At that moment, those gathered inside the hall were deep in conversation, seemingly discussing some matter. The young Daoist who had led Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu there straightened his robes at the doorway and spoke with respectful deference: "Sect Leader, Martial Uncles, this disciple Chang Jian, acting on orders, brings these two—"
Before he could finish, a piercing shriek suddenly rang out across the sacred and solemn hall, cutting him off: "Ghost! A ghost!"
Chang Jian was startled, but Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu were startled even more — for though the voice was shrill and harsh, it was unmistakably familiar. Zhang Fan could not afford to pause; he rushed straight into the hall and cried out at the top of his voice: "Second Uncle Wang! Second Uncle Wang! Is that you?"
In his desperation, his cries carried a sharp edge of anxiety and a tremor on the verge of tears. The onlookers saw this and felt their hearts twist with pity. Then, at the far end of the hall behind the crowd, crouched in a corner against the wall, they found a middle-aged man dressed as a woodcutter—both hands clutched over his head, body curled tight into the corner, trembling all over, his muffled voice still leaking through the gaps between his fingers.
Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu, who had followed him inside, immediately recognized the man as a woodcutter from Caomiao Village — surnamed Wang, the second eldest in his family. He was a kind-hearted soul, always wearing a smile, and was wonderful with all the children in their group. Whenever he headed up the mountain to chop wood, he would bring back wild fruits from the hills to share among them.
Zhang Fan didn't stop to think. He rushed forward, ran to Uncle Wang Er's side, seized him by the shoulders, and shouted: "Uncle Wang Er, what in the world happened?! Why are all the people in the village — why are they all dead?! And where's my mother? Where's my father? What happened to them? Say something!"
Hearing Zhang Fan's relentless barrage of questions, Second Uncle Wang seemed to be moved. He fell silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head and looked at Zhang Fan standing before him.
Throughout the grand hall, everyone was instantly shaken to the core. One by one they fell silent, and even some of those who had been seated in their chairs could not help but rise to their feet, their gazes fixed upon this very spot.
Yet Second Uncle Wang's eyes were rimmed red, filled with fear and bewilderment. He studied Zhang Fan for a long moment, yet said not a single word, his brow tightly furrowed, as though straining with great effort to work something out.
At that moment, someone from Qingyun Sect couldn't help but step forward, just about to speak, when they were quietly held back by the person beside them.
Zhang Fan saw that Second Uncle Wang was completely unresponsive, staring at him with lifeless, vacant eyes. Panic surged in his chest, and he called out loudly: "Second Uncle Wang, what's wrong with you?"
Unexpectedly, the loud shout startled Second Uncle Wang so badly that he shuddered from head to toe, his face flooding with sheer terror. He suddenly went tumbling and scrambling to one side, wrapped both arms around his head, curled himself into a ball, and wailed without stop: "A ghost!"
A wave of sighs swept through the great hall. Disappointment was written across every face among the Qingyun Sect disciples, and those who had just risen to their feet slumped back down in defeat. Zhang Fan was about to press further with his questions when Lin Jingyu beside him grabbed him by the arm.
Zhang Fan turned back in confusion, only to see tears glistening at the corners of Lin Jingyu's eyes. "It's no use," she said in a desolate voice. "He's already lost his mind."
A thunderclap seemed to go off in Zhang Fan's mind. He stood rooted to the spot, struck dumb.
Lin Jingyu was a year older than him and of keener observation. He cast a glance across the great hall and took in those assembled — all dressed in the robes of Qingyu Sect, men and women alike, Daoist-robed and plainly clad in equal measure. Most bore weapons at their sides, longswords predominating. Six of them sat in chairs and stood out above the rest, possessed of a bearing wholly apart from the ordinary. Among these six, three wore Daoist robes and three were dressed as layfolk. The one seated at the center in particular — draped in an ink-green Daoist robe, with the crane-boned poise and immortal air of a transcendent, his eyes warm and luminously bright — was, naturally, none other than the renowned sect master of Qingyu Sect: True Person Daoxuan himself.
