Chapter 362: Don't Say You Are a Disciple of Daoist Buyu When You Go Out

Meng Jingzhou suppressed the urge to unleash his Single's Curse Punch; though he had been slighted once, it hardly warranted cursing someone to eternal bachelorhood.

It lacked a proper moral compass.

With Lan Ting’s voluntary surrender, the contest drew to its final curtain, leaving the cultivators beneath the stage still yearning for more.

Was this truly the clash of geniuses? It had ended far too swiftly to satisfy their cravings.

"From this day forth, I shan't have the audacity to call myself an early Golden Core cultivator. I feel as though ten of me combined would not equal one of them."

"Who indeed could deny it? When I first formed my core, I flattered myself that I had become a grand master of the Golden Core, a figure of renown in some corner of the world. Having witnessed their battle, I had best return quietly and resume my meditation."

To achieve the Golden Core realm was to secure a clan's prosperity for five centuries, allowing one to rule as an ancestor in lesser domains; in Yanjiang County, for instance, there were but three within that rank.

Thus had they joyously attained their cores, and joyously attended this Golden Core Appraising Assembly to forge ties with fellow Daoists, only to find their confidence utterly shattered by the combat of Lu Yang and his peers.

The venerable Elder Kang had long foreseen that encountering such a chasm would leave them disheartened, a disparity too profound to easily digest: "You need not belittle yourselves so. To reach the Golden Core stage is already to surpass ninety-nine percent of all cultivators, and as holders of the middle three grades of the Golden Core, the Nascent Soul realm remains within your grasp. How can you negate your own worth based upon a single battle?"

Yuan Zhi offered a bitter smile: "It is not that we choose to negate ourselves, but rather that the divide between us is simply too vast. We can scarce feel that we have surpassed ninety-nine percent of our brethren."

Elder Kang shook his head: "You must not compare yourselves to disciples of the immortal sects, most especially the five gathered here today. Such geniuses do not appear even once in several centuries or millennia, yet they have clustered together in this very era. Why? Because they are born of destiny, destined to rise to prominence in the struggle of this great age, and perhaps even to stand as the protagonists who rule it!"

Elder Kang had made his meaning perfectly plain: this crowd of theirs fared well enough among ordinary cultivators, the sort one could find in great numbers across the Central Continent; whereas the five including Lu Yang were wonders unseen in a thousand years, making any comparison meaningless, so they ought not to seek out their own vexation.

Having been eliminated, Young Master Yan, Gu Qisheng, and the others watched the combat upon the stage, their eyes gleaming with intensity.

None among them had yet reached the age of eighteen, yet those five had not only formed their cores but could challenge opponents across realms. Looking at themselves, still agonizing over the formation of their own cores, the gap was visible to the naked eye.

Yet they did not lose heart; the difference was so monumental that it stifled any seed of rivalry. They merely felt that Lu Yang and the others were formidable, and through witnessing this clash, they recognized their own flaws, resolving to return and continue their cultivation.

Lu Yang paid no heed to Meng Jingzhou's side of things; hearing that his companion's match had concluded earliest, he expressed great surprise.

"How did you manage to lose so quickly?"

With a darkened visage, Meng Jingzhou waved Lu Yang away: "Begone, begone, begone! Do not bring up that topic with me, lest I treat you to a round of my Single's Curse Punch."

Lu Yang harbored no fear of Meng Jingzhou's threats; protected as he was by an immortal, how could he be cursed by a mere Meng Jingzhou?

As they spoke, Lan Ting approached them, holding a three-colored stone the size of a palm in her hand.

"What is that?"

Lan Ting smiled: "Has Senior Brother Lu Yang forgotten? The reward for the first place, a core-forming spiritual object, capable of increasing the probability of forming a core by fifty percent."

Lu Yang had heard of such items; they were fiercely pursued by cultivators at the half-step Golden Core or False Core stages, bearing prices steep enough to drain a man's entire fortune.

The Daoist Sect possessed everything under heaven, save for core-forming spiritual objects.

Such was the case across the other four great immortal sects as well.

They were all geniuses; when had any of them ever required external aids to form a core?

Since Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou held the first and second ranks, they were entitled to two core-forming spiritual objects and two volumes of core-forming insights.

