Ling Rong looked at the Qinggui Sword trembling in Wen Pinglan’s hand, and a sharp pang of pain shot through his heart.
In that instant, he suddenly realized that this natal sword, which had accompanied him for a century and carried countless memories, was currently doing everything in its power to push him away from Wen Pinglan’s world.
Immediately afterward, Ling Rong smiled with relief.
There was a hint of bitterness in his smile.
So be it.
Over the past century, Master’s hatred toward him had never dissipated.
He should also let go of this obsession.
He knew very well that because of him, Wen Pinglan had not taken another disciple for a hundred years.
Therefore, Ling Rong looked at the Qinggui Sword, his lips moving as he silently formed a mouth shape, saying, “Help him.”
The Qinggui Sword seemed to understand instantly, and its blade trembled gently.
Standing to the side, Jiang Ruansheng witnessed the scene of Ling Rong being knocked flying, and he could not help but be greatly shocked in his heart.
He looked at the awe-inspiring Wen Pinglan, and then glanced at Ling Rong who was miserably sprawled on the ground, feeling a bout of dread in his heart.
He had never expected that a rogue cultivator like Goudan, who seemed to have some capability, could not even withstand three moves from Immortal Venerable Wangshu, let alone himself, someone with absolutely no cultivation foundation.
However, the unyielding streak in Jiang Ruansheng’s heart quickly flared up again.
He tightened his fists and secretly encouraged himself, thinking that he should give it a try, as perhaps he really could do it, and even if there was only a sliver of hope, it was worth fighting for.
Thus, Jiang Ruansheng took a deep breath, gathered his courage, cupped his hands in a respectful salute toward Wen Pinglan, and said loudly, “Please grant me guidance, Senior!”
Hearing these words, Wen Pinglan’s expression turned cold and stern, and he raised the Qinggui Sword.
Yet no one expected that at the exact moment the Qinggui Sword was about to strike out, the blade suddenly began to tremble violently without any warning.
That trembling grew more and more intense, as if an invisible force was contending against Wen Pinglan.
Immediately following that, the Qinggui Sword actually seemed to break free from Wen Pinglan’s control, and with a sharp swoosh, it plunged straight into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
This abrupt turn of events caused everyone present to freeze in place.
For a moment, the entire trial arena was completely silent.
Everyone looked at each other, their faces filled with disbelief.
The elders could no longer contain themselves, and they began whispering to one another, discussing in low voices.
Ciyan knitted his brows deeply, his face full of doubt, and could not help but speak up, asking what was going on with the Qinggui Sword, and why such an anomaly would appear.
As he spoke, he even reached out to stroke the beard on his chin, his eyes entirely filled with perplexity.
Qingliu’s gaze shifted back and forth between Jiang Ruansheng and the Qinggui Sword plunged into the ground, and she said that she did not understand, wondering if this youth’s identity was not simple.
Chenxu, however, had a solemn expression, frowning as he said that the Qinggui Sword recognizes its master, and since it was having such a reaction now, he wondered if it was because he had returned.
Wen Pinglan’s figure swayed, and he stepped forward quickly, his pale fingertips tightly gripping Jiang Ruansheng’s sleeve.
He stared at the youth’s bewildered face, his Adam’s apple moving with difficulty, his voice hoarse to the point of not sounding like his own, asking, “Ling Rong, is it you,”
“What Ling Rong! I am not! Senior, have you mistaken me for someone else?” Jiang Ruansheng looked completely blank.
He looked at Wen Pinglan’s reddened eyes, suddenly realizing that this habitually cold and stern Immortal Venerable was actually trembling at this moment.
When Ling Rong heard Wen Pinglan call out his name impulsively, his heart suddenly tightened.
He lifted his eyes to look at Wen Pinglan, his gaze full of astonishment, wondering if Master had momentarily confused Jiang Ruansheng for himself in a daze.
No!
How could he let the innocent Jiang Ruansheng bear this undeserved disaster in his place!
Ling Rong was anxious, and he was about to speak up to clarify his identity and return everything to the right track.
But just as he opened his lips slightly and was about to make a sound, he caught sight of the Qinggui Sword plunged into the ground shaking violently, its blade humming softly as if trying to stop him from speaking.
Ling Rong froze, and the words at the tip of his tongue were forcefully swallowed back down.
He bit his lower lip tightly, his eyes filled with inner conflict.
