Chapter 46: 46. Chapter Forty-Six

46. Chapter Forty-Six

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This girl... is unfathomable.

Atian, who had already lowered her sleeves and smoothed her skirt, noticed the bearded man's probing gaze, tidied her loose hair, and gave him a shy smile.

The mountain bandit who had just been beaten up felt as though he were disheveled in the wind.

Fortunately, he didn't have much time to be disheveled; after being declared qualified, the losers who had been lying on the ground howling were taken away one by one by newly appearing streams of light. Just as the two stared at each other in confusion, a new voice rang out, this time a female one:

"The current Ascension Ceremony has concluded; two have qualified."

Two qualified?

Song Zhicheng looked at Bai Tian, Bai Tian looked at Song Zhicheng, and for a moment, neither knew what to say.

A total of three thousand and two people participated in this Ascension Ceremony, and now only two had qualified; from now on, whenever they walked out, they could boast that they were the ones who had eliminated three thousand weaklings.

Over three thousand people participated in the selection, yet only a fraction could step onto the path of Xiuxian. This was the first time Atian had a real sense of what Zhao Kuo meant by "those with aptitude are one in ten thousand."

Admittedly, perhaps many people, like the original Atian, intended to live an ordinary life and had never thought of struggling for the path of Xiuxian. Furthermore, who among those who came to the Ascension Ceremony didn't have confidence in themselves? Yet, even among this group of people with promising futures in Xiuxian, the elimination rate was incredibly cruel.

"My goodness," Song Zhicheng sat down on the ground with a thud, took off his straw sandals, and picked at his feet. "I didn't expect that I, your father, would actually hit the jackpot. It's just a pity for my brothers; they'll have to fight for their own futures."

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that the world was unpredictable. He had originally thought he was just material to be a bandit boss, and now he was going to cultivate immortality. Regardless of how far he could go, it sounded as magnificent as a storybook tale.

"Sister from the Bai family, it looks like you and I will be fellow disciples from now on." He looked rough and careless, but he was actually very attentive; he had remembered Bai Tian's name after hearing it only once. "I'm a coarse person; if there's anything I do that displeases you, just say so!"

Then could you stop picking your feet?

Years of upbringing as a young lady prevented the words from slipping out. Atian covered the lower half of her face with her sleeve, leaving only a pair of sparkling eyes visible, looking truly gentle and lovely.

Perhaps because all the losers had been sent away, the jumping streams of light returned to the two of them, circled them a few times, and finally turned into a ribbon that lay between them.

Atian tentatively reached out to grab one end of the ribbon, and the flexible silk took the initiative to wrap around her wrist. Song Zhicheng put on his shoes and followed suit, reaching out his hand, only to be ruthlessly whipped by the ribbon.

"Hey! Hey! Why does this piece of junk dislike me!" Song Zhicheng yelled indignantly, then was bound at the waist by the ribbon and enjoyed a thrilling, exciting swing through the air.

One had to admit, this ribbon's flying technique was much better than Zhao Kuo's Sword Controlling Technique. At least Atian didn't feel any bumps during the smooth ascent. It wasn't until she suddenly broke through the water's surface that she realized this wasn't flying, but surfacing.

The Sword Washing Pool was truly a pool. Streams of pool water flowed quietly around her, yet they were as light as mist, dissipating like smoke and clouds the moment they were touched. The massive Broken Sword that pierced through the entire Floating Island was submerged in the crystal-clear pool water. Only then did Atian notice that its blade was actually moon-white; this seemed to be the color of the Beihai Sword Sect. Unlike her first sight of it outside the Floating Island, despite being so close to it, she didn't feel that oppressive Sword Intent; it was as if it were just a plain, unremarkable decoration.

The ribbon carried the two of them away from the water and threw them directly onto the shore, where a young attendant was waiting. Seeing the two land in a heap, he then leisurely performed a bow.

"Senior Brother Song, Senior Sister Bai, this disciple is the Sword Attendant Boy under the Sect Master. By the Sect Master's order, I have come to welcome you both."

Bai Tian steadied the bearded man who was groaning in pain and found that although the boy was as cute as jade, his expression and demeanor were incredibly dull, and his eyes were like stagnant water, looking like an inanimate object.

In reality, the Sword Attendant Boy was merely a Sword Rack that Duan Xuan had casually enlightened; his true form was indeed an inanimate object without thoughts.

His appearance had to start with the Beihai Sword Sect's old rival, the Fangxian Daoist Sect.

In myths and legends, wherever an immortal resides, there must be auspicious clouds and white cranes. Regarding this, the Fangxian Daoist Sect, which had always branded itself as the orthodox Daoist sect, put their minds to it. They not only decorated their mountain gate with swirling clouds and mist but also obtained thousands of cranes from somewhere, enlightened them into human form, and let these white crane boys take care of all the daily trivialities. In their spare time, they would even have them turn back into their original forms to dance among the clouds—what a scene of an immortal sect.

