Chương 9: Arrogant young masters are the norm 1.9

It was the day of the lecture, delivered by one of the Foundation Establishment elders of the sect. Ning made his way toward the General Affairs Hall at an unhurried pace. The buildings lining both sides of the stone path stood in perfect symmetry, their tiled roofs and carved pillars mirroring one another so precisely that it almost looked unnatural. It was probably meant to symbolize balance or harmony. Noice. Ning gave an approving nod. Before long, the General Affairs Hall came into view.

Stepping inside, he found he had arrived nearly half an hour early. It was a safe choice. If you arrived early, people ignored you. If you arrived late, people remembered you. And if the one remembering happened to be someone who could accidentally flatten you with a stray burst of qi, it was generally best not to tempt fate. It was little things like this that one must be careful about. Subtle things mattered.

"Brother Ning!" Zhang Feng's cheerful voice rang out from one corner of the hall. He waved enthusiastically, joined by Wei Zhusang and Lang Rulang. Ning smiled and returned the greeting with a practiced bow with cupped hands in front before walking over. At first glance, nothing seemed unusual. Wei Zhusang, Zhang Feng, and Lang Rulang were practically inseparable these days. The surprise was the fourth person standing with them. He was a young man with sharp features, already at the Second Stage of Qi Condensation.

His robes were of noticeably finer quality than those of the other peripheral disciples, and the confidence on his face bordered on arrogance. The young man gave Ning a leisurely once-over before speaking.

"So, you're another member of this so-called Mutual Aid Association." His eyes lingered for a brief moment before he gave a small nod.

"Hmph. You look... acceptable." Ning tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes drifting toward Wei Zhusang in silent inquiry. Who's this sassy lost child? Wei immediately understood the look.

"Ahem." He smiled awkwardly.

"Brother Ning, allow me to introduce Brother Su Fan." Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice.

"He's from the Alchemy Hall." Ning's brows rose almost imperceptibly. That explained quite a lot. The Alchemy Hall. This man was Rich, with a capital R. Wei, Zhang, and Lang all came from respectable cultivation families, but their connections had only secured them work in the Weapon Refining and Talisman Halls. Nothing to scoff at, as those halls ranked among the top of the "Hundred Immortal Arts." Still, where there are people, there is class division.

Alchemy and Formation always sat a little higher on the ladder, even among the four great arts. Those two touched directly on cultivation itself: spiritual pills and arrays made or broke a cultivator's path. Weapons and talismans were prestigious, sure, but ultimately tools. A disciple from the Alchemy Hall naturally had reason to be proud.

"So it's Brother Su." Ning clasped his hands politely.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Hmph." Su Fan merely inclined his head a fraction. Yep. Definitely a young master. Wei Zhusang chuckled awkwardly.

"Brother Su's background is... rather impressive." Ning simply smiled.

"It's only natural. Brother Su has already reached the Second Stage of Qi Condensation while the rest of us are still at the First. Talent and hard work deserve respect." Wei blinked before giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Brother Ning, I really admire your outlook." Su Fan snorted, though the disdain in his expression noticeably lessened.

"Hmph. At least you know how to speak." Ning resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course the man had heard every word. Cultivators possessed senses far sharper than mortals. Whispering only worked against ordinary people. Around fellow cultivators, lowering one's voice merely created the illusion of privacy. So he was not about to blunder here of all things Just then, a streak of moon-white light descended from the sky.

A flying sword landed lightly in the center of the square, and a middle-aged man in moon-white robes stepped off with effortless grace. As his feet touched the ground, the sword circled him once before sliding neatly back into its sheath on its own. Ning's eyes couldn't help but linger on the sight. Now that's what a cultivator should look like.

The man's sleeves fluttered gently despite the absence of wind, his bearing calm and detached, carrying the effortless dignity of someone who had long since stepped beyond the mundane world. The disciples immediately cupped their hands and bowed.

"We greet the elder!" Elder Liu smiled faintly and waved a hand.

