“This is one of the primary reasons.”
Wen Li nodded. “The higher your cultivation, the more spiritual energy you need—tens of thousands of times more than the previous realm. Although advancing depends on comprehension, talent, luck, opportunity, and strength, spiritual energy is the foundation. Without the root, talent and strength are just nonsense.”
“It’s true that the spiritual energy of the Four Provinces is birthed by Heaven and Earth, but most of it isn't actually used by the cultivators of the Four Provinces.”
“...”
Zongzheng Huangyue’s pupils constricted. She had never heard even a whisper of such a world-shattering secret. She looked at Wen Li with a startled expression.
Seeing that she had guessed something, Wen Li raised a hand to her lips in a “shush” gesture and smiled without saying more. “Therefore, there is no such thing as absolute fairness in the cultivation world. Whoever has the bigger fist is the one who is listened to. Why else do you think the Soul Formation cultivators of the Four Provinces value the Qingyun Gathering so much? The Aptitude Battle is only for cultivators under a hundred, mostly at the Nascent Soul realm at best, yet those old monsters don’t hesitate to personally select talented individuals and pour massive resources into creating geniuses.”
Just like Xie Tinglan, whose talent as an ancient great demon was scouted by that dwarf old man from the Western Province before he was taken away.
Wen Li knew the man needed Xie Tinglan’s bloodline and talent, and currently wanted him to grow strong more than anyone else. That was why she had been comfortable ‘selling’ him. As for what methods were used to make Xie Xiao’er strong, she couldn't control that. At the very least, he wouldn't be treated as gently or fed as well as he had been with her.
Wen Li continued, “The fifty people selected represent the cultivation resources for those Soul Formation cultivators for the next hundred years. Don’t underestimate a single century. Although Soul Formation cultivators can live for thousands of years, if they cannot break through a bottleneck, their lifespan will eventually run out and they will perish.”
“In cultivation, what everyone seeks is longevity. If they happen to hit a key period of sudden enlightenment when spiritual energy is abundant, that one hundred years can be worth five hundred years of bitter cultivation.”
Zongzheng Huangyue, who had only seen a few decades of life, suddenly felt as if she had been let in on an incredible secret—a game that only those at the peak of the Four Provinces could peer into. Her scalp tingled. If that were the case, those Soul Formation cultivators would surely send agents or personally cultivate new pawns for the Qingyun Gathering to participate in the Aptitude Battle.
They might not necessarily micromanage every moment, but they would certainly manipulate the life paths of those young elites. They would arrange when they advanced and what they needed, guiding their chosen pawns step-by-step until they could serve their purpose in the Aptitude Battle.
Those so-called favored children of heaven, who had believed since childhood that their peerless talent was why they were given countless resources, were nothing more than selected pawns—chips used by high-level cultivators to gamble for their own benefit.
Zongzheng Huangyue felt a chill run down her spine. If so, then what about her...
Wen Li watched her enter another mental brainstorm, deducing quite a lot of things. A lazy look flickered in Wen Li’s eyes.
“You’re wondering if you’re also a pawn I’ve chosen.”
“...” Her heart skipped a beat.
Zongzheng Huangyue looked up suddenly, her expression shifting subtly, but she shook her head.
“No. Even if I am a pawn Master has chosen, I wouldn't be like the pawns used by the Soul Formation cultivators of the Four Provinces solely for the Qingyun Gathering and Aptitude Battle. If that were the case, Master wouldn't have told me all this.”
Wen Li sighed softly. “I only told you because seeing an old friend reminded me of things from many years ago.”
Zongzheng Huangyue remained silent, continuing to listen.
“The Central Province holds an Aptitude Battle every hundred years. I’ve already lost count of how many times it’s happened. I can’t remember how many I’ve seen, or how many high-spirited geniuses from the Four Provinces have passed before my eyes. However, I do remember the year with Xin Feiliu, her sister Xin Yingru, and Wangquan Chumo. That was a thousand years ago.”
Zongzheng Huangyue was astonished. Senior Brother Wangquan Chumo actually knew them? Well, it made sense. Although they were from different provinces, they would have met if they all went to the Central Province for the competition.
Wen Li said, “Back then, I saved them and talked quite a bit with Xin Yingru. She treated me well—she was gentle, quiet, and possessed a compassionate heart. She was the lead disciple for the Southern Province’s Qingyun Gathering. Her talent was scouted by the Taichu Sect, and after the Aptitude Battle, an exception was made to let her become a legacy disciple of an elder. Unfortunately, she...”
Wen Li stopped there, refusing to continue.
“Forget it. The people of the past are gone.”
“...” Wait, Master!
Zongzheng Huangyue, who had been completely absorbed in the story, stared with wide eyes, a small hint of resentment in her gaze. Master always stopped at the climax; surely she was just teasing her for fun.
