As these thoughts swirled in his mind, his feet did not slow. He followed Zheng Hongxiu onto the boat, and they set off toward Tingquan Island.
After disembarking at the ferry crossing, the two of them walked along a winding path through a bamboo forest, heading east.
Before long, they arrived at the Martial Arts Field.
At this moment, the spacious platform of the field was already teeming with people.
Shen Xiuhan scanned the area and immediately noticed that the disciples present possessed exceptionally steady and powerful auras.
Those who had reached the Great Accomplishment of the Anjin Rank were everywhere.
There were even more than a dozen elite experts who had achieved the Great Perfection of the Anjin Rank, their force flowing seamlessly and their nine acupoints completely integrated.
He also spotted Duan Hongling.
The manager of the Precious Fish Pond stood alongside five female disciples from Feixuan Academy. Her white robes fluttered in the wind, making her look like a solitary winter plum blossom.
Meanwhile, the disciples of Chiming, Kaiyang, and Tingquan academies stood in their own distinct groups, clearly demarcated from one another.
Despite dozens of people gathering in the vast field, not a single person spoke. A solemn silence filled the air.
Zheng Hongxiu hurried off as soon as she brought him there, likely heading to the small courtyard to report.
Shen Xiuhan was in no hurry to squeeze into the crowd.
Finding a spot under the shade of a tree, he leaned against the trunk and scanned the crowd, immediately sensing several exceptionally powerful auras.
The strongest aura of them all...
...undoubtedly belonged to the woman standing in front of Duan Hongling.
She was tall and slender, dressed in a form-fitting, moon-white martial outfit that accentuated her exquisite yet athletic curves.
Standing silently and motionless in front of the Feixuan Academy disciples, she naturally exuded an invisible pressure that enveloped her surroundings, like the deep, still waters of a silent pool—calm yet imposing.
“That... is the Chief Disciple of Feixuan Academy, Yi Suxin.”
A strange voice suddenly sounded in his ear.
Shen Xiuhan's heart leaped, and he glanced to his left.
At some point, a figure had silently appeared beside him.
The newcomer was a slender man around thirty years old, with sharp, well-defined facial features. There was an inexplicable sense of familiarity about him.
Foregoing any formal greetings, the man pointed a finger toward Yi Suxin from afar and continued with a smile,
“As for that cold-faced fellow beside her, he is the Deputy Chief Disciple of Chiming Academy, Di Nian.”
“And over there, the one with his chin practically pointed to the sky, is Zhang Jiuyang, the Chief Disciple of Kaiyang Academy.”
The man's tone was leisurely, carrying an air of an observer sizing up the world as he offered his commentary:
“All of them have early-stage Huajin Rank cultivations.”
“Zhang Jiuyang and Yi Suxin are a cut above in talent. They are only a step away from the mid-stage Huajin Rank, needing only time and steady effort to make the breakthrough.”
“As for Di Nian... both his talent and cultivation are slightly inferior.”
He shook his head and said,
“Though he is considered quite a figure in Chiming Academy, he is still far too lacking compared to that fellow who loves giving people nicknames.”
At this point, he turned around, finally showing his full face to Shen Xiuhan.
It was a handsome face that bore a thirty percent resemblance to Wen Qingye, yet it lacked the older man's sharp, towering presence, carrying instead a gentle warmth like a spring breeze.
The moment Shen Xiuhan saw his face, a name flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning. He immediately cupped his fists in salute.
“Shen Xiuhan, the sixth core disciple of Star-Plucking Sect's Tingquan Academy, greets First Senior Brother!”
Wen Zheng waved his hand with a smile, indicating that there was no need for such formalities.
Before Shen Xiuhan could speak, Wen Zheng leaned in closer and asked curiously,
“I heard... that fellow surnamed Zuo was the one who brought you into the sect?”
“Uh... yes.”
Shen Xiuhan's eyes flickered as his thoughts spun rapidly.
This tone...
Why did it sound a bit off?
Could it be...
...that Senior Brother Zuo once offended Senior Brother Wen?
But that didn't make sense...
He had been in the sect for so long, yet he had never heard of any grudge between the two.
As his mind wandered, Wen Zheng smiled and asked,
“So, what nickname did he give you?”
“Nick...”
Shen Xiuhan's jaw twitched, and he almost blurted it out.
But reacting instantly, he forced the words back down his throat and composed his expression.
“He didn't!”
Wen Zheng raised an eyebrow. “He didn't?”
“He didn't!”
Shen Xiuhan was resolute.
Wen Zheng stared at his face with a grin, like an old cat watching a mouse hole.
