Chapter 6: A Sudden Turn of Events: Re-entering Wuya Hall!

High upon the jade platform, Su Qianyi glared at a youthful-looking Elder to his right, his eyes spitting fire.

“Junior Brother Baiyun! What is the meaning of this? Why did you only pick seven disciples? In previous years, you swept up everyone you could get your hands on!”

“Senior Brother Qianyi, you must be joking,” Baiyun Zhenren replied with an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I saw that your Wuya Hall’s ranks were looking a bit… thin. I merely wished to save one for you out of kindness.”

“Kindness? You’re farting!”

Su Qianyi’s fair face flushed crimson. “I’ve never seen you be so ‘kind’ before! In the past, you threw me the leftover Bing-Middle and Bing-Lower scraps, and I swallowed my pride. But now? You’re trying to shove this Ding-Lower trash down my throat? What kind of garbage dump do you think my Wuya Hall is?!”

Baiyun Zhenren looked helplessly at the Sect Leader.

Guangling Zhenren hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over. “Junior Brother Qianyi, quell your anger. Hasn’t Wuya Hall gone years without new blood? This Xiao Yifeng… well, he met Junior Sister Guanghan first, which suggests deep fortune. Why not take him in and teach him properly?”

“If Senior Brother Guangling thinks his fortune is so deep, why don’t you take him?” Su Qianyi shot back.

Guangling choked on his words. He gave a bitter smile. “My Taiji Hall is already overflowing with disciples. I wouldn’t dare compete with you.”

“Senior Sister Guanghan!” Su Qianyi turned his fury toward Liu Hanyan. “You brought him back. Since you have such a ‘fated connection’ with him, why don’t you take him?”

Liu Hanyan glanced at Xiao Yifeng standing alone in the plaza. Her heart twitched slightly, but her face remained an unmoving mask of ice.

“My Feixue Hall has always been for female disciples,” she said coolly. “Since when have I accepted a male?”

“Junior Brother Qianyi, stop being unreasonable,” the gaunt Guangwei Zhenren interjected sternly. “We follow the True Martial Ranking. Your Wuya Hall placed last. Your skills are inferior to others. What is there to argue about?”

Su Qianyi, hit where it hurt, looked ready to explode. “I don’t care! I won’t take him! What are you going to do about it, Senior Brother Guangwei?”

He stared daggers at Guangwei, looking ready to start a brawl right there on the dais.

The Wentian Sect held a disciple competition every ten years—the True Martial Ranking. The results determined the selection order for new recruits. The winner picked first; the loser got the leftovers.

Wuya Hall was perpetually dead last.

For years, they had been scraping the bottom of the barrel, picking up the “crooked melons and cracked dates” that other Halls rejected. But recently, the crop of disciples had been small, and the other Halls picked everyone clean. Wuya Hall had gone several years with zero intake.

It was a vicious cycle: no new talent meant poor rankings, which meant worse talent next time. Wuya Hall was spiraling into irrelevance.

And this year? The only “leftover” was a Ding-Lower dud. No wonder Su Qianyi was livid.

“Junior Brother Qianyi, Junior Brother Guangwei, enough!” Guangling Zhenren sighed, his voice heavy with authority. “You are esteemed masters. Bickering like children—what kind of example are you setting?”

“Junior Brother Guangwei is right,” Guangling continued. “Without rules, there is no order. One must accept defeat gracefully. If you are dissatisfied, prove it in the next True Martial Ranking.”

“Exactly,” Liu Hanyan chimed in, seizing the opportunity to add insult to injury. “Junior Brother Qianyi, accept your loss.”

Internally, she thought, Little brat, I’ve done my utmost for you. Good luck.

With three powerful Hall Masters united against him, and the others nodding in agreement, Su Qianyi was cornered.

“Fine! Fine! FINE!”

Su Qianyi trembled with rage. “We’ll see who laughs last at the next True Martial Ranking!”

