Although everyone kept their heads lowered, they still felt a suffocating pressure, as if a heavy mountain were weighing down upon their hearts.
Rather than a strong opponent’s aura of intimidation, it was more like people’s fear and awe toward He Yumian.
Resting his chin in his hand and lowering his gaze, He Yumian watched the scene below with casual indifference.
At least he did not suffer from facial blindness this time; with everyone keeping their heads bowed, he could only see the pitch-black tops of their heads.
Recognizing people by their hair buns was not a big deal anyway.
Down below was a row of little tots: the one on the left had a single small hair bun, while the one right in the middle had two…
Still, the second-to-last child on the far right was the cutest, with a tuft tied up with a red hair ribbon that bobbed back and forth.
The grand hall remained as silent as a falling needle, the sound of breathing easily caught in the quiet.
System Xiao Jiu urged him in his mind with nagging chatter: “What are you staring for? Hurry up and tell these people to get on with whatever they are doing, we have serious business to attend to later.”
Putting on a stern front, He Yumian cleared his throat and spoke, “You may all proceed.”
At these words, the several elders who had been sitting on pins and needles finally managed to move.
Before long, the children with exceptional talents were selected and led away, leaving only a few with slightly poorer qualifications awkwardly stranded in place.
The little tot in the corner with the spiky tuft was the least talented among all the children. At six years of age, he was still merely at the early stage of Qi condensation, which could be said to be completely devoid of any affinity for immortality.
The elders looked at one another in dismay, politely passing the responsibility back and forth as it was clear none of them wanted him.
The child’s head stirred, a pair of dark, glossy pupils brimming with a sense of grievance.
Jiang Qiran was the youngest young master of the Jiang family, a prominent immortal cultivation clan in the vast Cangming Continent.
Cherished and dowered with every affection, he had grown up in a honey jar, cultivating a fearless and mischievous disposition.
Jiang Qiran’s legs felt somewhat numb from standing. He pouted, the scene of his departure from home flashing back through his mind.
“Child, once you get to Lingxiao Sect, you must cultivate diligently, obey your masters and grandmasters respectfully, and absolutely do not act as willful as you do at home.”
His father, Jiang Letian, wore an expression of unusual earnestness: “This is an opportunity your mother and I fought hard to secure for you.”
Meanwhile, his beautiful mother, Yu Qiushui, wept softly: “I do not ask for you to reach any great heights in cultivation; as long as you can grow up safely and happily, this mother of yours will be content.”
With that, Yu Qiushui could no longer bear the sorrow of parting and buried her face in Jiang Letian’s embrace, the two of them weeping together in each other’s arms.
Then Jiang Qiran had been dragged away by an unfamiliar immortal elder, who said he was going to take him to find his cousin.
He only had one cousin, named Jiang Zhongao, whom he had caught a glimpse of from afar when he was very young.
Jiang Zhongao was the only son of the current Jiang family head, Jiang Cuntian, and the premier disciple under the grand elder of Lingxiao Sect. At only thirteen years of age, he was already at the peak of Foundation Establishment and on the verge of forming his core.
In contrast, look at himself—still at the early stage of Qi condensation at six years old.
Watching the immortal elders pass him back and forth, clearly unwilling to take him, Jiang Qiran felt a mix of sorrow, grievance, and a tiny spark of anger.
What did it matter if his talent wasn’t good? Humph, his mother said he was the smartest child in the whole world, nothing like ordinary people.
He Yumian paid no mind to the minor situation down below; he was busy comparing notes with System Xiao Jiu.
“No way, Chi Yuan is making his appearance in two months?”
A faint flutter of anxiety stirred within He Yumian.
Are you kidding me? The Chi Yuan in the book was the type to slay gods when blocking his path and Buddhas when blocking his way, slashing through everything whenever a problem arose. Who wouldn’t feel nervous hearing about that?
System Xiao Jiu rolled its digital eyes: “Chi Yuan is only six years old right now, just a little kid, what are you afraid of? Besides, he hasn’t undergone dark corruption yet.”
He Yumian’s expression remained exceptionally grave: “No, I need to go back and prepare.”
The disciple recruitment ceremony below was drawing to a close, and seeing this, He Yumian prepared to make a move and leave.
