if someone doesn't have enough skill to make it ring?"
Chang Ning lowered his voice, "Are you stupid? Do you really think striking the gong is to notify the gods? It's to intimidate fellow martial artists. Those without this level of skill shouldn't covet the status of the Big Dipper Six Sects."
Fan Xingjia nodded repeatedly in agreement.
Finally, it was Song Shijun's turn. With an air of profound mystery, he stepped forward, assumed a stance, and with seemingly casual yet deliberate movements, channeled his energy and struck. For the third time, the crowd heard the mighty gong resound.
Suddenly, someone exclaimed, "Look at the gong!"
Everyone strained their eyes and saw a half-inch-deep palm imprint at the very center of the dark Mystic Iron gong.
The scene erupted like oil meeting salt—thunderous cheers and discussions about Song Shijun's unfathomable skill:
"That's Mystic Iron! Even blades and spears can't pierce it! What realm has Sect Leader Song reached?"
"No wonder Vast Heaven Gate has grown stronger in recent years, even forcing Azure Tower Sect to yield ground!"
"I heard that if Sect Leader Song hadn't inherited Vast Heaven Gate, Old Sect Leader Yin originally wanted his eldest son-in-law to become the Azure Tower Sect's leader!"
...
Faced with such talk, Qi Yunke merely smiled helplessly, while Yin Sulian turned pale with anger.
Cai Zhao muttered, "I think Uncle Qi and Uncle Zhou could probably leave a palm imprint too."
Fan Xingjia grumbled, "Exactly! That's why he deliberately had Master Zhou go first—afraid he'd follow suit and leave an imprint! Our master is humble and doesn't care for such displays."
Chang Ning remarked, "I think Sect Leader Qi could just slap Song Shijun across the face—guaranteed to make an even bigger impression."
"??" Both Fan and Cai turned to stare at him.
Song Shijun, basking in the praise, maintained a modest demeanor as he gestured for silence.
Next was Yang Heying. Wanting to showcase Four Stallions Gate's might without overshadowing Song Shijun, he pondered briefly before deciding on his approach. He struck a pose, channeled his energy, and delivered a powerful upward punch. After the deafening clang, the crowd saw a shallow fist imprint beside Song Shijun's palm mark. Though the applause wasn't as thunderous as before, it was still louder than what Qi and Zhou had received.
While a punch concentrates force more than a palm strike, Song Shijun's superior skill was evident. Thus, Yang Heying earned applause without stealing Vast Heaven Gate's spotlight.
Amid the cheers, Fan Xingjia and Cai Zhao both scoffed.
Chang Ning suddenly said, "Yang Heying's skill is lacking."
Cai Zhao looked puzzled. Chang Ning explained, "Look at the fist imprint. The middle and ring fingers left the deepest marks, while the index and little fingers are much shallower. Though fingers vary in length, an internal energy strike should distribute force evenly. See how Sect Leader Song's palm imprint is uniform? Yang Heying couldn't sustain his power—he had to focus it all in one spot, unlike the first three sect leaders who made it look effortless."
Upon closer inspection, Fan and Cai saw he was right. Noticing Fakong Shangren remaining still, Shijing Yuantai watching coldly, and the faint mockery beneath Qi Yunke and Zhou Zhizhen's polite smiles, they knew Chang Ning spoke true.
The last to strike the gong was Cai Pingchun. Cai Zhao clenched her small fists nervously.Cai Pingchun's expression remained unchanged. Without waiting for the surroundings to quiet down, he delivered an utterly ordinary flat-handed strike. Then, the massive gong emitted an equally unremarkable sound—with one sole difference: all the previous palm and fist imprints had vanished, as if smoothed over like a mud wall.
The Mystic Iron gong might have once been as smooth as a mirror, but after two centuries of being struck, its surface had long become uneven. Now, under Cai Pingchun's stroke, it appeared as if scraped flat like a rough earthen wall.
The surroundings suddenly fell silent. The crowd exchanged glances, none daring to speak. Some were astonished, while others feared displeasing the Vast Heaven Gate and Four Stallions Gate if they cheered too loudly.
Shijing Yuantai's stern and solemn face softened slightly—a rare sight.
