Gathering of the Chosen

“Take a look, have a look!”

“Baozi made from dragon meat—if they’re not tasty, you don’t pay!”

Central Province, Xing Imperial City.

The street vendors were a lively bustle, cries to buy and sell rising and falling, mingling with the chatter of food and pedestrians—a scene thick with the breath of everyday life.

Ye Shu, dressed in the disciple robes of the Mo family, blended into the Mo family’s exploration team, unremarkable, though his gaze frequently swept toward the front.

There stood a man he knew all too well.

Mo Yu.

He walked at the very head of the team, surrounded by a few Mo family disciples whose auras were steady and calm, a smug smile plastered across his face.

Ever since his last departure from the Ye family.

He had been riding high.

Leveraging his system’s positioning, he had been the first to act, slaughtering a number of fate-favored sons ahead of everyone else.

Having learned his lesson from the Ye family incident.

Mo Yu no longer wasted time on idle chatter. Instead, he’d lead his men straight to the doorstep, granting no chance to speak, striking clean and swift like a merciless reaping machine.

By now, he had harvested plenty of luck.

Regaining his former glory was only a matter of time!

“Why do I keep feeling a chill down my back?” Mo Yu suddenly shivered for no reason, a pang of unease gripping his heart. He instinctively glanced behind him, but saw nothing.

“Never mind.”

Mo Yu muttered a few words under his breath.

“There’s plenty of good stuff in this Mahayana ruins—since that chosen one is dead, these opportunities are rightfully mine.”

With that, Mo Yu withdrew his gaze and strode toward the teahouse.

“Come on, everyone—tea and tune time!”

At the same time, countless eyes among the passing crowd on the street were fixed on Mo Yu.

“Don’t act rashly.”

At a stall selling umbrellas, an ordinary-looking woman gently placed her hand on the wrist of the man beside her. “I know you want to kill him, but now’s not the time.”

“I understand.”

A glint of sharpness flashed in the man’s eyes as he slowly relaxed his hand, which had been resting on his sword hilt.

............

Meanwhile, Ye Shu followed the Mo family into the teahouse.

They picked a seat by the window on the second floor.

The ruins would take time to open, so all the major powers were resting in Xing Imperial City, waiting for the seals to weaken.

And where there were crowds, there was gossip.

And boasting.

“This time, with the Mahayana ruins revealed, all the holy lands and great powers of the Central Province have sent their prodigies. I hear several from the top ten of the Prodigy Rankings are here!”

“The Prodigy Rankings? What’s that?” someone asked out of curiosity, a hint of confusion in their voice.

“You don’t know that? Ever heard of the Wordless Pavilion?” the speaker shot back, looking at the questioner like a hick.

“The Wordless Pavilion? I’ve heard of it.”

“Isn’t that the organization that popped up out of nowhere? No one knows where they came from—they claim there’s no news in the whole world they don’t know. Word has it some elder from a holy land tried to dig into their background, and the next day, that elder turned up stark naked, hung at their own mountain gate. That’s how the Wordless Pavilion made its name overnight, stepping into the spotlight of all the major powers. Nobody dares underestimate them since.”

“Heh, that’s right.”

“That Prodigy Ranking—it’s the Wordless Pavilion’s creation. They claim it gathers all the geniuses under thirty-five years old from the entire Heavenly Mystery Continent, fair and square, no cheating the young or the old.”

“What?”

The listener was taken aback, then asked with growing interest,

“And how do they guarantee fairness? Why would everyone accept that ranking?”

“Good question.”

The speaker seemed to have been waiting for that very question. He took a sip of tea before slowly continuing.

“You know, a man lives his life chasing fame.”

“And young men are full of swagger, refusing to bow to anyone. So tell me—if a ranking suddenly puts someone else above you, what would you do?”

“I’d challenge him, of course,” the other replied matter-of-factly.

“Exactly.”

The man nodded with a smile. “The Wordless Pavilion’s genius lies right there. They keep records for every expert on the list, documenting their wins and losses in battles big and small, without a single omission.”

“If you disagree, go ahead and challenge.”

“And this Prodigy Ranking has its tricks, too.”

“What tricks?”

The young man couldn’t help but ask, intrigued.

“On the surface, the Prodigy Ranking is supposed to spur competition among the younger generation, but in reality… it’s a Wordless Pavilion ad,” the man said with a grin, looking profoundly wise.

“An ad?”

“Exactly. Think about it. On the surface, it’s a ranking—but really, it’s the Wordless Pavilion telling everyone: we’ve got complete intelligence on every faction. Want to know something? Come to us.”

“That way, any faction that needs information naturally comes knocking.”

Hearing this, the young man clicked his tongue in admiration.

“Who on earth is the master of the Wordless Pavilion? To have built up such a force so quietly… I have to respect that.”

“Speaking of which—who’s number one on the Prodigy Ranking?”

“Number one?”

The man paused, a strange expression crossing his face. “Number one on the Prodigy Ranking… is a dead man.”