Chapter 26: Becoming the Disciple of Juejian Peak's Master

Chapter 26: Becoming the Disciple of Juejian Peak's Master

Countless gazes fell upon Chen Feng.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Feng steadied his emotions, striving for calm.

Ye Yunqi, as one of the True Disciples, had been fiercely contested by the Twelve Upper Peaks. Since he was also a True Disciple, shouldn’t he be similarly valued?

"True Disciple Chen Feng, do you possess a divine trait?" The representative from Tianlan Peak inquired.

"No," Chen Feng answered truthfully.

As for the Divine Talisman Of Creation—that was an absolute secret.

"In that case, Tianlan Peak withdraws," the Tianlan Peak representative declared without hesitation.

The selection process proceeded from the highest rank downward. Among the gathered disciples, there were two True Disciples, so naturally, the selection began with them before moving on to the Core Disciples.

"Hanhai Peak withdraws," the Hanhai Peak representative announced.

One after another, the representatives of the Upper Peaks voiced their refusal. Chen Feng staggered as if struck by lightning, his face turning pale.

Meanwhile, Ye Yunqi smirked with schadenfreude.

"Now do you understand? Even if an ordinary person without a divine trait somehow manages to strike the drum four times and become a True Disciple, what does it amount to?"

Ye Yunqi’s words pierced Chen Feng’s ears like a sharp blade.

"Without a divine trait, one’s potential is limited. Even with dedicated cultivation, it would be difficult to compete with true prodigies in the future. Xuanyuan Peak withdraws," sighed one of the previously silent representatives.

Peak after peak announced their withdrawal, and Chen Feng’s expression grew increasingly ashen.

"What a pity. If we could select one more, Qingye Peak might have given you a chance."

"True Disciple Chen Feng, if Kumu Peak fails to select any other disciple, we may offer you an opportunity to join," the Kumu Peak representative said offhandedly, his tone carrying a hint of condescension.

Chen Feng’s chest tightened, and an indescribable fury surged within him.

Pity?

He didn’t need it!

In the end, none of the seventy-one peaks chose Chen Feng.

"True Disciple Chen Feng, it seems you’ll have to stay in the Disciple Hall with me," the Burly Elder said with a regretful shake of his head before offering encouragement. "However, if you have the ability, you may still become a formidable cultivator in the future."

Though his words were kind, the Burly Elder held little hope for Chen Feng.

Without a divine trait, the odds were overwhelmingly against him ever standing out.

"Thank you, Hall Master," Chen Feng replied with unwavering determination, bowing slightly to the Burly Elder.

Next came the selection of the sixty-eight Core Disciples. Tiancang Peak had already chosen Ye Yunqi and thus withdrew from the competition.

After some time, all sixty-eight Core Disciples found their placements—leaving only Chen Feng behind.

"What does striking the drum four times matter?"

"What does being a True Disciple amount to?"

The Core Disciples looked at Chen Feng with a mix of pity and disdain.

The Burly Elder, the Disciple Hall Master, could only sigh inwardly.

Such was the whims of fate.

At that moment, a brilliant silver-white sword light streaked across the sky like lightning, arriving in an instant.

"Chen Feng, I am Wang Yuandao. If you are willing to become my disciple, step onto this sword."

A voice brimming with an indomitable aura resonated from within the sword light. The dazzling silver radiance halted right at Chen Feng’s feet.

Chen Feng keenly noticed the divine lights flickering on the figures from the seventy-one peaks, and the Burly Elder, the Disciple Hall Master, also showed astonishment and surprise on his face.

In just a single breath, Chen Feng made his decision.

He stepped forward onto the resplendent silver-white sword light, which immediately soared into the sky.

Chen Feng’s scalp tingled, and he nearly cried out in shock. Fortunately, the sword light seemed to exert a suction force, firmly anchoring his body—otherwise, he would have plummeted from midair.

"To think it was actually him..." The Burly Elder murmured to himself as he watched Chen Feng’s figure being carried away by the sword. "Still, it’s better than idling away in my Disciple Hall."

"Great-Uncle, who was that...?" Ye Yunqi’s expression changed.

He had been gloating with immense satisfaction, never expecting that someone would still be willing to take Chen Feng in.

"Wang Yuandao is the master of Juejian Peak," someone from Tiancang Peak immediately whispered.

