The Sword-Practicing Youth on Xiaoyun Peak of Qingyun Sect

Qingyun Peak, Qingyun Sect

In recent days, the Qingyun Sect has been bustling with activity, hosting numerous guests scattered across its various peaks.

"Sect Leader, isn't the number of arrivals overwhelming? If not for the ample space across our peaks, we might not have been able to accommodate them all."

"Moreover, judging by the current momentum, people are still arriving nonstop. In a few more days, we might... struggle to handle the load."

The Qingyun Sect's reputation is simply too great. Ever since they announced those two matters, visitors have been pouring in endlessly.

Not only were there those personally invited by the Qingyun Sect, but also many who came out of sheer admiration.

Given the upcoming challenge tournament, the sect couldn’t very well turn everyone away.

"Since we’ve already made the announcement, we cannot go back on our word. To do so would tarnish the Qingyun Sect’s dignity."

"There are only a few days left anyway. Most of those expected have already arrived."

"Remember, do not slight anyone. The Qingyun Sect must treat all with equal respect."

"Understood?" Sect Leader Lu Mengran spoke with a stern expression.

"Yes, Sect Leader. We understand."

"Dismissed. Make thorough preparations, and do not disgrace the Qingyun Sect."

"Yes."

At the foot of Qingyun Sect

After days of travel, Chen Chang'an and his group finally arrived at the Qingyun Sect.

Throughout the journey, the disciples of the Fang family had been intensely curious about Chen Chang'an and Gu Xian'er. However, with their ancestor Fang Yunxi personally leading the group and addressing Chen Chang'an as a sworn brother, they dared not act presumptuously.

They burned with questions about Chen Chang'an’s identity but didn’t dare pry further.

"Here is the invitation."

Fang Yunxi handed the invitation to the gatekeeping disciple, who accepted it respectfully.

Upon recognizing the Fang family’s name and seeing that the invitation was personally written by an Elder, the disciple’s expression shifted.

"So it’s Senior Fang. You’ve arrived rather late."

"Oh? Is there an issue? We’re not overdue, are we?" Fang Yunxi asked, puzzled.

"No, it’s just that today’s arrivals have been overwhelming. The Qingyun Sect treats everyone equally, so we can’t prioritize based on status. As a result, available accommodations are now scarce."

"If our hospitality falls short, please forgive us, Senior Fang," the disciple apologized.

"I see."

"We cultivators aren’t overly particular. Who among us hasn’t slept under the open sky with the earth as our bed? We’re not the fussy sort," Fang Yunxi said with a laugh.

Relieved by his easygoing attitude, the disciple exhaled.

Indeed, over the past two days, some guests had shown displeasure—though none dared voice complaints outright, given the Qingyun Sect’s influence.

"Senior Fang, the only remaining space is on Xiaoyun Peak. I’ll have a disciple escort you there at once."

"Very well. Thank you."

"Not at all."

Normally, disciples from each peak took turns guarding the sect gates. But given the exceptional circumstances, even those not on duty—like the Xiaoyun Peak disciples—had been stationed there to receive guests.

A Xiaoyun Peak disciple respectfully led Chen Chang'an’s group to their destination. The peak was already crowded with Qingyun Sect disciples and numerous visitors.

When the disciple showed them their lodgings, the younger members of the Fang family couldn’t help but frown.

The place wasn’t exactly dilapidated, but it was undeniably crude—clearly a hastily arranged space.

"Senior Fang, our sincerest apologies. Space is limited, and the number of arrivals has been unprecedented."

"We regret any inconvenience," the Xiaoyun Peak disciple said apologetically.

Fang Yunxi waved it off. To him, any temporary dwelling would suffice.

"No matter. Cultivators aren’t burdened by such trivialities," he replied calmly.

"Thank you for your understanding."

Though cultivators might claim indifference, those accustomed to status and prestige often balked at such humble accommodations—face mattered, after all.

Few shared Fang Yunxi’s attitude. Many wore their displeasure openly upon seeing the crude lodgings, much like the Fang family’s younger generation.

Fang Yunxi glanced at his clansmen and frowned. "Is this slight truly unbearable?"

"Ancestor, it’s not that we can’t endure hardship. It’s just..."

"The Fang family holds considerable standing. If others see us staying here, won’t they mock us?"

Fang Yunxi scoffed. "Is this what you all believe?"

Seeing their nods, he said coldly, "Strength is the foundation of respect. If the Fang family stays here yet remains powerful, who would dare laugh?"

"Remember—true strength lies within. Even if you were given the finest quarters in Qingyun Sect, without power, could you keep them?"

"Would you still escape ridicule then?"

His words plunged the group into contemplation. They’d never considered the question this way before.

Ignoring them, Fang Yunxi turned to Chen Chang'an.

"Brother Chen, the place is admittedly rough. Given your ties to Qingyun Sect, perhaps you could..."

"No need. A place to sleep is just that—no reason to trouble others."

"It’s only for a few days anyway."

"Very well. Then please choose a room first."

Chen Chang'an scanned the area, picked a small chamber at random, and stepped inside.

Seeing his choice, Fang Yunxi nearly intervened but then grasped Chen Chang'an’s intent.

Chen Chang'an wasn’t the type to flaunt status at others’ expense. With the Fang family’s large group, the more spacious rooms naturally went to them.

Thus, Chen Chang'an’s party settled on Xiaoyun Peak, with three days remaining until Qingyun Sect’s martial assembly.

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, Chen Chang'an strolled around Xiaoyun Peak when a youth caught his eye.

Upon their arrival the previous day, he’d noticed a wooden hut near their lodgings—its usual purpose unclear.

The youth lived there, immersed in ceaseless cultivation.

At dawn, he emerged, sword in hand, and began thrusting—over and over, without pause.

Chen Chang'an sat on the grass nearby, watching quietly, his gaze tinged with appreciation.

The youth, wholly absorbed, remained oblivious to his observer.

From sunrise to sunset, the youth never rested—and neither did Chen Chang'an.

"Senior Da Huang, what is the young master doing?" Gu Xian'er asked from a distance, curious.

"That youth is interesting. Talented, with remarkable perseverance. Chen Chang'an admires such people."

"Though it was just a simple movement, the young man had honed it to perfection."

"Drawing the sword, thrusting, sheathing—his motions flowed seamlessly, not even a sound escaping."

"If used against an enemy, it could catch them completely off guard," Da Huang remarked with a chuckle.

"Could it be… the young master has taken an interest in taking him as a disciple?" Gu Xian'er asked in surprise.

A disciple?

Da Huang wasn’t entirely sure about that. Over the years, many had sought to become Chen Chang'an’s servant, his follower, or even his apprentice.

Yet Chen Chang'an had always remained indifferent—though in the past, it was because his time in the world was fleeting, and he would soon depart.

But now, with no such constraints, it was entirely possible that Chen Chang'an truly harbored such thoughts.

As Da Huang and Gu Xian'er were conversing, the young man finally ceased his training and noticed Chen Chang'an’s presence.

"Who are you?"