"Cease your jesting, Lan Ting. What use have Old Meng and I for such things? Give them to the third and fourth places."

Lan Ting smiled and put away the stone; it was a token from her personal collection, brought forth merely to tease Lu Yang, as the actual rewards had already been delivered into the hands of the third and fourth place winners.

Bai Ming and Yan Tianzhi also walked over, offering an invitation: "It is rare for us to meet. Shall we find a place to sit together?"

"Very well," Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou agreed.

As fellow disciples of the five great immortal sects, dealings between them were inevitable.

"The Governor's subordinates recommended a few taverns to us, all of great renown within the city, which have opened temporary branches here."

Bai Ming led the four into a tavern of three stories; though hastily constructed by means of magic, its decor mirrored that of a millennium-old establishment, showing no small measure of care.

Seeing Bai Ming enter, the tavern attendant inquired warmly: "Grandmaster, do you wish to receive alms?"

"...I have come to dine."

"To dine on vegetarian food?"

Bai Ming flared in anger: "I am no monk!"

The attendant suddenly recalled a rumor whispered through the martial world regarding a certain technique that employed hair as a weapon—where every strand could be cast to devastating effect. Yet this art bore a flaw: the hair consumed would never grow back, dwindling strand by strand with each use.

It was said someone had discovered this manual, mastered it to completion, and upon encountering a formidable foe, fought a battle that left his head entirely bald, whereupon he entered the monastery as a monk.

Thus, some suspected the technique had been spread by the Buddhist sects as a means of recruitment.

The attendant’s gaze toward Bai Ming turned to one of profound pity—yet another unfortunate soul unable to accept the loss of his locks.

"Ah, right, take this. You may use it for the time being." Seeing this display, Lu Yang drew forth a wig and handed it to Bai Ming.

Ever since he had learned the Arhat Punch, Lu Yang kept a regular stock of wigs against any unforeseen need; and lo, it had found its purpose this very day.

Staring at the wig offered by the true culprit, Bai Ming suppressed the urge to draw his spear and run Lu Yang through, donning the hairpiece with an ill-tempered grace.

Lu Yang's Arhat Punch did not permanently halt hair growth; wearing a wig to tide over a month would suffice.

"Allow me to introduce him. This is Yan Tianzhi of the Prison-Suppressing Sect. He is a man of few words," Bai Ming introduced.

Yan Tianzhi nodded, uttering not a syllable.

He appeared indeed to be a taciturn sort. Lu Yang offered his greetings: "I am Lu Yang, from the Daoist Sect, disciple of the Unspeaking Daoist."

"Meng Jingzhou. We have already crossed blades."

Upon hearing Lu Yang's lineage, Yan Tianzhi’s eyes widened to the size of saucers: "It... it was you... Master... harm... harmed to death... my Master!"

"My master harmed your master to death?" Lu Yang's first instinct was disbelief; no matter how unreliable the Unspeaking Daoist might be, he would never commit such an atrocity.

Lan Ting cleared her throat slightly and explained: "Yan Tianzhi suffers from a stutter and prefers brief speech. The matter is not as you imagine."

"Yan Tianzhi’s master is the Sect Master of the Prison-Suppressing Sect. In his youth, his relations with the Unspeaking Daoist were exceedingly poor. When he learned that the Unspeaking Daoist had become the Sect Master of the Daoist Sect, he was filled with righteous indignation, wondering what virtue or capability allowed the Unspeaking Daoist to hold such a title. He declared he would rather shorten his life by eight thousand years if it meant seeing the Unspeaking Daoist removed from that seat."

Those of the Integration Stage could live for eight thousand years.

"Since the current Sect Master is your Eldest Senior Sister Yun Zhi, Yan Tianzhi’s master felt he could not break his oath. He erected a tombstone for himself, and during ordinary days, he buries himself inside when there is nothing to do, crawling out only when matters arise, telling everyone he meets that he is already dead."

Lu Yang: "......"

He recalled the words his Eldest Senior Sister had once spoken: when traveling abroad, one must never reveal oneself as the disciple of the Unspeaking Daoist, lest it invite unnecessary trouble.