"Enough with the formalities. You may simply call me Elder Liu." His gaze swept across the gathered disciples before he nodded in satisfaction.

"Today's lecture will cover the fundamentals of cultivation. Listen carefully. A solid foundation is worth more than years of blind effort." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The square quickly fell silent.

"The purpose of cultivation," Elder Liu began, "is to refine the spiritual qi of Heaven and Earth into one's own strength. Every breakthrough tempers the body, expands the dantian, and brings a cultivator one step closer to transcending mortality itself." His voice wasn't particularly loud, yet every disciple heard it clearly.

"The path ahead, however, is neither smooth nor safe. Demonic beasts, hostile cultivators, ancient ruins, and heavenly tribulations all await those who seek immortality. To survive such dangers, cultivators rely primarily on two things." He raised two fingers.

"Spells."

"Martial arts."

"Spells transform qi into external phenomena." Elder Liu flicked a finger, and a tiny flame appeared above his palm before becoming a stream of water, then a gust of wind, and finally a small bolt of crackling lightning.

"Fire, water, earth, metal, wood, wind, thunder, and countless other manifestations all fall under this path. Most cultivators begin with simple techniques before gradually learning more profound spells." With another flick of his sleeve, the miniature display vanished.

"Martial arts, on the other hand, strengthen the cultivator directly. Rather than relying on external manifestations, they refine the body, empower weapons, and allow qi to be wielded through close combat. Neither path is superior. A capable cultivator understands how to make both complement one another." Ning listened attentively, committing every word to memory.

Elder Liu continued, "As for the realms of cultivation, they progress from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment, Purple Mansion, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul." He paused, allowing the names to settle in the disciples' minds before smiling faintly.

"As for what lies beyond Nascent Soul, you needn't concern yourselves with it for now. Even understanding the first five realms is more than enough for your current stage. A cultivator who dreams of flying before learning to walk will only stumble." His expression grew more serious.

"Never become so obsessed with advancing your realm that you neglect your foundation. A weak foundation may allow you to climb quickly, but it will eventually become the chain that prevents you from climbing any higher." Many disciples nodded solemnly. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed across the square. A lone disciple came running through the entrance, breathing heavily as every pair of eyes slowly turned toward the unfortunate latecomer.

The youth stumbled into the square, his robes torn in several places and his face streaked with dirt, as though he had fought his way through half the mountain just to get here. Ning raised an eyebrow. Xiao Fan. Before anyone else could speak, a mocking voice rang out across the square.

"So the trash finally decided to show himself." Ning turned toward the speaker. The young man wore embroidered robes far finer than those of ordinary peripheral disciples. His chin remained slightly raised, and the smug curve of his lips made it abundantly clear that he enjoyed having an audience.

"It's Xiao Hong," Zhang Feng muttered beside him. Ning studied the newcomer for a moment. Another arrogant young master? Do they grow these people in the sect's backyard?

"Xiao Hong?" Ning asked quietly.

"The one with the high-grade spiritual root?" Wei Zhusang nodded.

"The very same." A grin slowly spread across Zhang Feng's face.

"This should be interesting." Ning glanced at him.

"Why?" For him, currently, such gossip already constituted entertainment. Living in a cave does that to you. Zhang Feng chuckled.

"It's a long story." He folded his arms and nodded toward Xiao Fan.

"That guy used to be the young master of the Xiao Clan. His father was the clan's greatest genius and the undisputed heir, but instead of marrying into another cultivation family, he chose a woman with no notable background. The elders nearly coughed themselves to death from the shock." Wei Zhusang nodded.

"Not long afterward, both of Xiao Fan's parents disappeared without a trace." Zhang Feng sighed.

"Then came the worst part. Xiao Fan was diagnosed with damaged spiritual roots. His cultivation barely progressed, so the clan stripped him of his position as heir." Wei calmly added, "Xiao Hong's branch inherited everything afterward." Ning quietly drew in a breath. Parents mysteriously disappear. Ruined talent. Inheritance stolen. That's already three protagonist clichés. Ning blinked. Zhang Feng scratched his cheek.