Then, he held up a finger, wagged it gently, and shook his head as he enunciated each word:
“I don't believe you.”
Meeting Shen Xiuhan's bewildered gaze, he chuckled.
“You don't know Zuo Muxian well enough.”
“That fellow has a rule.”
“As long as someone's cultivation is lower than his, that Zuo fellow will give a nickname to every single acquaintance, treating everyone equally without exception.”
His gaze swept meaningfully across Shen Xiuhan's face, his tone turning suspicious.
“So, saying he didn't give you a nickname is a lie... Why lie?”
“Could it be...”
“...the nickname he gave you is so embarrassing that you can't bring yourself to say it?”
Shen Xiuhan's lips twitched violently, a wave of exasperation surging in his chest.
Seriously...
What kind of goddamn people are in this Star-Plucking Sect?
Why is every single one of them so... so... Can't we just have a few normal people?
Sensing the sheer exasperation in the depths of his eyes, Wen Zheng looked even more excited!
Fortunately, before he could say more—
Creak!
At the front, the wooden door of Tingtao Courtyard was pushed open from the inside.
A figure stepped out of the doorway.
Dressed in a green robe and cradling an ancient longsword, it was none other than the Tingquan Academy Head, Wen Qingye!
The moment he stepped outside, his divine sense swept across the entire martial arts field, immediately locking onto the two figures under the shade of the tree.
Wen Zheng was grinning so widely his face creased, clearly in high spirits.
Shen Xiuhan was looking up at him, his face practically writing out the word "touched."
Wen Qingye couldn't help but feel a touch of gratification upon seeing this.
These two boys seem to get along well. Looking at them, they seem to be hitting it off quite nicely...
As he was thinking—
Two more figures stepped out from behind him, one after the other.
The one leading the way wore black martial robes, his temples slightly frosted with gray, and his eyes deep as a freezing pool. He was none other than the Sect Master of the Star-Plucking Sect, Xu Zhouling.
The man on his right was in his forties, with a short, stout, and sturdy build, dressed in a dark red brocade robe. He was none other than the Marquis of Zhenhai, Dong Fu!
Dong Fu glanced at the sky, his thick brows furrowing slightly as he turned to say,
“Sect Master Xu, the hour is almost upon us. Why is Elder Feng still nowhere to be seen?”
Xu Zhouling shook his head.
“There is no need to worry, Marquis Dong. I have already sent Junior Brother Lei to receive—”
Mid-sentence, he suddenly cut himself off, his eyes narrowing as he looked into the distance.
Wen Qingye and Dong Fu raised their eyes almost simultaneously, their sharp gazes darting toward the shore of Tingquan Island.
Boom!
Boom!
Two sounds of rushing air shattered the silence like thunderclaps in broad daylight. One after another, they tore through the sky, arriving above the martial arts field in the blink of an eye and stopping abruptly.
As the streaks of light faded, two figures were revealed.
The one in the lead was broad-shouldered and thickset, his arms crossed over his chest. He was the Kaiyang Academy Head, Lei Xiao.
The one behind him was a burly man with a square face and a beard as stiff as halberds. He was none other than the Bixia Sword Lineage Elder, Feng Buting!
With a flash, Feng Buting landed in front of the small courtyard.
He released his grip.
The True Gang Qi swirling around his body dissipated.
A few young men and women landed with pale faces, clearly shaken from being dragged along at such high speed.
“Hmph! Embarrassing!”
Feng Buting snorted in disgust, swept his sleeves, and cupped his hands to Xu Zhouling and Dong Fu. Only then did he say in a deep voice,
“Sect Master Xu, Marquis Dong, we were delayed a bit on the way. My apologies.”
Xu Zhouling and Dong Fu immediately returned the greeting, and the three of them exchanged some pleasantries.
To the side, Wen Qingye's brow furrowed imperceptibly.
What is the meaning of this?
Why did he greet everyone else but deliberately ignore me?
Wen Qingye was thoroughly perplexed, but with a major event at hand, he did not say anything.
Yet Feng Buting seemed highly focused on him.
Despite talking to Xu Zhouling and Dong Fu, his gaze drifted toward Wen Qingye from time to time.
Once, twice, three times...
Every single time, he would steal a glance, only to quickly look away the moment Wen Qingye looked back.
Wen Qingye finally couldn't take it anymore and muttered a low scold,
“Feng, why do you keep looking at me?”
Feng Buting gave a soft snort, raised his chin, and turned his face entirely to the other side, refusing to utter a single word in response.
Seeing this, Wen Qingye's temples throbbed with anger, and he cursed furiously in his heart:
What is wrong with this fellow! Utterly baffling!
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