Linghu Ci, his head of graying hair tied in a silver crown and wearing an off-white robe, stroked his grizzled beard. He looked at the crowd with a benevolent and kind expression as his voice, amplified by spiritual energy, spread to every corner.
“The Dao of Music is vast and profound. Using sound as a blade, one can shatter all techniques; using sound as a guide, one can communicate with heaven and earth. Today, we gather here to explore the true essence of music cultivation and share in the joy of cultivation.”
“The first stage of the ceremony will feature a joint performance by the disciples of Tingyin Pavilion. This piece condenses every music cultivator’s insights into the Dao of Music. Some may find themselves moved to tears, others to indignation, and some may find enlightenment. In short, its true meaning is for every fellow Daoist present to perceive with their ears and hearts. If anyone gains an insight, they may voice it on the spot—whether to correct, criticize, or praise. This is an exchange that welcomes everyone.”
As his words faded, Linghu Ci vanished. Surrounding the Celestial Stage, countless disciples in gold-woven white robes appeared like celestials descending from the heavens. They weren't only in white, however; music cultivators in other light-colored sect robes also flew onto the platform in an orderly fashion.
These disciples carried various instruments: pipas, bamboo flutes, suonas, erhus, guqins... There were no fewer than a hundred different types.
There were also disciples who carried no instruments at all, standing alone on the other side.
First, a bamboo flute opened the performance. Then, other instruments joined in sequence. The disciples without instruments used their voices, humming wordless melodies to accompany the music.
The melodious notes of the guqins were like babbling brooks, nourishing people's hearts. The stirring sounds of the flutes were like ten thousand galloping horses, shaking their souls. The graceful notes of the xiao were like sobbing and whispering, recounting the hardships and joys on the path of cultivation.
The commoners were captivated by the wonderful celestial music. They closed their eyes in enjoyment, listening quietly with intoxicated expressions.
The many cultivators were deeply immersed as well. They could feel the music carrying a type of spiritual qi that swirled throughout the square, entering their bodies to nourish their meridians, heal the wounds of their cultivation journeys, and soothe their restlessness.
The scene was beautiful and ethereal, as if they had reached the immortal realm. All the spectators were fortunate enough to watch a gathering of immortals conversing through music in their leisure time.
This was the first time Zongzheng Huangyue and Hua Cishu had experienced this, and they couldn't help but be mesmerized. Closing their eyes, they sought their own insights. Like the other cultivators, they circulated their spiritual energy and entered a state of meditation.
Of course, among the tens of thousands of cultivators present, there were also those who remained unmoved. For example, Wen Li.
Being a person of quality, she naturally wouldn't make a scene by showing that she felt nothing, wasn't listening, or lacked musical cells. She just sat there silently, suppressing the urge to crack melon seeds.
Her gaze fell upon another special area opposite the Celestial Stage, separate from the VIP seating.
That spot was invisible to others, shielded by a cloud-mist obscuration technique.
Of course, Wen Li couldn't see through it either.
However, she could sense several powerful auras within. They were either the elders and Pavilion Master of the Tingyin Pavilion, or big shots from other Southern Province powers who had come to watch the fun.
Big shots generally didn't like being stared at like monkeys and preferred to keep a low profile. This was normal.
Well, except for people like Wen Li, who feared no chaos and spent every day causing trouble under different disguises.
Behind the mist, several figures stood tall.
“Hmm, your Tingyin Pavilion disciples truly have a few with decent talent. It seems you’ve prepared quite a lot for the Qingyun Gathering.” An old man in dark red robes stroked his beard. This man was the Second Elder of the Fire Lotus Sect, Huo Yuntian.
“Oh, not at all. We’re just checking if we can produce an outstanding standout like in previous years. On the other hand, I heard your Fire Lotus Sect already has a Mid-Stage Golden Core disciple. Truly a matter for celebration.” Linghu Ci, the Third Elder of Tingyin Pavilion, chuckled.
“Hahaha, Mid-Stage Golden Core is merely average.” Huo Yuntian’s words were humble, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Sigh, to reach such a level in just a hundred years—that talent is far greater than us old fossils. Your Fire Lotus Sect and Tingyin Pavilion are truly impressive.” Nearby, Yang Yankuan, the Third Elder of the Beast Taming Sect, spoke sourly.
“No, no, no, your Beast Taming Sect is far more formidable.”
As the three old men were engaged in their mutual flattery, a cold voice suddenly rang out.
