He knew the youth possessed many unbelievable secrets, but how was the Golden Bell Shield possible? Furthermore, those familiar spell casting motions were undeniable.
The expression beneath Qi Yelan’s mask shifted rapidly, and his state of mind changed with it. Memories surged like waves, bringing back the hundred years of torment and pain that once again overturned his heart. Eventually, everything settled into a pool of stagnant water. No one knew what he was thinking in those few seconds, perhaps not even himself.
While Yan Jue was trapped in his own confusion, unsure of how to explain, a middle aged elder in white robes approached from behind the crowd. “What is the meaning of this gathering so early in the morning? Moshan disciples are not to act with such insolence.”
“Elder Zhao,” the Moshan disciples greeted him in unison.
Ye Liufang stood behind the group and looked directly at the newcomer. “Senior Brother.”
Zhao Ge’s expression turned solemn. “Junior Sister, you are joining them in this nonsense as well?”
Ye Liufang glanced at Yan Jue, intending to tell Zhao Ge what she had just witnessed, but she was interrupted.
“Junior Sister, Master will be back soon. Go and prepare. Do not let others make a joke of us,” Zhao Ge commanded.
Yan Jue instinctively retreated into the crowd, but at that moment, his gaze met Zhao Ge’s. Those old, clouded eyes were as flat as a deep pool, yet they seemed to hide stormy waves that made Yan Jue’s heart skip a beat in warning.
The Great Immortal Sect Assembly began at noon, by which time the mountain gates were swarming with cultivators. Yan Jue and his companions squeezed into an inconspicuous spot within the crowd. Yan Jue looked around, and only after confirming that Feng Yu was nowhere to be seen did he feel at ease. Hearing how pitifully Feng Yu had screamed that night, Yan Jue assumed the man would be unable to attend today. It would be best if they did not meet at all for the next few days.
On the high platform stood several highly respected elders of the Moshan Sect. Yan Jue recognized none of them. Not a single one of his former disciples was present. It was exactly as he had suspected; the people from his time were all gone.
Qin Wei scanned the platform with an anxious expression. Finding no one, he lowered his head in dejection. “Is Master still not going to appear?”
Yan Jue patted his shoulder and comforted him. “He will come.”
The first half of this year’s assembly was no different from previous years. Disciples from various sects came forward for matches and selections. Excellent disciples were chosen to deal with the recently troublesome Demon Race, and finally, a ranking list was established. The first half proceeded smoothly. Among the younger generation, Qin Wei successfully ranked within the top ten, second only to Ye Liufang.
Yan Jue and the others watched from below, having no intention of competing for the list. However, some people refused to let them be. After witnessing Yan Jue’s Golden Bell Shield earlier, the crowd had developed an intense curiosity toward these Penglai disciples.
“Have these Penglai disciples not made a move yet? You surely did not travel thousands of miles just to watch the excitement, did you?”
Seeing everyone’s eyes turn toward him, Yan Jue looked to Lu Wu for help and whispered, “My spell casting is unstable.”
Lu Wu smiled slightly. “Little Fuchen, you have certainly brought us trouble. But it is a small matter. I will handle it.” He then raised his voice to the crowd. “My little junior brother is shy. Since you want to see our skills, I shall step forward.”
Although Lu Wu could not use his divine power, he had learned the human art of sword control. “May I borrow your sword for a moment, young brother?”
“Of course, it is my honor,” Qin Wei replied, handing the sword over without hesitation.
Lu Wu took the sword and toyed with it for a moment before performing an original sword dance for the crowd. The onlookers witnessed the legendary Penglai Sword Style. Soon, someone stepped up to challenge him. Because of his unique nature, Lu Wu possessed no internal energy and was not affected by the energy of others. He relied solely on his superior sword technique to defeat every disciple who challenged him.
“I thank you for the match. Now that we have tested our skills, the rest of you may continue. I shall not participate further,” Lu Wu said, preparing to leave the stage.
“Wait,” Zhao Ge spoke from the high platform, seemingly concerned that they might leave. “The assembly still has many days left. Please stay for a while longer.”
Lu Wu cupped his hands and smiled. “Naturally. We had no intention of leaving.”
The entire day passed without Master Yanxiu appearing. They stood outside until the sun went down. Back in the guest room, Yan Jue leaned against the table. “Could his appearance just be a gimmick?”
Lu Wu leaned against the door with his arms crossed. “He will return. This is actually better as it gives us more time.”
Qin Wei hurried in, looking excited. “Brother Wen, my Little Aunt has prepared a feast for everyone. Let us go and have a drink together.”
“No problem,” Lu Wu agreed. “Brother Wen, let’s go.”
Yan Jue tried to decline. “I will not go.” He knew there would be disciples from the Danyang Sect there, and he felt it was better to avoid trouble.
At that moment, Qi Yelan, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly stood up and looked at Yan Jue. “Go. It is lively.”
“Very well,” Yan Jue relented. With A-Ye there, he always felt inexplicably at ease. Whenever danger arose, the boy was by his side. It felt like a fated connection.
At the banquet, Yan Jue sat in a corner. Since Yanxiu had not returned, the seat of honor was occupied by Zhao Ge. Yan Jue felt as though the man was constantly watching him, which was strange since he did not recall meeting him in his previous life.
“These must be the cultivators from Penglai,” Zhao Ge said. “I have not seen you before. Let us drink together.”
Lu Wu had already raised his glass. Yan Jue looked at the clear liquid on the table and hesitated. Zhao Ge’s brow furrowed, his expression showing a hint of displeasure. “What is this? Are you dissatisfied with the wine of my Moshan?”
Yan Jue bowed. “I am ashamed to say that I do not know how to drink.”
“This is fruit wine brewed from the cool springs of our mountain,” Zhao Ge explained. “It gathers the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to strengthen the body. It will not make you drunk.”
Yan Jue could no longer refuse. He raised his glass, offered his thanks, and took a small sip. There was indeed no scent of alcohol; it carried the crisp sweetness of snow pears. He would have believed it was not wine at all, so he drank a bit more.
The banquet was filled with lively conversation as guests moved about. Yan Jue sat in his seat, but before long, the wine began to affect him. His head felt heavy, and he became drowsy. Lu Wu, who loved excitement, had already left his seat, leaving only A-Ye by Yan Jue’s side.
Yan Jue noticed that A-Ye was even quieter than usual, simply staring at him without a word. He was used to this, but today he wanted to talk and say the things he usually kept hidden.
“A-Ye, do you like me?” Yan Jue asked.
Qi Yelan remained silent. He had not expected Yan Jue to ask such a thing so openly in this setting. He felt a sudden urge to cover the man’s mouth.
Yan Jue did not wait for a response, taking the silence as a confirmation. “Then why do you always save me?” He continued to mutter to himself, “But thank goodness for you, otherwise I would be in a terrible state.”
Looking at Yan Jue’s drunken state, Qi Yelan sighed and reached out to help him up. “Come. You are drunk. Let’s go back.”
Yan Jue dodged him and insisted, “I am not drunk. I am not.”
Qi Yelan’s expression remained blank, his voice indifferent. “You are already talking nonsense, and you claim you are not drunk?”