Free Web NovelChapter 328: Chapter 135: Great Clans and Humble Origins, Dragon Gate Martial Trial, 10,000 Contribution Points
Liu Rou said sincerely, "With your talent and fast cultivation progress, Senior Brother Zhao, you’ll definitely break through. There’s no need to worry."
Lin Wenxuan chimed in, "That’s right. Someone as outstanding as Senior Brother Zhao will surely overcome that hurdle."
The group chatted back and forth.
Yang Jing stood to the side, quietly listening to their conversation, when a thought suddenly struck him.
From Zhao Hongxiang’s words and demeanor, it was clear he was fairly confident about passing the Dragon Gate martial trial and entering the Inner Sect. His tone was humble, but it couldn’t conceal his self-assurance.
But when the conversation shifted to breaking through to the Qi Eating Realm, his tone weakened noticeably. He sounded far more uncertain, clearly lacking confidence in overcoming that bottleneck.
But this very bottleneck—one that made countless Martial Artists shrink back in fear, or even stagnate for their entire lives—was a monumental challenge for others. For him, Yang Jing, it posed no threat whatsoever. It couldn’t even be considered an obstacle.
Thanks to his panel, he faced no bottlenecks or shackles in his Martial Dao cultivation. He didn’t need to seek out fortuitous encounters or meticulously build his foundation. As long as he focused and trained his cultivation to the peak of his current realm, he would break through to the next one as naturally as water carving a channel, sparing him the agony and risk of overcoming a bottleneck.
Yang Jing remained quiet throughout the conversation, simply standing to the side and listening.
He would occasionally nod or offer a brief word of agreement during a lull in the conversation, his expression always calm and composed. No one could read much emotion on his face.
Though the chat seemed casual, he gleaned a great deal of key information from it. He committed every detail to memory, gradually forming a clearer picture of the Xuanzhen Sect’s internal structure.
For example, each branch of the Xuanzhen Sect held regular competitions to determine its strongest disciple, who would be named the head disciple.
The head disciple of a branch held a revered status, second only to the Peak Master and on par with the Elders. Their position was even a notch above the Stewards, granting them significant authority within their branch.
He also learned that many of the sect’s current Stewards were senior disciples who had broken through to the Qi Eating Realm. After spending years in the sect and accumulating sufficient seniority, they applied for the position.
To the Xuanzhen Sect, outer sect disciples were merely trainees preparing to start their cultivation journey. Only upon becoming an Inner Sect Disciple was one considered to be truly accepted by the sect.
And successfully breaking through to the Qi Eating Realm—shedding Inner Strength to cultivate Inner Qi—meant one had entered the ranks of the sect’s elite. Only then would one’s path of cultivation truly widen.
If a disciple had both luck and strength and could overcome all challenges to become the head disciple of a branch, their status would be among the highest echelons of the entire Xuanzhen Sect. They would gain access to the sect’s core legacies and resources, earn the admiration of countless disciples, and become famous throughout Jintai Prefecture.
Yang Jing stayed with the group for about an hour, mostly listening quietly. When the conversation started to wind down, he cupped his hands in farewell. "Thank you, my fellow disciples, for sharing so much about the sect. I’m new here and want to look around a bit more to get familiar with the place. I’ll take my leave now."
They all nodded in assent, and he turned and left the courtyard.
The conversation had been incredibly fruitful. He had not only learned about the sect’s hierarchy but also gained a clear sense of direction and purpose for his future cultivation. Everything felt much clearer to Yang Jing now.
After leaving the courtyard, Yang Jing began to wander alone at the foot of Lingxi Peak.
Last night, the darkness and rugged mountain paths had obscured much of the scenery.
Now, in the bright light of day, the entirety of Lingxi Peak was laid out clearly before him.
The winter chill was thick in the air. Though most of the vegetation on the peak had withered and turned yellow, hardy pines and cypresses stood tall and strong. Their branches were dusted with a thin layer of snow, and when the sun’s rays fell upon them, the ice crystals refracted specks of brilliant light, creating a scene both cold and elegant.
Mist swirled through the mountains, drifting slowly along the contours of the land. Wooden houses with blue-green tiles were nestled among the trees. The sounds of disciples shouting as they practiced their techniques and the clear chirping of birds occasionally broke the silence, lending a sense of vitality to the tranquil scene.
Yang Jing walked onward at a leisurely pace, taking in the majestic scenery of Lingxi Peak while also gazing at the distant, rolling mountain ranges.
The entirety of Fushan Island was shrouded in mist, suffused with an ethereal aura. Mountain peaks rose one after another, dotted with the scattered buildings of the various branches. The contrast of dark bricks and gray tiles against green mountains and white snow exuded the solemn elegance befitting a Daoist Sacred Land, as if the very air hummed with an immortal presence.
He had to admit, the scenery here was breathtakingly beautiful and secluded. The atmosphere was peaceful and harmonious, completely free from the noise and chaos of the outside world—a perfect picture of serenity.
But Yang Jing knew this tranquility was unique to Fushan Island. The outside world had already descended into chaos, a stark contrast to this place.
Outside, war raged and oppressive regimes crushed the populace. The people could barely survive. Refugees were everywhere, and the roads were littered with the corpses of those who had starved or frozen to death—a truly gruesome sight.
There were even reports of plagues breaking out in the hardest-hit regions. Countless people were infected, and with no cure available, they could only await an agonizing death.
The grim reality of this chaotic era was on full display. The common people were trapped in an abyss of suffering, their misery indescribable.
In contrast, the Xuanzhen Sect on Fushan Island felt like a sanctuary, completely isolated from the chaos, war, and suffering of the world. Gazing at the peaceful scene before him, Yang Jing was filled with emotion. This stark contrast made him cherish the opportunity to focus on his cultivation all the more.
At the same time, a desperate longing for immense power ignited within him.
He knew with absolute certainty that in such a turbulent world, nothing external could be relied upon for long. Only by possessing overwhelming strength could he truly stand on his own two feet. Only then would he have the power to protect those he cared about and preserve the peace he held dear.
Family background, the sect’s protection—in the end, none of that was a true foundation. The only thing he could truly rely on was the strength he held in his own two hands.