“Psh. Look at you all, a bunch of old farts with one foot in the grave, puting on such an act. What are you pretending for? When we were young and participating in the Qingyun Gathering, I didn't see you stabbing each other any less, kicking any softer, or using any less poison. When you were young, you wanted to personally best each other; now that you’re old, you train the youngsters to do it for you. Why all the chatter and polite nonsense now? After not seeing each other for a hundred years, you’ve certainly learned the sanctimoniousness of those in the Central Province.”
A beautiful female cultivator in pale purple robes, holding a wine flagon, opened fire with her words. She was the Second Elder of Tingyin Pavilion, Xin Feiliu.
As soon as she finished speaking, the three old men looked down.
“Huo Yuntian, put away your Fire Cloud Spear!”
“Yang Yankuan, try pointing that lousy blade of yours at me one more time!”
“You old fossil, Linghu Ci! Before you say another word, pull that xiao out from against my kidney!”
The previous polite distance between the three old men shattered instantly, replaced by an explosive scene of old enemies meeting again, ready to ignite at any moment.
“Hmph!”
“Hmph!”
“Hmph!”
Three cold snorts rang out simultaneously as the three of them withdrew their weapons in a silent understanding, turning their heads away to sulk.
After knowing each other for centuries, there was still no trust between them. It was truly too much.
Wen Li, who was staring blankly from the stands, couldn't see them, but she could certainly hear them. No wonder they used mist to hide themselves; it was indeed quite embarrassing. If the disciples below saw this, all their usual dignity would be gone.
These fellows had the same fiery tempers as when they were young, especially Xin Feiliu. Her tongue was as sharp as if it were dipped in poison—one lick could probably kill someone. Wen Li wondered who she had learned it from. It certainly wasn't from her; when she had first met the girl, Xin Feiliu was only in her teens, and they had only spent a month or two together.
After the bickering subsided, Linghu Ci looked down at the many young juniors below and sighed as he stroked his beard.
“We are old. My only hope is that these youngsters can take the stage of the Qingyun Gathering themselves. Whether they are from my Tingyin Pavilion, the Fire Lotus Sect, the Beast Taming Sect, the Buddhist Order, or other sects, I hope they can safely step onto their own Daos. If they are willing... they will continue the glory of our Southern Province and protect the people of this land.”
Huo Yuntian heard this and remembered something. “Hmph, those fellows in the Central Province are the best at snatching people. Why should the children we painstakingly raised be taken away just because they say so?”
“The children have the right to choose. If they don't want to go, we can protect them even if we have to fight to the death.” Yang Yankuan, who despised Huo Yuntian's reckless and desperate attitude, gave a cold snort. “But how can the spiritual qi of these four provinces compare to the Central Province? Those selected from the Qingyun Gathering are all chosen ones of heaven. Going to the Central Province is the best choice. All we can do is lift them up; the rest is up to their own choice.”
The sharp-tongued Xin Feiliu fell silent. After a long while, she said coldly, “Choice? What choice is there?”
She stood up, patted her robes, rolled her eyes, and left.
Staying with these guys who smelled of old age made her feel like she had one leg in the grave too. How unlucky.
Xin Feiliu concealed her aura, suppressed her cultivation to Foundation Establishment, and went down to join the young people below the Celestial Stage.
By sheer coincidence, because of the incident where Wen Li had questioned the crowd after her seed shell fell on Hua Cishu’s shoulder, the people around her thought she was mentally unstable. Afraid it might be contagious, they had backed away, leaving a vacant circle in that section of the stands. Xin Feiliu spotted it at a glance and flew straight there.
She happened to land right in the seat behind Wen Li.
Xin Feiliu took a swig from her wine flagon. She glanced casually at Wen Li’s group in front of her before focusing her gaze on Jiang Nianyao and Sami in the VIP stands.
So those were the geniuses of the youngest generation from the Beast Taming Sect and the Buddhist Order. They seemed decent, with a bit of talent.
Wen Li sent a divine sense transmission to Zongzheng Huangyue: “Stay here with Hua Cishu. Don't move. I’ll be back shortly.”
Zongzheng Huangyue, who was sensing the nourishment of the musical spiritual qi, opened her eyes. She nodded imperceptibly, her sideways glance catching Xin Feiliu sitting behind them to the left. Although the woman’s spiritual energy fluctuated like a Foundation Establishment cultivator, her aura was anything but.
Zongzheng Huangyue closed her eyes and continued listening to the music from the Celestial Stage.
Wen Li calmly rose and left the stands. After walking out of the square, she mounted her sword and headed toward the Tingyin Pavilion sect headquarters.
On the stands, Xin Feiliu listened to the music and tapped out the rhythm while drinking heavily from her flagon. A flash of realization crossed her narrow, clear eyes. If that person weren't dead, she would probably have come to see today’s excitement.
She had always loved watching the fun.
...
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