Chapter 5: Exception

Meanwhile, in a grand hall within Tianheng Sect, not far from Tianyuan Kingdom.

Five figures sat around a stone table, their expressions ranging from solemn to indifferent, all at or above the Soul Transformation realm.

Sect Master Yan Yunfei sat at the center, his gaze sweeping over the group as he spoke slowly: “One month remains until the disciple recruitment assembly. This time, the sect will exceptionally open thirty percent of the slots, unrestricted by background, judged solely on potential.

I’ve already coordinated with Tianyuan Kingdom. Many noble family disciples will attend.

If there are no objections, it’s settled.”

The others nodded, their responses brief.

Dugu Ningshuang sat to the left, dressed in a plain robe, her silver hair cascading like a waterfall, her expression serene.

She remained silent, not pondering sect matters but… unable to disengage from the conversation.

These words—she’d heard them before.

No, not heard—experienced.

From the open recruitment slots to the Sect Master’s remark about noble disciples, every word was identical.

What shocked her more was the Lingxiao Peak Master to her right—Li Yao—who turned to her with a smile: “Peak Master Dugu, let your Jingyu Peak pick first this time. Your peak’s been empty for so long.”

Li Yao’s smile, tone, and slightly upturned gaze were exactly the same.

She remembered it vividly.

He’d said those words before.

She’d sat there, nodding silently.

But that was… ten years ago.

Dugu Ningshuang’s fingertips trembled, her hand clenching inside her sleeve.

She looked around, everything matching her memory with eerie precision.

The Sect Master’s expression, the Danfu Peak Master’s silence, Li Yao’s teasing, and the Xingguan Peak Master at the far end, idly toying with an ancient artifact, distracted.

“Am I… reborn?”

Dugu Ningshuang murmured, her thoughts unable to settle.

Li Yao noticed her distraction and raised an eyebrow: “Have you cultivated yourself into a daze? You haven’t said a word this whole time, like your soul’s wandered off.”

Dugu Ningshuang didn’t respond, her expression calm.

But Li Yao’s next words cracked that calm: “Keep up that icy demeanor, and soon all of Jingyu Peak will be covered in frost.

How about this? Take a chance at the recruitment and pick a disciple.

Having someone to care for makes a difference.”

The words “someone to care for” tugged at the most fragile string in her heart.

She closed her eyes, trying to suppress the memory, but it wouldn’t stay down.

Her mind flashed to the day after the recruitment assembly—

The sky had just cleared from rain, the stone steps still slick.

A少年 stood, his clothes half-soaked, his back straight, his gaze stubborn.

Rain lingered on his face.

“I want to take you as my master.”

She remembered standing on the steps, replying coolly: “Your aptitude doesn’t meet my standards.”

It was the truth. His spiritual root was impure, his aura weak, utterly average among the thousands of applicants.

By all logic, she had no reason or need to accept him.

The少年 didn’t leave.

From that day on, he appeared daily, standing motionless at the mountain gate, silent, uncomplaining.

Wind, sun, rain.

He stood there until the stone beneath him bore deep marks.

She meant to ignore him, but every morning, climbing the mountain, she saw that silent figure.

Gradually, she grew used to seeing him there.

Until one day, he collapsed.

She instinctively approached, looking down at him.

His face was pale, lips cracked, breathing faint.

Just as she thought he’d fainted, he opened his eyes.

No trace of fear, only resolve.

“I want to take you as my master.”

His voice was faint, as if he might fade any moment, yet he finished the sentence.

She was silent for a long time before nodding.

“Come with me.”

That was the first time she broke her rule to take a disciple.

The first time she bent her own principles.

She didn’t want to admit it, but her heart had stirred slightly.

Thus, Luo Jiutian became the first—and only—disciple of Jingyu Peak.

She’d rejected him, refused to believe persistence could defy fate, yet in the end, she’d pushed him into an inescapable tragedy.

He’d stood before her, yet she never truly saw him.

How… had it come to that?

Dugu Ningshuang opened her eyes, the hall’s discussions still buzzing.

Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening, as she forced down the emotions surging within, saying softly: “This year… I will take a disciple.”

The hall fell silent.

Everyone froze, even Li Yao looking up in surprise.

“You?” He raised an eyebrow. “Serious?”

She didn’t answer.

Her gaze lowered to the recruitment list, landing on a familiar name—

[Luo Jiutian].

*

The scene shifted back to the depths of the Luo family mansion.

In an elegantly furnished room.

A young man adjusted his collar before a bronze mirror.

His movements were stiff but meticulous, every detail deliberate.

The mirror reflected a sharply defined face, solemn yet confident, with a glint of ambition in his eyes.

This was the star of tonight’s recognition banquet—Luo Chen.

Finished, he stood, straightening his back, inspecting his appearance to ensure perfection before stepping out.

Outside, on the stone steps, Luo Changqing had been waiting.

Dressed in the Patriarch’s formal robes, his face stern, a flash of satisfaction crossed his eyes upon seeing Luo Chen.

Luo Chen approached, calling softly, “Father.”

Luo Changqing nodded, appraising him with barely concealed pride: “As expected of my son. Your presence alone outshines most noble heirs.”

He paused, then continued: “Tonight’s banquet will host the other three great families. It’s ceremonial, but vital for you. You are the Luo family’s future—perform well.”

Luo Chen bowed slightly. “I understand.”

He knew his father’s words, “the Luo family’s future,” weren’t just praise.

They were a reminder.

A reminder that the family once pinned its hopes on another ‘Young Master’—Luo Jiutian.

Luo Chen scoffed inwardly.

That guy, raised with the family’s resources, took years to reach early Foundation Establishment.

How could he compare?

Luo Changqing saw it, shaking his head slightly but not pressing.

He stepped closer, his voice steady: “Your talent is exceptional, the rare ‘Star-Plucking Divine Body,’ but don’t underestimate Luo Jiutian. He doesn’t fight, but that doesn’t mean he can’t.”

Luo Chen’s eyes flickered, silent for a moment before nodding. “Father, rest assured, I know my limits.”

He understood his father’s caution—too much brilliance could draw trouble.

But his confidence wasn’t blind; he knew he had the edge.

The ‘Star-Plucking Divine Body’ was rare, drawing starlight to boost his cultivation far beyond his peers.

Now, he was solidly in mid-Foundation Establishment, with late stage in reach.

In the future, the gap between him and Luo Jiutian would only widen.

Luo Chen didn’t believe he could lose.

Against Luo Jiutian, he would only win.