Chapter Ten: The Towering Ancient Tree

“Yes, this time we descended to Willow City and recruited five disciples,” Wu Yaoqing said, handing the roster of names to the senior inner sect elder leading the group.

“With the sect leader in seclusion, all matters within the Star Feather Sect are temporarily managed by me,” the elder said with a smile as he flipped through the roster.

“Who is Bai Jingyan?” the elder pointed at the name. “A Level Three Martial Disciple wouldn’t meet the qualifications to join the Star Feather Sect.”

Though a smile played on the elder’s face, those present could tell it was a hollow one, like a mask concealing his true feelings.

Bai Jingyan stepped forward, cupped his hands respectfully, and said, “I am Bai Jingyan, paying respects to the senior elder.”

“You are Bai Jingyan? This list says you are only a Level Three Martial Disciple. Is that true?”

“Respectfully, senior elder, I was already a Level Four Martial Disciple when I took the test, and yesterday I advanced to Level Five,” Bai Jingyan replied.

Upon hearing this, the elder raised his eyebrows and then laughed.

“It seems Brother Wu has been too busy these past few days and even got this wrong,” the elder said, stroking his beard as he turned to Wu Yaoqing. “Brother Wu, take them for a tour. The elders from other cities won’t be back for a few days, so you can choose your accommodations ahead of them, ha ha ha.”

“Yes.”

Wu Yaoqing led them away.

“Wu Yaoqing isn’t the type to be careless. Looks like we’ll need to keep an eye on this Bai Jingyan these days,” the elder muttered.

...

As they walked, Wu Yaoqing explained the rules and cautions within the Star Feather Sect.

They arrived at a sparring arena surrounded by many disciples. Two were practicing on the platform.

“This is the sect’s martial arena,” Wu Yaoqing introduced. “As I mentioned, private fights among disciples are strictly forbidden. If conflicts arise, you can resolve them here.”

Bai Jingyan and the others nodded in understanding.

“What if there is an issue that cannot be resolved?” Liu Shihong raised his hand, like a student asking a teacher.

Liu’s question was apt—given the sect’s size, if a dispute escalated to life or death, a martial arena would not suffice.

Wu Yaoqing nodded and said, “Follow me. I will take you to a place.”

He led them through winding forest paths to a cliff.

The cliff was like a sword piercing the sky, and beneath it yawned a bottomless abyss.

At the edge stood a tall platform woven from iron chains, but no one was around.

“This is the Deathmatch Arena,” Wu Yaoqing said coldly. “If a fight must be to the death, it takes place here.”

“But...” Wu Yaoqing paused.

“This concerns life and death. Disciples must obtain permission from an elder or the head of the Judicial Hall before stepping onto the Deathmatch Arena.”

Wu Yaoqing looked at them and continued, “So, there are only two places in the sect where fighting is permitted: the martial arena and the Deathmatch Arena. Any other fighting found elsewhere will be handed over to the Judicial Hall.”

“For severe cases,” his tone grew even colder, “the offender will be executed on the spot.”

In short, this was a world of survival of the fittest. Even righteous sects allow killing if one has the power.

Everyone nodded in understanding.

“All right, now I will take you to your lodgings,” Wu Yaoqing said with a smile.

They walked back, twisting and turning until they saw many houses, with disciples practicing inside. Nearby were the elders’ residences.

Wu Yaoqing stopped before a row of wooden cabins. “This will be your home. If you need anything, come to the fourth cabin in the row ahead and find me.”

They all nodded and entered their respective rooms.

Bai Jingyan pushed open his door and stepped inside.

The room was simply furnished but tidy—table, chairs, bookshelf, and bed. Everything necessary was there.

Inside the desk drawer lay a lock and a set of keys.

“Brother Jingyan.”

Nanmen Chuyao stood at the door, smiling. “I live right next door. If you need anything, you can always come to me.”

Bai Jingyan nodded.

“Oh, by the way,” Chuyao said, “Elder Wu mentioned that every month, disciples may use the Spirit Gathering Array.”

“Thank you, Yao Yao.”

“Rest well, Brother Jingyan. We must rise at dawn tomorrow.”

With that, Chuyao’s cheeks flushed as she returned to her room.

After she left, Bai Jingyan closed the door and sat cross-legged on the bed, silently cultivating the Chaos Art.

...

At dawn, Bai Jingyan opened his eyes. Slowly raising his right hand, a deep black mist, as if drawn by an invisible force, hovered lightly above his palm.

The black mist was far more stable than before, likely due to Bai Jingyan’s increased cultivation.

“I can’t yet unleash the full power of the Chaos Art, but in a fierce battle, catching an opponent off guard with this mist could be devastating.”

Thinking this, Bai Jingyan exhaled, dispersing the spiritual energy from his palm. Just as he was about to leave, his eyes caught a martial manual on the bookshelf.

“Thousand-Year Strike.”

For some reason, though he had never seen this technique before, Bai Jingyan felt a faint, inexplicable sting.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought of the manual. If time permitted, he might practice it later.

Just as he stepped out, he ran into Nanmen Chuyao, who had just left her room.

Before they could greet each other, a voice rang out sharply: “All disciples! Morning training begins now. You have half an hour to gather in the plaza, or you will have an extra two and a half hours of training!”

The two joined the other disciples heading to the plaza.

The plaza was vast, capable of holding hundreds of thousands. Bai Jingyan and Nanmen Chuyao stood among the crowd facing a towering ancient tree.

The disciples seated themselves beneath the tree to meditate and regulate their breath.

Under the ancient tree, bathed in morning dew, they silently absorbed its spiritual energy, filling their dantian.

“Truly worthy of being a century-old ancient tree,” Bai Jingyan murmured.

Within his body, much of his spiritual energy was being converted into sword qi due to his swordbone condition.

But for Bai Jingyan, this was not entirely a blessing.