At the same time, after a momentary lapse of composure, Wen Pinglan suddenly snapped out of it.
He realized that he had actually lost his mind like this in front of everyone, and a flash of awkwardness could not help but cross his face.
He took a deep breath, working hard to calm the turbulent waves in his heart, released his tight grip on Jiang Ruansheng’s sleeve, and took a step back, his expression gradually recovering its usual composure.
Following that, he fixed his gaze upon Jiang Ruansheng, his voice somewhat calmer now, though it still carried a trace of barely perceptible hoarseness, asking, “What is your name?”
Jiang Ruansheng was somewhat flustered by this series of sudden changes, and the look of astonishment in the depths of his eyes did not dissipate for a long time.
He looked at Wen Pinglan, stammering in reply, “Jiang Ruansheng.”
At that moment, his heart was full of doubts, wondering why the famous Immortal Venerable Wangshu would associate a nameless nobody like himself with that notorious devil surnamed Ling.
Wen Pinglan nodded without giving too much explanation, merely sweeping his gaze across everyone present, and then announced, “Good. From this day forward, you are a disciple under my, Immortal Venerable Wangshu’s, sect.”
As soon as these words were spoken, it was as if a massive boulder had been hurled into a calm lake, instantly stirring up a thousand layers of waves.
Nearly everyone present was so shocked that their jaws almost dropped.
Everyone was bewildered.
That youth named Jiang Ruansheng had not even withstood a single move yet, so why did the Sect Master accept him under his banner so decisively?
What kind of play was being staged here?
Could it be that after a century of secluded cultivation, the Sect Master had finally seen the light and decided to take a disciple again to pass on his legacy?
The disciples who had already joined the sects of other elders could no longer hold back, and they began whispering among themselves, gossiping in low voices.
A disciple dressed in green robes frowned, his face full of suspicion as he said that he heard their Sect Master had not taken a disciple for an entire century, so for him to suddenly take a disciple now was simply too strange.
A chubby disciple next to him said that if he had known the Sect Master would take a disciple this year, he would have fought with his life to apply for sword cultivation back then, as perhaps he would have had a chance to become the Sect Master’s personal disciple now.
After saying this, his face was full of regret.
Another disciple with a thin frame curled his lips, saying disdainfully that he was daydreaming, pointing out that the first youth in black clothing had been attacked by the Sect Master’s fierce sword qi to the point where he was still sitting miserably on the ground, so with his meager skills, how could he catch the Sect Master’s eye.
The green-robed disciple chimed in again, wondering why the Sect Master would inexplicably take that youth named Jiang Ruansheng as a disciple, noting that it was truly baffling.
Everyone looked at each other, all of them wearing blank expressions, completely unable to understand.
When Jiang Ruansheng heard Wen Pinglan’s words, he froze at first, but once he reacted, he was instantly ecstatic.
The famously renowned Sect Master of the Xuanyue Sect, Immortal Venerable Wangshu, actually wanted to take him as a disciple at this moment.
What an immense honor this was.
He felt that the heavens had finally opened their eyes and begun to favor a person with a tragic background like himself.
He was so excited that his voice trembled slightly, and he quickly bowed in salute, saying, “Thank you, Sect Master. Ah, no, thank you, Master!”
He changed his phrasing extremely quickly.
His face beamed with uncontrollable excitement and gratitude.
But soon, Jiang Ruansheng seemed to suddenly think of something, and his expression became somewhat urgent.
He turned around, pointing his finger at Ling Rong, and said expectantly, “Master, your disciple has an presumptuous request, could you also take him as a disciple, as your disciple feels that his strength is also very formidable.”
Ling Rong’s emotions were already fluctuating due to the shifting situation, and hearing Jiang Ruansheng’s words, he could not help but daze for a moment.
He did not expect that under these circumstances, Jiang Ruansheng would still speak up for him, and a complex mix of emotions welled up in his heart, containing both gratitude and a bit of surprise.
However, there was also a hint of guilt in his heart.
If Master really mistook Jiang Ruansheng for himself, wouldn’t Jiang Ruansheng have to bear those groundless hatreds in his place?
Thinking this way, Ling Rong decided that he must find an opportunity to explain his identity to Master.
Regardless of whether Master hated him or resented him, he could not watch with open eyes as Master vented this baseless resentment onto someone else.
Wen Pinglan’s gaze lingered slightly on Ling Rong, and after a brief moment of consideration, he responded, “Very well.”