After all, given the original host’s personality, he would never have attended such an occasion; it was only because his senior martial brother, Jiang Youhuai, had dragged him here by force.
Jiang Youhuai had said he couldn’t bear to see him living in solitude, advising him to choose an obedient disciple to keep him company and casually impart some immortal arts to pass on his legacy.
However, the original host was utterly obsessed with cultivation and scoffed at such notions.
After all, the strong were naturally destined to be solitary.
System Xiao Jiu delivered a swift blow that rattled He Yumian’s stray thoughts right back from the clouds.
He Yumian: “Ahem, let’s get down to business, get down to business.”
Who would have thought that the moment he stood up, the hem of his robe would be grabbed by a remarkably bold little kid?
He Yumian looked down and realized it was that very same tot with the spiky tuft. When had he crawled up onto the stage?
The little tot shook He Yumian’s robe hem in a coquettish manner, lifted his face, and gazed up at him with a pair of large, grape-like eyes full of pitiful longing.
Unfortunately, this trick had no effect on He Yumian, who suffered from facial blindness.
Facial blindness came in two forms: one where a person could not recognize faces, and another where they simply could not see faces clearly at all.
Regrettably, He Yumian fell into the latter category; in his eyes, everyone seemed to be veiled under a blur of motion filters.
Xiao Jiu usually looked quite proper, but at the moment it struck a pose with its hands over its chest: “He is so cute! Whose child is this?”
He Yumian: “Are you asking me? I have no idea, everything’s too blurry to make out.”
Jiang Qiran sniffled, let out a couple of whimpering snorts, and rubbed his fluffy head against the other person. Droplets of tears still hung upon his long, dense eyelashes, making him look precisely like a fragile porcelain doll.
This was a tactic he used with effortless ease at home—acting spoiled.
Yet after waiting for quite a while, the person in front of him made no move at all.
Growing somewhat anxious, he tugged and shook the other’s robe hem, speaking in a soft, milky voice: “Immortal elder brother, I also want to become someone as impressive as you!”
“Could you please teach me as well?”
He blinked his glossy eyes, striking an exquisitely vulnerable little expression, looking ready to burst into tears if he were rejected.
He Yumian could hardly stand his ground any longer—not because he had been melted by Jiang Qiran’s cuteness, but because he was being deafened by the voice of System Xiao Jiu inside his head.
Xiao Jiu was rolling, screaming, and crawling all over his sea of consciousness.
“Ahhh, such a cute human toddler! Hurry up and pet him! You stone-hearted man, how can you remain indifferent to such a little cutie!”
He Yumian: “Weren’t we supposed to be doing serious business? You aren’t going to rank dead last in system performance metrics, are you, getting distracted by temptation this easily.”
System Xiao Jiu crossed its arms: “Humph, none of your business!”
It glared at He Yumian, but before long, it was once again immersed in Jiang Qiran’s onslaught of cuteness: “Goodness, how can there be such a cute, sensible, and obedient little child in this world!”
Everyone else inside the grand hall held their breath, each secretly breaking out in a cold sweat for the reckless and impetuous Jiang Qiran.
Originally expecting the little tot to be slapped flying away, they watched in astonishment the very next second as He Yumian actually placed his hand right on top of the toddler’s head and gave it an affectionate pat.
Could the cold-faced immortal master’s reputation really be nothing more than a rumor?
Annoyed to distraction by System Xiao Jiu’s yelling, He Yumian simply went along with its wishes and gave Jiang Qiran a casual pat or two.
When his hand brushed against the child’s cheek, He Yumian’s eyes lit up—it was simply too soft and delightful to touch, and it was warm to the touch, with an incredible texture.
Unable to resist, he stealthily stroked it a few more times.
Only when he realized that everyone in the hall was staring at him did he reluctantly withdraw his hand, turning around to put on an air of profound dignity: “What is your name and lineage?”
Although Jiang Qiran had no idea who the person standing before him truly was, judging from the previous attitude of the elders, he knew it had to be someone extraordinary.
Seizing the opportunity, he dropped to his knees and knocked his head three times hard against the ground toward He Yumian: “My name is Jiang Qiran!”