Chapter 51: Elder Zhuang Xiran

Two mornings later.

After readying himself, Qin Ming stepped out of his courtyard.

Outside the Qingyang Market.

Qin Ming tapped his storage pouch, and a top-grade Luminous Flying Shuttle hovered before him.

He could not suppress the excitement in his heart as he stepped aboard and channeled his cultivation power.

Whoosh!

The shuttle transformed into a streak of azure light, vanishing into the distant sky in an instant.

Though this was not Qin Ming's first time piloting a flying artifact, he still felt a touch of nervousness. After a brief, somewhat bumpy flight, he grew accustomed to the sensation and soon handled the shuttle with practiced ease.

Watching the scenery swiftly recede beneath his feet, he felt a surge of exhilaration, a sense of freedom and joy.

Below lay the vast Clouded Marsh Wilds, with endless forests and swamps, rugged mountain ranges cloaked in verdant green. In certain regions, toxic miasmas blotted out the sky year-round, forming natural barriers where fierce beasts and monstrous insects lurked in hiding.

Half an hour later.

Qin Ming, aboard his shuttle, arrived before a massive mountain range.

The tallest peak pierced the clouds, flanked by precipitous cliffs stretching endlessly into the distance.

Azure mountains faintly outlined, veiled in mist.

Wisps of smoke and fog coiled around the mid-mountains, endlessly swirling upward, growing ever denser at greater heights. The main peak of Cloudveil Mountain resembled a mighty azure dragon, coiled atop a sea of clouds.

The Lingyu Sect’s branch lay atop a second-rank spiritual vein at this very place.

On the summit stood rows of immortal palaces, their ancient halls and dwellings exuding classical elegance. Even as a mere branch, the site radiated unparalleled grandeur.

As Qin Ming’s shuttle drew near, cultivators piloting spiritual vessels zipped past him.

A protective formation shielded the main peak. Qin Ming landed on a vast plaza of white jade before the mountain gate.

Within the plaza, crowds of cultivators had already begun to gather, evidently invited to attend Elder Zhuang’s lecture.

The cultivators queued in orderly lines, awaiting identity checks to enter the mountain gate.

When it was Qin Ming’s turn, he presented his jade token. After inspection, the guard allowed him through, though he gave Qin Ming—marked as a Lingyu Sect spirit farmer—a few extra glances.

Taking the route guide jade slip the guard handed him, Qin Ming followed the winding stone steps up the mountain until he stood before an enormous grand hall.

The Hall of Awakening Truth.

Here, the elders of Lingyu Sect regularly preached and lectured on the Dao.

Stepping inside, Qin Ming found the hall spacious and simply adorned, rows of ancient-style tables and chairs neatly arranged.

Already, more than three hundred cultivators had gathered. Most were core disciples of Lingyu Sect, but there were also itinerant cultivators from Qingyang Market like himself.

Before the lecture began, groups of cultivators clustered together, conversing quietly.

Qin Ming chose a seat near the middle, toward the back.

With nothing else to do for the moment, he took out a book on spiritual plants and began to read.

At that moment, a voice sounded behind him.

“Greetings, fellow Daoist. You look like a spiritual cultivator of Lingyu Sect, am I right?”

Qin Ming turned to see a lean, middle-aged itinerant cultivator.

“I’m just a spirit farmer,” Qin Ming replied frankly.

The lean cultivator feigned surprise, then said, “It seems fortune has favored you, to have obtained a jade token.”

“Alas, my own experience was different. I spent nearly my entire fortune just to get one from Mingzhen Pavilion—such a scam.”

He put on a pained expression, then lowered his voice. “Do you know why Elder Zhuang of Lingyu Sect suddenly decided to give a public lecture this time?”

Qin Ming shook his head, honestly perplexed. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t it to select disciples through this open lecture?” asked another cultivator at a nearby table, leaning in.

The lean cultivator shot him a disdainful look. “Do you really think so? Since when are these sects so generous as to recruit disciples from outside, without benefiting their own?”

“What are you thinking? Far too naïve, my friend!”