Once such a crooked trick was released, it immediately triggered a craze for imitation in the cultivation world. Even the Taixuan Sect, which had always been at odds with them, secretly started raising cranes.

As a stubborn duck that never admitted to having poor popularity, the Beihai Sword Sect naturally didn't want to fall behind the latest fashion in the cultivation world. However, the trick of raising cranes wasn't very applicable here.

Friend, have you ever seen a Sword Cultivator who doesn't control a sword but sits on a crane?

Even if the crane agreed, the sword wouldn't!

But other sects were using cranes as gate attendants; if they still had cultivators doing everything themselves, it felt like they were inferior. Thus, after racking his brains, the wise and martial Sect Master Duan came up with a crooked trick among crooked tricks:

Since there are no cranes, let's just make do with a Sword Rack.

That was how the rigid Sword Attendant Boy before them came to be. He would only be awakened by Duan Xuan when needed; otherwise, he would honestly remain as furniture in the Sect Master's room.

"Our Beihai Sword Sect was founded in the ancient era and has been passed down for nearly ten thousand years," the Sword Attendant Boy said with a stiff little face. "There are currently one thousand three hundred and six people, including the Sect Master Duan Xuan and the various Elders, ranking last among the Four Great Immortal Sects."

Did he really have to add that last half-sentence?

Song Zhicheng's expression shifted, and he finally squeezed out, "This child is truly honest."

In fact, the Beihai Sword Sect's ranking was purely due to having fewer people. When the cultivation world was selecting the Four Great Immortal Sects, they couldn't shamelessly have their disciples stuff the ballot box like the Fangxian Daoist Sect, Taixuan Sect, and Fahua Temple, which was why they ended up with the last seat.

Ignoring the bearded man's grumbling, the Sword Attendant Boy continued, "From today on, you two are disciples of our Beihai Sword Sect. You must abide by the sect's rules and precepts; if you violate them, the Law Enforcement Elder will teach you how to behave."

The tone of this sentence was completely different from the seriousness of the previous one; he sounded more like he was reciting words taught by someone else.

"The Beihai Sword Sect is divided into three levels from top to bottom: Sect Master, Elders, and Disciples. We are different from those mediocre groups like the Fangxian Daoist Sect that have a row of Supreme Elders. That position is just for people who reach a certain age and fail to achieve Ascension but still want to proudly announce it to the world—it's too shameful, so we don't have it."

This was yet another completely different tone.

"Our sect implements the Senior Brother system. The authority of the Senior Brother is equivalent to an Elder. All disciples must unite under the leadership of the Senior Brother and work together to make the Beihai Sword Sect shine. I know this sounds shameful, but as long as you let go of unnecessary shame, you can become deeply immersed in it and unable to extricate yourselves. Come, unleash your true nature!"

Having said this, the boy paused, then opened his mouth expressionlessly and emitted a strange laugh: "Hee hee hee."

Clearly, the Beihai Sword Sect had taken a strange turn in the grand matter of following trends, galloping all the way in an unpredictable direction.

But it was fine; being different was just being different. They were broad-minded anyway.

Atian and Song Zhicheng looked at each other, both seeing the words "dumbfounded" in the other's eyes.

This sect... seems a bit wrong!

For the first time in her life, Atian felt such an intense sense of crisis. Compared to Bai Xinli, the power she had relied on in the past was as fragile as a thin sheet of paper. She could spar with Song Zhicheng, and she could easily snap a magical artifact that left Zhao Kuo helpless, but she could not withstand a single glance from Bai Xinli.

What is a gap?

This is the gap.

Throughout this journey, it wasn't that she hadn't experienced powerful Sword Intent or seen formidable cultivators. The former was like the Patriarch's Broken Sword, and the latter included the eccentric Tan Tianming and the smiling Guo Huai. However, the Patriarch's Broken Sword was, after all, an ownerless object, and Tan Tianming and Guo Huai were, after all, figures of the level of a martial uncle, their cultivation already rounded and perfect; how could they intentionally release it to scare a little girl?

But Bai Xinli was different.

At the age of twenty, he was in the prime of his ambition. He didn't need to hide his light, nor did he need to intentionally conceal his clumsiness. His youthful brilliance could neither be covered nor hidden.

Her body and mind were stretched to the limit, yet deep within her heart, a stubborn streak supported her to persist.

Cannot kneel, cannot kneel.

Once she knelt, she would truly be broken.

Scattered flames emerged from between her fingers, yet as soon as they appeared, they were covered by a layer of thin frost, unable to stir up even the slightest ripple.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the terrifying Sword Intent faded away like water. Having lost the pressure, the young girl trembled and collapsed onto the ground, unable to move even a single finger, only able to gasp for air with dull, lifeless eyes.

"Nephew Xin Li is different from the others; he lives year-round in the Stone Chamber at the Martial Arts Arena."