Chapter Sixty-One: The Disciple of True Transmission

In a grand and imposing hall, several enigmatic figures gathered around a black round table, the distance between them carefully measured by its surface.

“This Cloud Sect Master certainly puts on airs, making us wait for him!” remarked the figure seated to the left, holding a black iron fan, his words laced with disdain and mockery toward the Cloud Sect Master.

His comment drew murmurs of agreement from others at the table, save for four figures who sat unmoved, uninterested in the petty complaints. These were the masters of four of the Five Great Sects, convened here together for this round-table meeting.

“The Head of the Wind Family is unbridled, acting as if he owns this place,” transmitted the Silent Void Sect Master, his tone dripping with contempt for the Wind Family Head’s attitude.

Beside him sat a figure upright as an unsheathed sword, radiating sharpness. He heard the transmission but offered no opinion; after all, these family heads had been chosen by the four sect masters to put pressure on the Cloud Sect Master.

A seat further down, a graceful figure lounged lazily in her chair. Hearing the transmission, she lifted her eyelids and glanced at the heated discussion among the family heads, her gaze beguiling, almost enchanting.

“Silent Void Sect Master, you jest. We all know Ghost Valley is a place of great fortune. These family heads have coveted it for a long time. Now that we offer them this opportunity, their eagerness is only natural!” spoke the figure on the far right, his aged face warm and smiling, appearing the eldest among them.

Suddenly, the hall’s doors swung open, silencing the family heads and drawing all eyes to the entrance.

A figure clad in indigo appeared, evoking a single thought among those present: He has finally arrived!

The Cloud Sect Master scanned the gathered heads, then strode toward the seats of the four sect masters, his presence subtly exerting dominance over all the family heads.

He made straight for the sole vacant seat. With his arrival, the family heads sensed the four sect masters being effortlessly subdued by his presence.

The Wind Family Head, previously brash, now fell silent, his arrogance toward the Cloud Sect Master vanishing; many present saw through him.

“Thank you for waiting,” the Cloud Sect Master said calmly as he sat.

The four sect masters smiled lightly. “Not at all, you arrived at just the right time.”

If one looked closely, the Silent Void Sect Master’s smile carried a hint of sycophancy, the kind shown by those seeking favor from their superiors.

Moreover, the languid woman beside him straightened and sat properly as the Cloud Sect Master took his seat.

The Sword Sect Master to the left remained upright, but his composure was less natural than before.

Even the kindly elder’s smile faded somewhat.

Hearing their words, the Cloud Sect Master went straight to the point, saying, “Everyone has gathered here for a single purpose: the Ghost Valley Trial.”

“In Ghost Valley, peril and opportunity coexist. Never in its history has Ghost Valley been opened ahead of schedule. If it is opened early this time, what will happen? Do any of you, including the four sect masters, know?”

His tone was gentle, yet carried an invisible pressure that unsettled the family heads.

The air around the table seemed to freeze; no one spoke.

After a long pause, the kindly elder broke the silence with a smile. “Cloud Sect Master, rest assured. Since our four sects and the family heads have jointly requested the early opening of Ghost Valley, we are prepared for any outcome. Should anything unforeseen occur, your sect will not be implicated.”

The Cloud Sect Master glanced sideways at the elder. “Since Puppet Sect Master has spoken thus, I have nothing more to say.”

“Five days hence, Ghost Valley will open ahead of schedule. Do any of the family heads or sect masters object?”

“None,” they replied, shaking their heads in unison. The family heads, though outwardly calm, felt a surge of excitement—Ghost Valley, the land of fortune, would soon be open to them.

...

Meanwhile, a sudden voice echoed across the Cloud Sect, drawing the attention of its disciples.

“Inner Sect, Bamboo Peak disciple, Shen Qingyun, promoted to Core Disciple! Appointed as Bamboo Peak’s Chief!”

Outer sect disciples heard the news without much reaction. The inner sect was still far from their reach, let alone the rank of core disciple. The addition of a core disciple merely signaled the sect had gained another; their focus remained on entering the inner sect.

But for the inner sect, the news struck differently. Many were stunned, as if confronted with something they could not accept.

Especially the disciples of Bamboo Peak—shock and disbelief mingled on their faces. Yet the announcement was undeniably true, the voice still echoing in their ears, repeatedly affirming this was not a dream.

“Did I just hallucinate?”

“I felt the same, maybe it was an illusion.”

“Stop deceiving yourself—it’s real. A core disciple, and it’s our Bamboo Peak Chief,” one disciple nodded, voicing the truth they wished to deny.

“Ah, I don’t want to hear it!” The two covered their ears, shaking their heads desperately.

But no matter how they reacted, it was an ironclad fact.

Shen Qingyun was now a core disciple, and the Chief of Bamboo Peak.

...

At that moment, Shen Qingyun was cultivating in his own cave dwelling. He too heard the news: he had become a core disciple, and simultaneously Bamboo Peak’s Chief.

A stream of light passed through the warding spell, flew to him, and began to burn.

“Disciple Shen Qingyun, proceed immediately to the Divine Ascent Hall to receive your title!”

Shen Qingyun slowly opened his eyes, read the message, and blew it away with a breath. Rising, he left his cave; as he stepped outside, he sensed many gazes fixed upon him.

“Haha, congratulations!” A figure emerged straight from a nearby cave, slinging an arm around Shen Qingyun’s shoulder in a familiar manner, laughing, “Brother Shen, congratulations!”

This was indeed someone Shen Qingyun knew well.

After half a year apart, Ling Xiao’s cultivation had not progressed, but his aura was much more robust.

Shen Qingyun knew Ling Xiao had his own unique training methods, not to be judged by conventional standards.

“What are you saying? After today, you’ll have to call him Senior Brother Shen!” Another voice chimed in, as Su Ye draped his arm around Shen Qingyun’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes, my mind’s a mess,” Ling Xiao feigned annoyance, patting his forehead. He then stepped back, clasped his hands respectfully to Shen Qingyun, “Ling Xiao greets the Chief of Bamboo Peak. About earlier, I hope Chief will not take offense.”

“Not enough, you have to do it like this!” Su Ye laughed, pressing Ling Xiao’s head down firmly.

Watching their antics, Shen Qingyun couldn’t help but smile. Over the past half year, Ling Xiao and Su Ye’s relationship had grown beyond mere fellow disciples. How things had developed, Shen Qingyun neither cared to hear nor know.

That day, upon returning, Shen Qingyun had found the two skulking outside his cave...

“You two carry on, I must go to the Divine Ascent Hall,” Shen Qingyun said, passing the still playful pair as he headed down the mountain.

Hearing his words, Su Ye and Ling Xiao paused, curious, “What for?”

“To receive my title!” Shen Qingyun replied, raising his hand as he walked.