"But that's not even the strange part." Ning looked at him.

"There's more?"

"It was said a passing expert later repaired his spiritual roots. No one knows why." Zhang Feng shrugged, Wei Zhusang spread his hands.

"Then the senior disappeared just as mysteriously as he came." Ning stared ahead blankly. A mysterious expert too? He's collecting protagonist tropes faster than a gacha game collects limited characters. Fuck, I might actually be living inside a third-rate xianxia novel. At the front of the square, Xiao Fan straightened his back.

"I arrived late because three people blocked my path." His gaze shot toward Xiao Hong.

"On someone's orders." Xiao Hong merely sneered.

"Is that so? Then perhaps you should have arrived earlier." He folded his arms across his chest.

"Or are excuses the only thing you've managed to cultivate?" Even the dialogue sounds like a third-rate script, Ning thought, quietly blending into the crowd.

"You-""Silence." Elder Liu's voice rang across the square like a clap of thunder. With a casual flick of his sleeve, an invisible pressure descended upon the disciples. Ning's breathing hitched as his body instinctively stiffened under the weight. It wasn't directed at him, yet merely standing within its range made him feel as though an invisible mountain had settled onto his shoulders. His eyes, however, shone with excitement. So this is a Foundation Establishment cultivator. All this with just a wave of his hand.

The gap between realms is even more ridiculous than I imagined. Elder Liu's calm gaze swept across the disciples.

"This is not a stage for your personal grudges." His eyes rested briefly on Xiao Hong.

"Interrupt again, and you will be punished." The pressure around Xiao Hong suddenly increased. His face turned pale before he coughed out a mouthful of blood, staggering back several steps. Only then did Elder Liu shift his gaze to Xiao Fan.

"As for you, regardless of the reason, do not be late again."

"Yes, Elder!" Xiao Fan bowed deeply before stealing a triumphant glance at Xiao Hong, whose face had darkened with humiliation. Ning quietly watched the exchange. Yep. That guy is absolutely hiring assassins later. By now, Xiao Fan had checked almost every box in the classic protagonist handbook. Ning was nearly convinced he had found the chosen one, though a small part of him still wanted more evidence.

'If I hadn't survived my teenage years, this level of existential crisis would've flattened me,' Ning mused. After all, it's not every day you realize you might be stuck inside a xianxia novel. His thoughts drifted for a moment toward parallel worlds, infinite timelines, and the possibility that every absurd cultivation novel he had ever read existed somewhere as a real world. Fortunately, before he disappeared completely into that rabbit hole, Elder Liu resumed his lecture.

The elder's explanations were surprisingly engaging, breaking down seemingly profound cultivation principles into concepts even newly admitted disciples could understand. Ning found himself listening so intently that when the lecture finally paused, he almost wished it would continue. Elder Liu looked across the gathered disciples before speaking once more.

"The sect has recently approved an additional incentive for your generation. Any disciple who reaches the Third Stage of Qi Condensation within one year may freely select a cultivation technique from the Sutra Pavilion." A murmur immediately spread through the square.

"And those who reach the Fourth Stage within that same period will receive an additional opportunity from the sect." The disciples' eyes brightened.

"In cultivation, those who stop advancing inevitably fall behind. Most of you possess only low- or mid-grade spiritual roots. Bottlenecks during Qi Condensation are unavoidable, and even a brief lapse in diligence may prevent you from reaching the later stages while your bodies are still in their prime. A weak foundation at the beginning of your path is difficult to repair later." His gaze swept over the crowd one final time.

"Your generation has entered the sect during a rare period. Treasure this opportunity, cultivate diligently, and do not disappoint the sect." With those final words, Elder Liu stepped onto his flying sword. The blade rose smoothly into the air, carrying him beyond the clouds without another glance.

'Rare period?' Ning's eyes narrowed in thought, gazing at the protagonist among us.... Thanks for reading~