Lin Jingyu said no more. He grabbed Zhang Fan, rushed forward to where the six stood, and dropped to his knees before True Person Daoxuan, kowtowing without cease—*thud, thud, thud*.
True Person Daoxuan studied the two of them with a long, searching look, then let out a quiet sigh. "Poor children — rise."
Lin Jingyu did not rise to his feet. He looked up at this figure of immortal bearing and said in a grief-stricken voice: "True Person, we two are young and ignorant. This great calamity has fallen upon us without warning, and we truly do not know what to do. You possess boundless divine power and can perceive past and future alike—please, you must stand up for us!"
Zhang Fan was never one for eloquent speech, and his mind was in a jumble at that moment; he followed suit and cried out, "Yes, Immortal Grandfather, you must stand up for us!"
Everyone present couldn't help but smile at that. Zhang Fan's words were naturally the innocent prattle of a child, yet in the moment that followed, every gaze in the room came to rest upon Lin Jingyu.
At his age, caught in the midst of such upheaval and standing before a figure as renowned as True Person Daoxuan, Lin Jingyu's words remained measured and methodical, his thoughts clear and composed. This calm composure far surpassed that of an ordinary child—to say nothing of Zhang Fan, who knew nothing of the world and still regarded Daoxuan as some manner of celestial immortal.
The Grass Temple Village massacre was an event without precedent in the thousand-year history of Qing Yun Sect—something utterly unheard of—and it had occurred right at the sect's own doorstep. The entire sect was shaken to its core. Upon receiving the report, True Person Daoxuan was overcome with a surge of shock and fury, and immediately summoned the heads of the other six branches to convene. At that moment, all were in attendance save for Master Shuiyue of the Bamboo Peak branch, who had yet to arrive; the remaining five branch heads were all present.
Those who could occupy the seats of Qingyun's Seven Veins were naturally the foremost figures within Qingyun Sect; and the foremost figures of Qingyun Sect were likewise the supreme elites among all cultivators in this world. Every person present had eyes as sharp as torches, and in that moment each arrived at the same silent thought: *What a fine piece of jade.*
True Person Daoxuan smiled faintly. "What has come to pass and what is yet to come, I cannot say — but since you dwell at the foot of Qingyun Mountain, my Qingyun Sect will naturally not stand by and do nothing. I simply have a few questions I wish to ask you. I hope you will answer them honestly."
Lin Jingyu nodded. "I will tell you everything I know. Please, True Person, ask what you will."
True Person Daoxuan nodded. "How did you manage to escape this tribulation?"
Lin Jingyu was taken aback. "True Person, I remember falling asleep in my own bed at home last night, yet when I woke this morning I found myself lying outdoors beneath a pine tree, side by side with Fan. I have no idea what happened. Fan woke me up afterwards, and we ran back to the village together — and then we saw that sight, and I was frightened unconscious."
True Person Daoxuan frowned and looked toward Zhang Fan. "You were the one who woke him. So what about you?"
"Zhang Fan thought about it but had no idea how he ended up there. When he came to, he saw Jingyu lying beside me, so I woke him up."
True Person Daoxuan and the other seated elders exchanged glances, bewilderment plain in their eyes. If some hidden master had intervened to save them, why rescue only these two children? But if not—there was simply no way to account for it!
True Person Daoxuan fell silent for a moment, then said, "So, you know nothing of what happened last night."
Both spoke in unison: "Yes."
True Person Daoxuan let out a sigh and called out: "Song Daren."
"Your disciple is present." A Qingyun disciple stepped forward in response — tall and powerfully built, dressed in the garb of a layman. He had been standing just behind a short, stout man who remained seated; by all appearances, he was that man's disciple.
True Person Daoxuan said: "You were the first to discover the matter of Caomiao Village — go over the situation of that day once more."