Qin Ming frowned, finding the argument somewhat reasonable.

At this, a few others around them edged closer.

“So, you seem to know the inside story. Tell us, what’s going on?” someone urged.

The lean cultivator cleared his throat, a hint of smugness on his face, and lowered his voice further. “From what I’ve heard, Elder Zhuang Xiran of Lingyu Sect is a most eccentric man—he shuns displays of power, though his strength is unfathomable.”

“He rarely meddles in sect affairs, devoting himself to the study of spiritual plants. He has no children, and only three disciples: two first-rank high-grade spiritual cultivators and one first-rank mid-grade.”

“But it’s said that these three are far less accomplished in spiritual botany than other elders’ disciples.”

“So this public lecture and recruitment must have a hidden agenda.”

He abruptly stopped, glancing around at the eager crowd, leaving everyone in suspense.

“Oh, come on, don’t leave us hanging! Tell us quickly, the lecture’s about to begin,” someone complained.

The lean cultivator gave a mysterious smile and asked, “Do you know the final trial for advancing to second-rank spiritual cultivator?”

“Of course! The Herbal Illusion Realm trial!” several replied.

He shook his head, then quietly revealed a secret that left the listeners shocked.

“You only know half. The Herbal Illusion Realm is within Lingyu Sect, and every ten years, it produces several wisps of the legendary ‘Mother Qi of Ten Thousand Woods.’”

“This ‘Mother Qi’ is invaluable even for second-rank spiritual cultivators.”

“Anyone who excels in the trial stands a chance to obtain a wisp of it.”

“I imagine Elder Zhuang’s grand display is all for the sake of this Mother Qi.”

“In a few years, the next ten-year cycle will begin. That’s why, for cultivators below first-rank mid-grade, there’s no hope of being accepted as Elder Zhuang’s disciple this time. At best, you’ll get to attend the two-day lecture and maybe gain some plant knowledge.”

As soon as he finished, a wave of sighs swept through the crowd.

“If only you’d said so earlier!”

“But I’m only a lower-grade spiritual cultivator…”

“So am I!”

“Oh well, at least I spent my money to hear a lecture from a second-rank high-grade master. That’s worth something.”

A chorus of lament rose among the crowd.

Qin Ming fell silent in contemplation. His main goal was to pass the Herbal Illusion Realm trial and advance smoothly to second-rank spiritual cultivator.

As for the “Mother Qi of Ten Thousand Woods”…

“Well, I’ll worry about that when the time comes!”

Whether Elder Zhuang Xiran would even consider him was hard to say.

Though he was now a promising young mid-grade spiritual cultivator, Lingyu Sect was full of talented disciples.

As the hall buzzed with whispered speculation, the appointed hour arrived.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three resounding strikes of the bronze bell outside the Hall of Awakening Truth.

All eyes turned as an elder, his hair white as crane feathers and his face youthful, entered with hands clasped behind his back. In an instant, a terrifying aura of the Foundation Establishment stage descended.

The hall fell utterly silent—one could hear a pin drop.

Elder Zhuang Xiran wore a gray-white Daoist robe. His hair and beard were snowy, his complexion ruddy, his gaze profound—he had the bearing of an immortal sage.

It was Qin Ming’s first time seeing a Foundation Establishment cultivator; his eyes widened in awe, his heart shaken.

Elder Zhuang took his seat at the head of the hall and spoke in a slow, clear voice: “I trust all present are spiritual cultivators.”

“Before we begin, I would ask one question.”

“What is a spiritual cultivator?”

...

Meanwhile.

Ten miles outside the Lingyu Sect’s mountain gate, at a secluded ravine.

Five masked cultivators, shrouded in black robes, stood on a cliff, gazing toward Lingyu Sect.

“Big Brother, who’d have thought that old Zhuang’s lecture would draw such a crowd? Looks like there are plenty of fat sheep inside!”

“Shall we—”

The tallest among them, standing in the center, spoke coolly: “Let’s do what we came for. Did you not hear my instructions?”

At his words, the one who had spoken shuddered and fell silent.