Venerable Fakong chanted a Buddhist invocation and smiled, saying, "Young Benefactor Cai has made great progress over the years." When he first met the Cai siblings, Cai Pingchun was only twelve, so he had grown accustomed to calling him "young benefactor."
Beside him, Master Juexing chuckled, "The master of Fallen Blossom Valley is nearly forty, yet you still call him 'young benefactor,' Master?" Though he had taken monastic vows, his brother-in-law remained his brother-in-law.
Venerable Fakong, ever benevolent, smiled and replied, "Well said."
Seeing the abbot of Evergreen Temple speak up, the crowd gradually began to offer praise—though cautiously, not daring to overdo it. Still, their gazes toward the disciples of Fallen Blossom Valley now carried a mix of respect and wariness.
Qi Yunke seemed to have anticipated this outcome. He laughed heartily and said, "Well done, Xiao Chun! You saved me the trouble of sending a disciple up to flatten that iron gong."
Song Shijun rolled his eyes and remarked with thinly veiled sarcasm, "Truly, the capable remain unassuming. Brother Pingchun's skills have grown indeed. No wonder your sister always said you had decent talent and a limitless future."
Cai Pingchun replied calmly, "In my sister's eyes, everyone in the world has their strengths. No one is born mediocre."
Song Shijun snorted and turned away, while Zhou Zhizhen patted Cai Pingchun's shoulder in approval. In contrast, Yang Heying's expression darkened considerably.
As the gong-striking ceremony concluded and the crowd prepared to enter the hall, the ceremonial disciple at the outer gate suddenly announced in a loud voice: "Abbot Qiu of Grand Beginning Temple arrives with his disciples to pay respects to the Patriarch!"
Everyone froze. Then, amid a series of firm and synchronized footsteps, a group of Daoists clad in wide-sleeved robes of pale purple embroidered with gold drifted into view. At their head was a man around forty, tall and powerfully built, with a square-jawed, handsome face. His deep purple Daoist robe was adorned with dark golden constellations—this was none other than Qiu Yuanfeng, Abbot of Grand Beginning Temple.
The purple-robed disciples parted like a river splitting in two, revealing four disciples carrying a bamboo sedan chair. Seated atop it was an elderly man with a grizzled beard. Though his face was ruddy and his spirit vigorous, both his legs were severed at the knees.
Qi Yunke and the others were taken aback. They hurried forward to pay their respects as juniors, addressing him, "Uncle Cangqiong."
Venerable Fakong and Shijing Yuantai also stepped forward to greet him.
"After our parting all those years ago, I never thought I'd have the fortune to see Daoist Cangqiong again in this lifetime," Venerable Fakong said with deep emotion.
Cang Qiongzi smiled warmly. "This old Daoist was ambushed by heretical villains of the Demonic Cult and had no choice but to lose both legs. I thought my remaining years would be bleak. Fortunately, my junior here has proven capable, so I came today to join the gathering. I hope Sect Leader Qi doesn't mind."
As the last surviving elder of the six major sects, how could Qi Yunke refuse?
Cang Qiongzi seemed pleased. Raising his head, he said, "Nephew Yuanfeng, strike the gong first."Qiu Yuanfeng bowed in acknowledgment and casually raised his palm upward. The massive Mystic Iron gong resonated four times in rapid succession, as if struck repeatedly by a hammer. The surrounding crowd erupted in murmurs, with Cang Qiongzi looking especially proud.
"This... this must be the Grand Beginning Temple's legendary divine skill! A single palm moving four breaths, cycling endlessly—truly a perfect balance of strength and grace, radiating majesty!"
"...If it's a balance of strength and grace, how can it be 'majestic'?"
"Stop interrupting! Anyway, I think Sect Leader Qiu's divine skill is unparalleled, no less than the legendary heroine Cai Pingshu in her prime!"
"No wonder the Grand Beginning Temple's reputation has soared these years, almost surpassing Vast Heaven Gate..."
"Shh, don't speak carelessly. Vast Heaven Gate has many disciples here—don't let them hear!"
Now it was Song Shijun's turn to look displeased.
Though Cai Pingchun's earlier display had been impressive, Song had been confident he could match it. But Qiu Yuanfeng's feat was extraordinary, and Song wasn't sure he could replicate it.
