Chapter 127: Perhaps This Is the True Beginning

The crowd gathered before the grand hall erupted in intermittent laughter, though it was unclear whether they were mocking the Xuanji Sect’s perceived weakness or the grey-haired youth who had collapsed within the mist.

Ye Yang shook his head with an air of nonchalance. "His aptitude is abysmal. I had hoped his comprehension might be slightly better, which would have at least allowed him to muddle through and avoid mediocrity. But looking at him now, he is nothing more than a waste."

The Sect Leader of the Xuanji Sect furrowed his brow slightly. He glanced at Ye Yang and replied calmly, "I recall that when you, my nephew, climbed this mountain years ago, it took you nearly ten days, and even then, you only reached the threshold—you never actually ascended to the summit."

The chaotic murmurings of the crowd were instantly silenced by these casual words. Several lower-ranking disciples of the Yongle Sect cast wary glances between Ye Yang, who was struggling to suppress his indignation, and the composed Sect Leader of the Xuanji Sect.

The youth in black also turned his head to watch the Sect Leader—a man who rarely spoke, but whose words could silence an entire crowd. *He prevents others from venting their frustrations, yet he cannot hold his own tongue,* he thought to himself.

Being a disciple of a major sect, Ye Yang quickly composed himself. With a forced smile, he said, "The Sect Leader is right. If I hadn't failed to reach the summit back then, perhaps I would be one of the many disciples of the Xuanji Sect today."

The implication was clear: the Xuanji Sect was pedantic and overly rigorous in its selection process. Had he not failed to ascend, he would never have had the fortuitous encounter with his benefactor from the Yongle Sect, and thus would never have achieved his current success.

The Sect Leader was no fool; he understood the blatant remark perfectly. Ye Yang made no effort to conceal his meaning.

The youth in black appeared increasingly anxious. He cared nothing for the bickering between the two men; his mind was fixed on whether there was still any possibility for the grey-haired youth. If not, why would the Sect Leader defend him?

The Sect Leader gave a cold laugh. "Had you not reached the summit, my Xuanji Sect would never have accepted you."

This was the truth. The Xuanji Sect had two methods of recruitment. The first involved their elders traveling the world and taking on disciples who shared a predestined connection with them. The second was the decennial mountain-opening ceremony, where ancient, mysterious arrays were activated; only those who reached the summit were accepted, even if one fell short by a single step.

However, since these words were directed at Ye Yang—who, aside from the peerless prodigy mentioned by the old woman who had reached the Nascent Soul stage in only thirty years, was considered a rare genius—the remark sounded stingy and carried the bitter tang of sour grapes.

The perspective of an observer always differs from that of the person involved. Ye Yang took this as a grave insult, viewing it as a negation of his own status as a genius.

The Yongle Sect was a major power; they could lose anything, but they could not lose face. For the leader of a subordinate sect to insult an elite disciple of the Yongle Sect to his face was a blatant sign of disrespect.

This slight had to be avenged, but the method required careful consideration. Force was out of the question; although the Yongle Sect was formidable, as the Xuanji Sect disciples had pointed out, this was their territory. A handful of Yongle Sect disciples could hardly stir up a massive storm here.

"That kid... he's moving."

The voice came from in front of the Sect Leader. In the previously silent square, the words were stark. Ye Yang was about to erupt, but his gaze fell upon the focused young man in black.

Memories of his Sect Leader’s final instructions before his departure surfaced in his mind: there were three people he must not offend, even if it meant offending his own Sect Leader. Among them was the most arrogant, yet he possessed the capital to back that arrogance.

It was said that this youth had reached the Nascent Soul stage at fifty—not after fifty years of cultivation, but at the age of fifty, having started his training at thirty. Such heaven-defying aptitude was rare in this world. But what the Sect Leader had emphasized was not this; he had urged Ye Yang to remain low-profile in the youth's presence, for he lacked the standing to be arrogant before him.

Recalling this, Ye Yang’s expression turned uncharacteristically wary. He quickly shifted his gaze away from the youth in black and toward the mist on the mountain path.

The mist was thick, making it difficult even to breathe. The man and woman ahead of Su Fan were still struggling forward, though faint glows emanated from their bodies, indicating the protection of magical artifacts.

Only Su Fan remained. After waking from his faint, he realized he had fallen behind the other two and had begun to quicken his pace. This surprised everyone watching from the grand hall, including Ye Yang.

Ye Yang had walked that path himself; he knew how difficult every step was. Yet, the "waste" he had just insulted had stood up after collapsing, picked up speed, and was now on the verge of overtaking those with magical artifacts.

The youth in black glanced at Ye Yang with a smug expression. Ye Yang seemed to notice, and their eyes met. The youth in black glared at him, and Ye Yang hurriedly looked away, not daring to meet his gaze.

*My master said he was exceptional,* the youth in black muttered to himself. *Even with my talent, I cannot compare to him. Why does he not even dare to look at me? Could he be a fraud?*

The Sect Leader’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He glanced at the two youths who had just locked eyes, a fleeting smile touching his lips before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Within the mist, Su Fan opened his eyes and threw a punch into the void. It produced no miraculous change; as a mere mortal, he possessed no power to shake this millennial ancient array.

The area before the grand hall fell into silence once more. It was already a rare feat to walk through this mist, but to stand up after falling was even rarer. To accelerate after standing up and catch up to those ahead was rarer still. And now, this extraordinary individual had even managed to raise his fist and unleash a blow with the full force of a mortal.

The Sect Leader of the Xuanji Sect looked on, intrigued. The look of disdain on Ye Yang’s face was fading, replaced by the same shock that was sweeping across the faces of everyone present.

The youth in black, who had already been stunned, was now even more bewildered. He muttered, "Perhaps this is the true opening act."

The crowd quickly projected their divine sense into the mist, but before they could observe further, they saw a gaunt figure emerge onto the stone steps before the hall. The mist swirled around him, but in front of him and behind him, the path was clear, as if a road had been carved out specifically for him.

Ye Yang laughed aloud. "Sect Leader, the Yongle Sect has taken a liking to this lad. I will grant him a heaven-defying fortune. Do not try to stop me."

The Sect Leader, still in a state of surprise, did not immediately grasp the meaning. But the youth in black was different. His anger flared; he walked up to Ye Yang and said coldly, "You? What kind of fortune can you offer him?"

Faced with the questioning of the man the Sect Leader had warned him about, Ye Yang felt a surge of tension. He stammered, "I... I cannot grant it, but my Yongle Sect can."

The Sect Leader quickly regained his composure and pulled back the youth in black, who was on the verge of attacking the insolent man. He said gently, "My nephew means well, but since this youth has ascended the gates of the Xuanji Sect, he is now a disciple of our sect."

Ye Yang shifted his gaze, trying hard to avoid the youth in black. *With such talent, if I can bring him back to the sect, the Sect Leader will surely reward me handsomely,* he thought. *I must secure him, no matter what.*

His mind made up, and knowing he could not win in a fight, he decided to resort to shamelessness. "The Xuanji Sect is a subordinate branch of the Yongle Sect. By rights, your disciples belong to us. Are you going to deny me a single person?"

The Sect Leader offered a bitter smile. "Let us discuss this later. Since the youth has made it up, go and bring him over. Yuming, go and fetch him."

Yuming was the name of the youth in black. Because few dared to address him by it, he was taken aback for a moment before rushing toward the swaying, exhausted figure.