Chapter 57: The True Qingyang Sect

“Daoist Shao, that person… who is he?”

the old man couldn’t help asking as the youth stormed off.

Shao Xian glanced at the retreating Tang Chen before explaining:

“He’s the Tang Clan’s heir — the clan head’s only son. They say his sensitivity to spiritual energy far surpasses others. He could guide qi at five, and now, at only eighteen, he’s nearly at the Profound Rank. He’s one of the Tang family’s greatest prodigies.”

Shao Xian’s face showed clear envy, but then he frowned.

“Though… recently I heard he suddenly disappeared, and the entire Tang family was searching for him. Never thought he’d show up to take the Celestial Master Hall’s upper-level exam.”

“Oh…”

the old man nodded, finally understanding Tang Chen’s reaction upon hearing Yun Jiao’s name.

So he’s been hailed as a genius all this time — must have stung to see himself beaten on the rankings by this girl.

Sigh… the old man thought. Still too young. He hasn’t experienced the crushing despair of a true ‘Yun-style dimensional strike.’ Me? I’ve been crushed so long I’m numb.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

They ignored the sulking prodigy.

But Tang Chen’s loud exclamation had drawn other cultivators’ attention.

That huge golden name “Yun Jiao” topping the rankings was hard to miss.

Soon, several curious candidates gathered, hoping to befriend her.

“May I ask — are you Daoist Yun, first place in the second exam?”

asked a man in a blue robe, stepping forward eagerly.

“Yes.”

Yun Jiao nodded.

The man looked delighted, bowing with respect.

“To be first place, your Daoist skills must be extraordinary. I’m Lu Jie of the Xuan Yang Sect, disciple of Celestial Master Fang Jing, specializing in formations. I heard the second exam tested arrays as well — may I ask which sect you hail from and who your master is?”

Without thinking, Yun Jiao answered honestly:

“I’m from the Qingyang Sect.”

The man’s smile froze. His face darkened slightly.

“…Qingyang?”

“Yes.”

she confirmed.

“Qingyang… as in Guangji Heavenly Lord’s Qingyang?”

he pressed again.

“Yes.”

“……”

Not only he, but the surrounding cultivators all exchanged odd looks — some even openly sneered. A few voices muttered with thinly veiled disdain:

“Hmph… another self-proclaimed Qingyang.”

“High skills mean nothing if the person’s character is questionable.”

“Disgraceful to the reputation of the Dao.”

“Someone like this dares to take the upper exam?”

“Doesn’t the Celestial Master Hall vet these things?”

Interest in the famed top scorer evaporated instantly.

People shook their heads and drifted away.

Even Lu Jie, who had first approached, gave an awkward laugh and stepped back.

Yun Jiao blinked, confused.

The old man gaped.

“Hey, hey — what’s with all of you? What’s wrong with being Qingyang?!”

He was about to demand answers when Old Zhou suddenly grabbed his sleeve, face pale.

“Old Bai… don’t. Calm down.”

“We didn’t provoke them! Why this sudden attitude?”

the old man said angrily.

Old Zhou’s brows furrowed deeper. After glancing around cautiously, he sighed and led them a few steps aside before whispering:

“Do you remember I’ve told you many times to change the name of your temple?”

“We’ve always been Qingyang — why should we change?”

the old man protested.

“It’s been our name for thousands of years. Why throw it away?”

Old Zhou looked pained.

“You rarely travel, so you don’t know… You’ve heard the phrase ‘In the Dao world, Qingyang stands foremost,’ right?”

“Of course!”

the old man said proudly. He’d even used that line to bluff this girl once.

The Daoist arts were said to have all originated from Qingyang.

“Legend says nearly every sect’s founding ancestor came from Qingyang, which is why Qingyang’s patriarch was titled Guangji Heavenly Lord. A thousand years ago, Qingyang was the undisputed number one sect. But over time, the sect declined; for centuries now no true Qingyang disciples have walked the world.”

Old Zhou gave him a meaningful look.

“But the name remained illustrious — tempting opportunists. Many imposters now claim to be Qingyang to swindle others. These days, anyone saying ‘I’m Qingyang’ is assumed to be a fraud.”

“You’re saying… they think we’re fakes?!”

the old man was stunned, then burst out,

“But we’re real! Our patriarch still comes down for chicken soup!”

“Doesn’t matter. The world believes the true Qingyang vanished long ago. No one trusts the claim anymore.”

Each year, countless “Daoists” pretend to be Qingyang’s heirs.

Most sects have dealt with such charlatans; some even caused scandals.

People have grown weary — and suspicious.

Bai Yu: “……”

So… too many fakes turned the real thing into a joke?

(￣△￣；)

A heavy, suffocating grievance hit the old man.

He had never imagined the once-glorious name Qingyang would now be met with ridicule.

Even if they passed this exam, few would believe they were genuine.

“Girl…”

he turned toward Yun Jiao, looking miserable.

Yun Jiao met his gaze calmly, then said evenly:

“Finish the exam first — then we’ll prove it.”

If they doubted her lineage, she’d make them believe through sheer strength.

---

Night fell.

Early spring air still carried winter’s chill, cold seeping deep into bone.

As the sun vanished, the mountainside was pitch-black, wind howling with faint wails — eerie and bone-chilling.

Yet the gathered examinees looked excited.

At last, the hunt began.

They grabbed tools and charms, forming small groups, and marched into the darkness.

Yun Jiao’s team also set out.

The Ancestral Mountain was vast, dense with towering trees that blocked even moonlight.

They lit illuminating talismans and followed a narrow, unremarkable trail upward.

Grave mounds occasionally peeked through the undergrowth, shadowy and strange.

Old Zhou had chosen this path deliberately — a smaller trail meant a higher chance of bumping into spirits, perfect for the test.

Yun Jiao eyed the lonely mounds half-hidden by weeds, an odd unease creeping up.

This grave mountain… feels unusually desolate.

“There’s a spirit ahead!”

Old Zhou suddenly halted, holding up his violently quivering compass, eyes shining.

“Right in front!”

The group immediately drew weapons and talismans, advancing cautiously.

Sure enough, rounding a bend they spotted a half-transparent shade drifting aimlessly beneath a tree.

It seemed mindless, just wandering without purpose.

Its form was faint, fragile — as if it might dissipate at any moment.

Even upon seeing them, it gave no reaction, merely continued to float.

(End of Chapter)