Seeing Song's expression darken, Yang Heying immediately called out loudly, "Brother Yuanfeng, what a grand entrance! Today is the Ancestor's memorial day, not a battle against the Demonic Cult. Who are you trying to intimidate by bringing such a large entourage?"
The crowd looked and indeed saw that the Grand Beginning Temple had brought far more disciples than other sects. These disciples carried brocade boxes, shouldered silk-wrapped bundles, or held high banners—an extremely imposing display.
Qiu Yuanfeng naturally paid Yang no mind, smiling as he said, "The Ancestor's bicentennial memorial is rare. Every disciple of our temple wished to offer their filial devotion. Seeing their sincerity, I brought a few more along. What say you, Sect Leader Qi? Surely Azure Tower Sect can accommodate our disciples?"
Qi Yunke suppressed his displeasure and replied solemnly, "Azure Tower Sect naturally welcomes them, but Dusk Micro Palace cannot. During the memorial ceremony at the Sunlit Hall later, many disciples will have to remain outside."
"That's no issue," Qiu said dismissively.
Song Shijun snorted heavily. "Since you recognize the rarity of the Ancestor's bicentennial memorial, why delay until the last moment? It's hard not to suspect intentional disrespect!"
Qiu seemed to have been waiting for this. He laughed heartily and called to the back, "Second Brother, bring it forward."
A refined, middle-aged Taoist priest stepped forward slowly, presenting a redwood box.
Cai Zhao whispered, "Is he ordering his own senior brother around?" Shouldn't such tasks be left to disciples?
Chang Ning glanced at the priest and said, "That's Wang Yuanjing, the second disciple of the late Grand Master Cang Huanzi. Qiu Yuanfeng is the third. The crippled Cang Qiongzi was the Grand Master's junior brother."
Cai Zhao frowned. "What about the Grand Master's first disciple?"
"Died twenty years ago at the hands of a Demonic Cult elder," Chang Ning said impassively.
Fan Xingjia couldn't help adding, "I heard Lei Shibo say that Grand Master Cang Huan's first disciple, the heroic Wu Yuanying, was a renowned figure in the Martial World—not only peerless in skill but also supremely righteous and bold. Lei Shibo said he loved carrying huge wine jars up Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff to drink with everyone back then. Ah..."
Cai Zhao sighed, then asked, "Isn't Lei Shibo coming today? Even Li Shibo from the outer sect is here."Fan Xingjia's mood was low. "Master has invited him many times. Lei Shibo said that in his crippled state, it would be better not to come out and embarrass the sect."
As they spoke, Wang Yuanjing placed the red wooden box in the center of the open space. Song Shijun frowned. "What is this?"
Qiu Yuanfeng waved his hand dismissively. "No need to be so cautious, Second Brother. Just open it and show everyone."
A young and handsome Taoist beside Wang Yuanjing looked furious, as if he wanted to retort against Qiu Yuanfeng's disrespectful behavior, but Wang Yuanjing held him back. Then, Wang Yuanjing stepped forward himself and opened the red wooden box.
Everyone looked inside and gasped in shock—inside the box was a terrifying severed head with wild, disheveled hair and beard!
Cai Zhao was also startled, covering her mouth to stifle a scream.
Chang Ning thought that she had never seen a dead person before and couldn't help but feel pity for her. However, Young Master Chang's way of showing tenderness was rather unique—instead of offering soft words of comfort or shielding the girl, he leaned in and whispered seriously into Cai Zhao's ear, "Don't be afraid. Dead people can't harm you. It's the living you should fear."
Unsurprisingly, Cai Zhao glared back at him. "Thank you for the enlightening advice, Senior Brother!" she snapped, turning away sharply.
Fan Xingjia silently expressed his admiration for Chang Ning.
"Who is this?!" Zhou Zhizhen, rarely losing his composure, exclaimed. "Uncle Cang Qiong, today is the ancestor's memorial day. What is the meaning of this, Brother Qiu?!"
Cang Qiongzi waved his hand indifferently. "This old man has long since withdrawn from worldly affairs. Yuanfeng is now the temple master, so he decides everything." Despite his words, his expression was clearly quite smug.
Qiu Yuanfeng looked at Song Shijun's extremely unpleasant expression and said slowly, "Brother Zhou may not recognize this man, but Brother Song certainly does—this is Sima An, the leader of the Thunderbolt Fort."