Song Daren's voice was loud and coarse. "Early this morning, this disciple and several fellow disciples were returning from an errand, flying back through the air. While passing over Caomiao Village, this disciple happened to glance down and discovered that over two hundred corpses had been piled together within the village—a sight too gruesome to behold. This disciple and the others quickly descended to investigate. Behind the village we found only these two children; seeing that they were unconscious, we had one of our junior brothers carry them back first. Afterward, in the outhouse at the village's edge—" he raised a finger pointing at Second Uncle Wang, who was huddled in the corner of the wall, "—we found this man as well. Yet his gaze was vacant and his mind in a daze. No matter how this disciple questioned him, he gave no answer, only repeating over and over the words 'evil ghost.'"
Lin Jingyu's body gave a shudder, and he asked in a trembling voice, "Excuse me, elder brother—have you done a headcount?"
Song Daren, sympathy written across his eyes, sought out a junior brother who regularly traded firewood with your village—a man well acquainted with its residents. After his identification and our own tally, of the forty-two households and two hundred and forty-seven souls in Grass Temple Village, all have perished—save for the three of you."
Though they had long harbored a premonition in their hearts, hearing Song Daren's unambiguous confirmation still left Lin Jingyu and Zhang Fan unable to stop their vision from going black—nearly fainting all over again.
True Person Daoxuan let out a soft sigh. With a gentle wave of his left hand, a red bead flew out from within his sleeve and drifted to a stop before Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu. It rolled several times across their foreheads and over their hearts, and at once a wave of cool, refreshing energy seeped through their entire bodies. Somehow, the taut nerves that had been wound tight inside them seemed to loosen at last. An overwhelming weariness washed over them, and unable to resist, they lay down right there on the floor of the great hall and fell fast asleep.
True Person Daoxuan waved his hand. The disciples standing in attendance bowed one after another, then withdrew in order. Within the great hall, only the six of them remained.
At this moment, the short and stout man spoke: "Senior Brother Sect Master, you have used the 'Soul-Settling Pearl' to temporarily pacify them — but once they awaken, what do you intend to do with them?"
True Person Daoxuan pondered for a moment, then turned to the Daoist seated first on the left and asked, "Junior Brother Cangsong, what is your opinion?"
Daoist Cangsong was tall of stature and grave in countenance, the Peak Master of the Dragon Peak lineage within Qingyun Sect. Among all the lineages of Qingyun Sect, none commanded greater influence and renown than Dragon Peak — save only for the main lineage of True Person Daoxuan himself. Cangsong was severe by nature. Beyond overseeing the disciples of his own lineage, he held concurrent authority over all matters of punishment throughout Qingyun Sect. Though the disciples of Qingyun Sect held their Sect Master, True Person Daoxuan, in the deepest reverence, the one they truly feared most was none other than this humorless Peak Master Cangsong.
Daoist Cangsong's thick brows drew together in a frown. After a long moment he spoke: "This matter is riddled with doubt — I fear we cannot get to the bottom of it in haste. But the villagers of Grass Temple have always been simple and honest folk; we cannot turn our backs on their orphans. I think we should take the two of them under our Sect."
True Person Daoxuan nodded. "That is my thought as well. These two children have lived bitter and solitary lives — it falls to us to look after them. Only, I have not taken on disciples for many years now. I wonder which of my junior brothers might be willing to accept them under their wing?"
At that moment, that short, stout man—Senior Brother Zuo Tianbuyi of the Big Bamboo Peak lineage within Qingyun Sect—spoke: "In my opinion, it would be best not to place the two of them under the same master. Their backgrounds are too similar; if they were kept together, every time they laid eyes on each other they would be reminded of the past. With such festering resentment never dissipating, I fear it would not bode well for either of them in the years to come!"
