Free Web NovelChapter 313: Chapter 132: Final Placement, a Wager
Steward Chen recalled his impression from the earlier examination and continued, "During the assessment, I paid special attention to his aura. It was calm and condensed, and the flow of his Inner Strength was smooth and heavy. It was nothing like the superficial and impure state one sees after taking powerful medicines to forcibly raise one’s Cultivation. On the contrary, his foundation is quite solid. There are absolutely no signs that he rushed his training."
He also believed that an Eighth-Grade Root Bone would make it difficult for anyone to achieve greatness, but he was unwilling to dismiss a potential prodigy. Thus, he had to truthfully report the anomaly he had observed.
Qin Gang listened, slowly shaking his head. The skepticism in his eyes didn’t lessen in the slightest.
He had been immersed in the Martial Dao for decades and had seen countless geniuses and mediocrities. He had always firmly believed that Root Bone was the foundation of Martial Dao cultivation, the cornerstone that allowed one to walk far on that path.
Those with inferior Root Bones might distinguish themselves in the early stages through lucky encounters or external aid. But once they reached a higher realm, the shackles of their Root Bone would become fully apparent. The carrying capacity of their meridians and the purity of their Inner Qi would both hit a bottleneck. Despite their best efforts, they would struggle to make any significant achievements and were destined to not go far.
"There are countless Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures in this world, including those that can artificially boost one’s Cultivation," Qin Gang said in a deep voice. "Even someone with a poor Root Bone can achieve rapid progress in the short term by consuming such a treasure, greatly increasing their chances of breaking through to the next realm. But a realm obtained this way is ultimately a castle in the air. Their meridians are damaged from being forcibly expanded by the medicinal power, and their foundation is completely destroyed. In the future, not only will it be difficult to advance even an inch, their vitality may even decline to the point where they can’t maintain their current Cultivation. In the long run, it does far more harm than good."
He had seen it too many times—people who, eager for quick success, took shortcuts, only to end up with their Martial Dao completely crippled. Naturally, he didn’t believe Yang Jing’s level of Cultivation proved anything.
In his eyes, in Martial Dao cultivation, Manifest Strength tempered the flesh and bones, Hidden Strength refined the inner breath and organs, and Integrated Strength connected the internal and external, the corporeal and incorporeal. These three realms were nothing more than the foundation on the path of the Martial Dao, a mere stepping stone to higher levels.
Even if Yang Jing was young and had reached the realm of Integrated Strength early, it hardly counted as a rare advantage. Within the Xuanzhen Sect, there were exceptionally talented disciples who had reached Integrated Strength at fourteen or fifteen. Such an achievement was nowhere near enough to offset the fatal flaw of possessing an Eighth-Grade Root Bone.
Qin Gang sat deep in his chair, his gaze fixed on the wood grain of the nearby table as his mind settled on a decision.
’Sun Ningxiang is Sun Yong’s daughter, after all. A Fifth-Grade Root Bone isn’t top-tier, but it’s reliable. Accepting her into Zhenyue Peak wouldn’t be a disservice to our branch. I can treat it as doing a small favor for a former fellow disciple. It’s fine to take her in.’
’But Yang Jing’s Eighth-Grade Root Bone is a critical weakness. Zhenyue Peak is never lax when it comes to recruiting disciples. There’s no reason to accept such a mediocre talent just for the sake of a personal connection. Keeping him would only waste resources and be a drag on the branch’s performance evaluations. The losses would far outweigh any gain.’
He raised his eyes to Chen Xinghe, who stood silently below, and said, "Sun Ningxiang’s Root Bone is acceptable, so we’ll make an exception and take her. Assign her to the Outer Sect to begin her cultivation. As for that Yang Jing, an Eighth-Grade Root Bone is ultimately unsuited for great achievements. Zhenyue Peak has no place for him. Have someone send him away. Tell him to go back where he came from."
Upon hearing this, Steward Chen sighed softly to himself but asked no further questions. He bowed and replied, "Yes, this subordinate understands. I will go and make the arrangements now."
With that, he slowly rose, straightened his Deacon’s Robe, and saluted Qin Gang with cupped fists once more. "If the Peak Master has no further instructions, this subordinate will take his leave," he said respectfully.
Qin Gang gave a slight nod, dismissing him.
Steward Chen lingered no longer, turning and walking steadily toward the entrance of the main hall.
Seated in the Grandmaster’s Chair, Qin Gang watched Steward Chen’s receding figure with a heavy gaze. His fingertips unconsciously traced the carved patterns on the armrest as his mind drifted uncontrollably back thirty years.
Back then, when he had just entered the Xuanzhen Sect, his aptitude was good, but he lacked detailed guidance and repeatedly hit a wall in his cultivation. He often spent his nights on the training grounds, pondering techniques alone until deep into the night. It was Sun Yong, a fellow Inner Sect Disciple at the time, who frequently gave him pointers, sharing his own cultivation insights without reservation. Whenever he ran into difficulties, Sun Yong was there to help him. Even now, the memory of that kindness still held a certain warmth.
But thirty years had passed, and they were no longer the sect brothers who had once trained side by side.
After Sun Yong left the sect, his progress in the Martial Dao stalled, and he became a mere wanderer in the Jianghu. He, on the other hand, had climbed step-by-step to the position of Peak Master. With the rise and fall of an entire branch on his shoulders, his hands had long been tied.
Qin Gang sighed softly, a mix of complex emotions welling up within him. In thirty years, Sun Yong had never asked him for a single thing. Now, the very first time he did, Qin Gang had to turn him away. If word of this spread, he would seem cold and ungrateful. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, tinged with a faint sense of guilt.
Just as Steward Chen’s figure was about to vanish through the doorway, something stirred in Qin Gang, and he abruptly called out, "Wait."
Steward Chen had just stepped over the threshold of the main hall when he heard the call from behind.
He stopped immediately and turned around slowly. With a look of confusion, he gazed at Qin Gang inside the hall, bowed respectfully, and asked, "Does the Peak Master have other instructions?"
Qin Gang rested his fingertips on the side table. After a moment of thought, his tone softened as he said in a deep voice, "Let’s put this matter on hold for now. Don’t inform those two of the result yet. Allow me to consider it more carefully. Once I’ve reached a final decision, I will have someone notify you of the subsequent arrangements."
In the end, he still couldn’t set aside the lingering bond of their shared past as fellow disciples. He was unwilling to make such a hasty decision.
Although Steward Chen was confused, he didn’t dare to ask further. He quickly nodded and replied, "Yes, this subordinate understands."
After another salute with cupped fists, he turned and walked away at a steady pace. His footsteps were light, leaving Qin Gang alone to his thoughts in the silent main hall.