The Thunderbolt Fort was a sizable stronghold located within the territory of the Vast Heaven Gate, overseeing a remote stretch of dense forest. It had a modest reputation in the Martial World. Sima An was the newly appointed leader of the Thunderbolt Fort, not only skilled in martial arts but also adept at managing affairs and currying favor.
Qiu Yuanfeng's words only deepened the confusion among the crowd.
Song Shijun took a slow step forward. "What exactly are you implying, Temple Master Qiu?" Of course he recognized this man—last year, when he celebrated his birthday, Sima An had personally delivered lavish gifts to the Vast Heaven Gate.
Qiu Yuanfeng smiled faintly, his tone suggestive. "The ancestor dedicated his life to eradicating evil and upholding justice. Today, I present this man's head as an offering to the ancestor's spirit in heaven!"
Song Shijun's pupils constricted sharply.
Yang Heying stepped forward. "The Thunderbolt Fort lies within the jurisdiction of the Vast Heaven Gate. Even if Sima An had faults, it should be Brother Song who passes judgment. What business does your Grand Beginning Temple have interfering?!"
"I'm afraid we couldn't wait," Qiu Yuanfeng said with a mocking tone.
Seeing the situation deteriorating, Qi Yunke stepped forward and said solemnly, "Brother Yuanfeng, why don't you just tell us what crime Sima An committed?"Qiu Yuanfeng lifted his robe and stepped forward slowly, putting on a full display of pomp before finally speaking: "The Thunderbolt Fort was originally surnamed Lei. Many years ago, Old Master Lei adopted this Sima An and, seeing his decent aptitude, imparted all his martial skills to him. When the boy grew up, Old Master Lei found his abilities even surpassed those of his own son, so he passed the position of fort master to him and even betrothed his beloved daughter to him. Who would have thought this ungrateful wretch, upon seeing the beauty of Old Master Lei’s daughter-in-law, would covet her for himself! This beast first schemed to cause Old Master Lei’s son to fall to his death from a cliff, then poisoned Miss Lei with an incurable toxin. Had Grand Beginning Temple arrived even half a day later, Old Master Lei himself might have met with misfortune."
Hearing this tale of the ungrateful wolf, the crowd sighed in dismay. Yang Heying, in particular, thought to himself, 'No adopted or foster son is as reliable as one’s own flesh and blood,' and glanced sidelong at Cai Pingchun beside him, silently mocking that only a place as unrefined as Fallen Blossom Valley would treat a son-in-law as one of their own.
Amid the murmurs, Song Shijun said gravely, "How is it I knew nothing of these matters?"
Qiu Yuanfeng chuckled, "Heh heh heh, in truth, someone did lodge a complaint. Old Master Lei’s daughter-in-law was quite resourceful. Seeing that Sima An had already seized control of the fort, she feigned compliance while secretly sending her trusted maid to seek help. But Vast Heaven Gate is a grand establishment, and its disciples are proud. They paid no heed to the ragged little maid—reportedly, they didn’t even let her explain before driving her out on the spot."
"And then that little maid happened upon Grand Beginning Temple’s people?" Song Shijun’s expression darkened to the extreme.
"Precisely," Qiu Yuanfeng replied, unable to conceal his smugness. "By heaven’s grace, someone finally upheld justice for the Lei family."
Cang Qiongzi chimed in at the opportune moment, "It was only thanks to Nephew Yuanfeng’s vigilance that the Lei father and daughter were saved."
After the full story was laid out, the disciples of Grand Beginning Temple swelled with pride, while those of Vast Heaven Gate turned ashen-faced, their expressions grim.
The hall fell silent. Everyone knew Vast Heaven Gate had suffered a great loss of face.
In such a situation, even Qi Yunke found it difficult to pass judgment.
First, Grand Beginning Temple had indeed overstepped its bounds.
Second, Grand Beginning Temple had indeed saved the Lei family.
Third, if he praised Qiu Yuanfeng for doing the right thing, wouldn’t Vast Heaven Gate and Song Shijun lose face?
Fourth, if he reprimanded Qiu Yuanfeng, it wouldn’t sit right morally.
Fifth...
—There was no fifth. The sect leader’s head was pounding!
OpenNovel