True Person Daoxuan considered the matter and found his junior brother's words reasonable. "Those two are young in years, and having suffered such a great upheaval, we ought to properly dissolve the resentment in their hearts. As things stand, it is indeed unsuitable to have them dwell together under one roof. That will mean two of my junior brothers must each take one of them in." As he spoke, his gaze swept across the assembled crowd.
From the other five-vein seats, with Cang Song at their head, the gazes of Tian Buyi and the rest fell upon Lin Jingyu almost in unison, roving and circling, unwilling to look away—yet not one of them spared a glance for Zhang Fan standing nearby.
In the path of cultivation, aptitude is paramount. There is a saying widely held throughout the world: a single moment of gifted comprehension surpasses a hundred years of diligent practice. None understood this more keenly than the disciples of Qingyun Sect. In the days when the Sect stood at the brink of ruin, salvation came through a single figure of breathtaking brilliance—Daoist Qingye, the founding ancestor. Young though he was, his natural gifts far exceeded those of ordinary men. He broke through the ancient scrolls left by his predecessors, and his cultivation surpassed every generation that had come before. Through his efforts alone, Qingyun Sect was transformed from a dying ember into a roaring flame—flourishing and full of life—until at last it rose to stand as the foremost leader of the righteous path beneath the heavens.
Moreover, while accomplished masters are indeed hard to come by, disciples of superior aptitude are equally rare. Lin Jingyu's talent surpassed his peers, his roots and bones exceptionally gifted—naturally, the masters of every branch within Qingyu Sect took a liking to him at first glance.
After a moment of silence, Tian Buyi cleared his throat. "Hey, Senior Brother Sect Leader, you know our Big Bamboo Peak lineage has always been short on disciples — so this time, let me take one off your hands."
The hand was just about to point at Lin Jingyu when Shang Zhengliang, the seat-elder of "Chaoyang Peak" standing nearby, rose first and stepped in front to block the gesture. He addressed True Person Daoxuan: "Elder Brother Sect Master, the moment I laid eyes on this child today I felt an immediate affinity with him — it must be a bond of fate carried over from a past life. Why not let him enter under my tutelage?"
Qingyun Sect had a long history, and while its various branches maintained a surface cordiality, beneath that harmony they were always quietly competing with one another. Seeing that Lin Jingyu's aptitude was exceptional, none of them could say whether he might one day become the next Patriarch Qingye. What was more, taking him as a disciple cost nothing at worst — merely gaining one more student — while allowing another branch to claim him was simply out of the question. Under ordinary circumstances, given True Person Daoxuan's prestige and cultivation, no one would have dared to contest his claim. But since Daoxuan himself had declined to take the boy in, how could anyone afford to let such an opportunity slip by?
No sooner had Shang Zhengliang finished speaking than Daoist Zuoyun of Luoxia Peak chimed in from beside him: "Senior Brother Shang, you already have two hundred disciples under your tutelage. If every single one of them shares a predestined bond with you, your store of karmic affinity would seem rather excessive."
Shang Zhengliang's face flushed red. He was just about to speak when Tian Buyi cut in ahead of him: "Senior Brother Yun is absolutely right. Speaking of disciple numbers, even the smallest of your peaks has over a hundred. Yet our Big Bamboo Peak only has seven — that is simply too unseemly. Why not—"
At that moment, Daoist Cangsong interrupted his junior brother. "These two children come from such a pitiful background — what we owe them is the very best care, not deliberation over our own head counts." With that, he turned to True Person Daoxuan and cupped his hands in a respectful salute. "Senior Brother, this child is indeed extraordinary material. Please allow me to take him under my tutelage. I shall instruct him with all my heart, guide him to greatness, and in so doing bring solace to the souls of all those lost in Caomiao Village."
True Person Daoxuan paused in thought. Tian Buyi, Shang Zhengliang, and the others all felt a sinking feeling in their hearts. Sure enough, after a brief moment, True Person Daoxuan spoke: "Junior Brother Cangsong's reasoning also holds merit. Then let the boy enter your tutelage."