Wen Li lost interest in storytelling because...
She sensed two unfamiliar, powerful presences heading toward Tingyin Pavilion.
“Guests have arrived.”
She stood up and brushed the dirt off her behind. With a flick of her hand, Hold On automatically pulled itself out of the mountain rock and flew into her hand.
“Is Master going to meet them?”
Zongzheng Huangyue also stood up and stood beside Wen Li with a cold, serious expression, realizing these people were here because of her Master’s sword strike from earlier.
“Meet them? For what? Let Shengji and Xin Feiliu go deal with them. At this time of night, I should be getting my beauty sleep.”
Wen Li gripped Hold On and wrapped one arm around Zongzheng Huangyue’s waist, carrying her as they flew down from the cliff. She still had to figure out how to solve the problem of Tingyin Pavilion not having a Mid-Stage Soul Formation cultivator. It was too late to create a new god from scratch.
“Alright.”
Zongzheng Huangyue held onto Wen Li’s arm. Although she didn't know what “beauty sleep” meant, her worries faded. If her Master could still joke around, it meant the situation wasn't that serious.
Before the mountain gate of Tingyin Pavilion, Grand Elder Shengji and Third Elder Linghu Ci—who had been summoned by Bai Yu to work again—had deep resentment in their eyes. They wanted to rest too!
As for why they hadn't called Xin Feiliu, they didn't dare. Since their Master hadn't called for her, they certainly weren't going to go and ask her to work.
...
Western Province.
The Far Cold Lands, within the borders of the Xuanbing Kingdom.
A pair of black-gold boots stepped out of a Teleportation Pavilion and onto the stone pavement of the street.
A youth in a black-gold robe wore a veiled hat. Two slender, fair fingers pulled down the wide black brim of the hat, revealing only a section of his handsome chin. His tall, upright posture and low, heavy aura caused passersby to inadvertently steal glances at him.
Xie Tinglan followed a map toward the city exit, preparing to head for the Xuandu Sect.
Three days later.
At the foot of the Xuandu Sect’s mountain.
Xie Tinglan, who had already discovered the whereabouts of the Xuandu Sect’s Grand Elder’s legacy disciple, Zhou Shuoyi, lay in wait within the forest at the base of the mountain, concealing his aura like a predator waiting for its prey.
In the dead of night.
The youth sat alone on a tree branch, deep in thought. Suddenly, he pulled a storage bag out of his own—the one Wen Li had left for him when she departed. Inside were spirit stones and a sect token, but he hadn't used a single spirit stone.
Xie Tinglan opened the bag and took out the token. He didn't know how many times his fingers had rubbed it; one corner had already been smoothed into a translucent, jade-like patina from his constant handling. On the front of the token were strange inscriptions he couldn't understand.
On the back, a few crooked and somewhat ugly words were engraved:
“Xie Tinglan, Xie Xiao’er.”
Where would Master be right now?
Surely she hadn't taken on seven or eight more disciples and forgotten about him already, had she? Those disciples surely weren't as talented as him, let alone as high in cultivation as he was now. He was definitely still the strongest among his Master’s disciples.
Based on that alone, Master definitely wouldn't forget him. So what if she had other disciples? He was the first to follow Master after Yao Dai. How could they compare to him? If he didn't give his permission, they shouldn't even think of calling him Second Senior Brother.
Xie Tinglan pursed his lips and kept his face tense as his mind began to wander again. The more he thought, the angrier he got. If Master didn't throw every single one of those disciples out to gain experience for a few years, and if he and Yao Dai were the only ones traveling alone, he wouldn't let it go when Master returned!
If Master wouldn't do it, then as their Second Senior Brother, he would have to ‘educate’ his junior brothers and sisters. Only after being thrown out to train for a decade or two would they be qualified to call him Senior Brother.
Xie Tinglan was filled with indignation and jealousy. The height of his pout was enough to hang a jar of vinegar, and the envy in his eyes was almost too much to look at. But then he reconsidered; Yao Dai, who was the best at acting spoiled with Master, wasn't by Master’s side either. Those damn junior brothers and sisters couldn't possibly be too close or overly familiar with her.
Hmph. So his relationship with Master was still the best.
Xie Tinglan fumed to himself, then coaxed himself back into a better mood.
In the end, he was still a little angry. He waved his hand and used brute force to chop down a tree before his anger finally dissipated. He looked as if he were hacking down a fellow disciple he had never even met.
Suddenly.
A presence emerged from the mountain gate of the Xuandu Sect.
Xie Tinglan’s gaze turned sharp. He reined in his emotions and immediately followed in secret.
He tracked them all the way to a place three hundred li away from the Xuandu Sect.
Rate on N.U.