"A peak master!" Ye Yunqi’s face twisted dramatically.

What it meant to be a peak master was something even a fool could understand.

Being accepted as a disciple by a peak master—wasn’t that far superior to being taken in by a mere elder of a peak?

At this thought, Ye Yunqi’s face turned ashen.

He could no longer ignore Chen Feng.

"Though Juejian Peak is ranked among the seventy-two peaks, it’s at the very bottom of the thirty-six lower peaks."

"Indeed, Juejian Peak has already declined. Now, it has no disciples left—only the peak master and his old servant remain. Even the peak master doesn’t have much lifespan left."

"Joining Juejian Peak is no different from cutting off your own future."

With each remark, the situation became crystal clear, and Ye Yunqi let out a sigh of relief.

The Core Disciples also seemed to relax.

"What a pity..." Jin Hongdang couldn’t help but lament inwardly. After their many interactions aboard the Sky Patrol Giant Ship, he had already come to regard Chen Feng as a friend.

...

The dazzling silver-white sword light streaked across the vast sky, swift as lightning.

Chen Feng truly experienced what it meant to move like the wind. Compared to this, his own full-speed sprint was shamefully slow.

The scenery around him blurred past in a dizzying rush.

Just as Chen Feng felt he was about to faint from vertigo, the sword light suddenly pierced through a thick, almost tangible layer of clouds and arrived at a mountain peak.

As the sword light descended and came to a stop, Chen Feng felt his head spinning, unable to distinguish directions.

"Old servant Yang Tao greets the Young Master." A voice, aged yet full of vigor, reached his ears. Chen Feng quickly regained his senses and focused his gaze, spotting a kind-faced old man in gray robes smiling at him from a few meters away.

For a moment, Chen Feng’s mind seemed sluggish, unsure how to respond.

"Young Master, follow me," the old man said cheerfully before turning and walking ahead. Chen Feng, still dazed, followed, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

In the distance stood several bamboo houses, but they all appeared empty, exuding an especially desolate atmosphere.

"Those were once the residences of the master’s followers, as well as the elders and disciples of this peak," the old man casually explained, as if noticing Chen Feng’s gaze. "But now, they’re empty."

"Why did they leave?" Chen Feng instinctively asked.

"You’ll find out soon enough," the old man replied with a smile.

Before long, under the old man’s guidance, Chen Feng arrived at a cliff. The cliff extended outward like a leaf suspended in midair, as if ready to take flight, with an endless sea of churning clouds beyond.

"Master, Chen Feng has arrived," the old man said with a bow.

Chen Feng then noticed a figure standing at the cliff's edge, facing the sea of clouds with his back to the bamboo pavilion, clad in white robes.

At first, he hadn't sensed the figure at all—as if it didn't exist. But the moment his gaze fell upon that silhouette, Chen Feng's expression changed drastically, his pupils contracting as an overwhelming surge of awe gripped his heart.

The white-robed figure seemed infinitely towering, like a colossal sword piercing the heavens and splitting the clouds, majestic beyond measure. An indescribable sharpness radiated from him, as if capable of cleaving mountains and parting seas.

In the next instant, the figure turned around, and Chen Feng was met with a pair of blazing eyes, radiant with divine light, as though they could penetrate all things.

Instinctively, his entire body tensed, feeling as if every part of him had been laid bare.

"My name is Wang Yuandao, Master of Juejian Peak. Will you accept me as your teacher?" The white-robed man's voice seemed to descend from the heavens, vast and boundless yet razor-sharp.

"Disciple Chen Feng pays respects to Master."

Snapping back to his senses, Chen Feng immediately knelt and kowtowed three times.

"Rise," Wang Yuandao's voice came. Chen Feng stood and finally got a clear look at the man's appearance.

Long hair cascaded down, with strands of white at the temples. He appeared to be around forty years old, his face strikingly handsome and exuding an air of grace. Yet, for some reason, Chen Feng sensed an inexplicable aura of weariness and age about him.

"Since you have bowed as my disciple, you are now my final closed-door disciple," Wang Yuandao said, a faint smile playing at his lips. "From this day forth, you shall remain at Juejian Peak to cultivate."

"Yes, Master," Chen Feng responded promptly.

"You must have many questions in your heart. Speak them now, and I shall answer," Wang Yuandao said with a smile. "Afterward, your training shall begin."