With a furious flick of his sleeve, he transformed into a streak of red light and shot into the sky, abandoning the ceremony in a huff.

The other Hall Masters exchanged awkward glances.

“Xiang Tiange,” Guangwei Zhenren said, turning to the disciple who had been standing behind Su Qianyi. “Why are you still standing there? Take your Junior Brother home.”

Xiang Tiange was a tall, burly young man with a face that radiated simple honesty. He looked down at Xiao Yifeng, standing small and lonely in the vast white plaza, and felt a pang of pity.

He leaped down from the high platform and landed softly in front of the boy.

“Junior Brother,” he said gently. “Come with me.”

Xiao Yifeng, unaware of the high-level squabble above, had been wallowing in disappointment. Seeing Xiang Tiange appear was like seeing a light in the dark. A sudden turn of events!

“Senior Brother Xiang,” Xiao Yifeng nodded, suppressing his joy.

On the sidelines, Ye Jiusi finally let out a breath he had been holding.

With the drama concluded, Guangling Zhenren gave a standard speech encouraging diligence in cultivation, then dismissed the assembly.

Xiang Tiange summoned a cloud and pulled Xiao Yifeng up. They soared into the sky, the wind rushing past their ears as the majestic scenery of the Wentian Sect unfolded below.

Xiang Tiange glanced at the boy. Unlike his Master, he felt no annoyance. He was a simple, kind-hearted soul who disliked conflict.

“You’re Xiao Yifeng, right?” Xiang Tiange reached out and patted Xiao Yifeng’s head. “I’m Xiang Tiange. You can call me Senior Brother Xiang. Don’t be sad about what happened. From now on, we are family.”

Xiao Yifeng felt a lump in his throat. In his past life, Xiang Tiange had always treated him with this same unconditional kindness.

“En!” Xiao Yifeng nodded vigorously. “Senior Brother Xiang!”

“Good, good. Let me tell you about our Sect and our Hall,” Xiang Tiange said with a warm smile. “We’re all family here, no need for formalities.”

As they flew over the peaks, Xiang Tiange began his introduction.

Although Xiao Yifeng knew all of this by heart, he listened with genuine interest.

The Wentian Sect was a titan of the Righteous Path, one of the Three Great Powers alongside Xuanyue Palace and Wuxiang Temple. It was a conglomeration of nine massive lineages, or “Halls.”

Originally, there were only Five Halls—the “Main Lineage.” Their Masters typically used the generational Daoist name “Guang” (like Guangling, Guangwei). The other four Halls were later mergers, considered branch lineages.

Su Qianyi belonged to the Main Lineage, but he hated his given Daoist name, “Guangpu” (meaning Broad/Common), so he stubbornly used his secular name.

Wuya Hall was no small entity. It occupied fifteen mountain peaks and had once been the premier Hall of the entire sect. It had fallen on hard times, yes, but its legacy was deep.

Thinking about his entry, Xiao Yifeng realized his situation was tricky.

There were three ways to enter:

Selection: Like today. Usually leads to becoming a True Disciple or at least a Second-Generation Disciple (disciple of a disciple).

Recommendation: Using connections or money.

Direct Recruitment: A Hall Master personally finding a disciple.

With Su Qianyi storming off in a rage, Xiao Yifeng knew he wouldn’t be accepted as Su Qianyi’s personal True Disciple. That meant he would likely be shoved onto one of the older disciples—making him a “Second-Generation Disciple.”

Liu Hanyan, you troublesome woman! Xiao Yifeng gritted his teeth. I gave you a profound technique, and you demoted me a whole generation! I suffered a huge loss!

“Yifeng, are you worried about your status?” Xiang Tiange misinterpreted his silence. “Don’t worry. Even if Master doesn’t accept you, I will take you as my disciple! With me around, no one in Wuya Hall will bully you!”

“Senior Brother Xiang…”

“It’s okay,” Xiang Tiange beamed. “Wuya Hall might be small, but our fellow disciples are close. We are all good people. Just treat this as your home.”