Cang Song smiled faintly in thanks to his Senior Brother, the Sect Master."
All those present saw it clearly. Having shared the same sect as Cangsong for many years, they knew well that he was not one to smile lightly in ordinary times — and so today's smile betrayed just how delighted he was within. They could not help but feel a quiet, simmering resentment. Yet True Person Daoxuan had already spoken his piece, and Cangsong's Dragon Peak lineage was too formidable a force to challenge. They had no choice but to swallow their grievance and let the matter rest.
Daoxuan paused, then said: "And this other one—"
Shang Zhengliang coughed once and closed his eyes. Yun Yan looked up at the carved ceiling panels of the grand hall, as if suddenly finding the patterns there exceptionally beautiful. Tian Buyi let out a dry, hollow chuckle, then was abruptly overcome by drowsiness and seemed on the verge of drifting off entirely. And Zeng Shuchang, the seated elder of Wind Return Peak—the other faction who had not even managed to get a word in before being cut off—simply sank into meditation, as though he had never paid the slightest attention to the proceedings here from the very start.
Only Daoist Cangsong, having won a complete and crushing victory, swept the assembled crowd with a cold glance—yet his eyes were full of quiet amusement.
True Person Daoxuan couldn't help feeling a touch of embarrassment himself, but a man of his stature would naturally never say anything so graceless as *"This one has poor aptitude—are you really going to turn him away?"* With a single flicker of thought, he immediately found himself a scapegoat.
"Junior Brother Tian." At this moment, True Person Daoxuan's smile looked so kind and gentle.
Tian Buyi's heart gave a sudden lurch. He leaped to his feet, about to speak, but True Person Daoxuan beat him to it: "The matter at Grass Temple Village was first uncovered by your disciple Song Daren. It seems this child shares quite a deep affinity with your Big Bamboo Peak lineage. Heh heh—you might as well take him in yourself."
Tian Buyi grew deeply alarmed. Zhang Fan's aptitude was ordinary — a single glance made that plain enough. Taking him under his wing would only be a burden, and naturally he was displeased. He was just about to voice his objections, but how could Daoxuan allow him any chance to speak? Cutting in swiftly, he said: "Enough — this matter is hereby concluded. All junior martial brothers, take note to investigate this affair as well. Understood?"
Cangsong and the others rose together, saying in unison, "Yes."
True Person Daoxuan gave a nod, coughed several times, and without so much as glancing at Tian Buyi's expression, strode briskly into the rear hall. The moment his figure vanished from sight, a burst of laughter suddenly rang out from the Yuqing Hall of Qingyun Sect.
※※※
Song Daren, a disciple of Great Bamboo Peak, had been waiting outside the Jade Purity Hall for some time. When the elders finally emerged, he hurried forward to meet them—only to stop short at the sight of his master, Tian Buyi, carrying Zhang Fan in his arms. "Master, what's wrong?"
Tian Buyi took one look at who it was, and a surge of irritation rose in his chest. "What? What?!" he snapped. "Are you stupid or something?! Just take it already!"
Song Daren hurriedly took the still-sleeping Zhang Fan into his arms. Tian Buyi was seething with rage, yet the corner of his eye happened to catch Shang Zhengliang, Yun, and the others filing out at the same moment, all barely suppressing their laughter. His anger flared all the hotter, and he shouted at Song Daren: "Move it already! What are you standing there gaping for?"
Enough. Without another thought for anything else, he swept his right hand through the void—a crimson radiance flashed, and a scarlet longsword rose to his summons. With no visible motion at all, he drifted atop the blade, which cleaved the air and sped away into the distance.
Song Daren was momentarily at a loss, but at least he now understood that he had gained a junior martial brother. He looked down at Zhang Fan nestled in his arms and couldn't help saying: "Junior Brother, I still don't know your name."
Zhang Fan slept on regardless, lost to the world, wholly unaware that his fate had already turned a great corner without his ever knowing it.