After everyone was seated, Song Shijun said, “It’s almost time. There’s still no sign of Taichu Observatory. What does Sect Leader Qi think?”
Qi Yunke was visibly troubled, but fortunately, Venerable Fakong stepped in to ease the situation. “As this old monk passed Fengyun Peak earlier, I saw Master Qiu and his group just starting to ascend the mountain. Since Taichu Observatory brought many people this time, it seems they’ll be delayed for a moment.”
Song Shijun grumbled, “He always has to arrive at the last possible moment.”
Yang Heying was even more indignant than if he’d been cuckolded. “Coming to attend the ancestors’ memorial ceremony, why bring so many people? Showing off at a time like this!” In truth, he too wanted to bring many disciples to make a grand appearance.
Qi Yunke pretended to look elsewhere. Since his marriage and succession as sect leader, he’d found that feigning deafness was truly the greatest skill in the world.
At this moment, Zeng Dalou came to report, “Master, it’s time to strike the ceremonial gong.”
Qi Yunke glanced once more at the empty seat reserved for the Taichu Observatory leader and said, “We can’t delay the time for striking the gong. Let’s proceed, and Brother Qiu can make up for it when he arrives.”
Song Shijun immediately became as happy as a 200-pound child, praising Qi Yunke for his decisiveness.
Zeng Dalou instructed disciples to open the sixteen main hall doors wide. Outside, on the spacious stone platform, stood a vermilion gong frame about twenty zhang high, from which hung an enormous dark iron gong half a chi thick, suspended by extremely thick iron chains.
The mountain-top winds were fierce, and the gong frame was exceptionally tall. Nearby flags, only five or six zhang high, were nearly torn apart by the wind. Yet the massive dark iron gong barely moved in the howling gale, a testament to its immense weight.
Led by the five leaders of the Northern Chen sects, everyone stood on the open stone platform outside the hall, holding their breath in anticipation.
Cai Zhao asked curiously, “What are they going to do?”
Fan Xingjia, who had unknowingly drifted over, explained, “This gong was left by our ancestors. It’s said to be forged from deep-sea dark iron from ten thousand li away. During major ceremonies or the birthdays of the Three Pure Ones, it’s struck to inform deities in all directions.”
“I suppose only the Qingque Sect has this?” Cai Zhao thought, realizing Luoying Valley probably didn’t have such a thing.
“Naturally,” Fan Xingjia replied. “Thankfully, we’re not holding the ceremony at Guangtian Gate, or we’d have to move this massive gong there.”
“And once it’s there, Guangtian Gate probably wouldn’t want to return it,” Chang Ning added coolly. Seeing Cai Zhao’s glance, he quickly added, “Sect Leader Song seems to have a superficial relationship with Luoying Valley,” implying that Song Shijun shouldn’t be considered one of her elders.
Cai Zhao: -_-
Fan Xingjia suppressed a laugh—he knew staying with these two would be more interesting.
Qi Yunke stepped forward. Without any apparent effort, he simply took a deep breath and struck out with his palm toward the distant gong. Moments later, a deep, powerful resonance filled the air above the crowd. The dark iron gong seemed to have been struck by an invisible hammer, vibrating continuously with an awe-inspiring presence. Years of accumulated dust showered down from it.
The crowd cheered in unison, praising Qi Yunke’s profound skill. Yin Sulian beamed with joy, her face radiant.
The second turn should have been Song Shijun’s, but he suddenly became modest, insisting that Zhou Zhizhen strike the gong instead. Zhou Zhizhen, not wishing to argue, smiled and then similarly struck out with his palm towards the gong. The plaza immediately resonated with the second gong strike. Though equally impressive, the cheers for him were slightly more subdued, but Zhou Zhizhen didn’t seem to mind.
Seeing this, Cai Zhao couldn’t help but ask, “If someone doesn’t have enough power to make the gong sound during each ceremony, what happens?”
Chang Ning lowered his voice, “Don’t be naive. Do you think striking this gong is just to inform the deities? It’s to intimidate other martial arts sects. Those without this level of skill shouldn’t envy the status of the Northern Chen Six Sects.”
Fan Xingjia nodded in agreement.
Finally, it was Song Shijun’s turn. He stepped forward with a profound expression, assumed a stance with equal gravitas, and then, seemingly casually but actually with great care, channeled his energy and struck out. The crowd heard the gong resonate for the third time.
Suddenly, someone cried out, “Look at the gong!”
Everyone strained their eyes to see. In the center of the dark iron gong, a palm print about half an inch deep had appeared.
The scene exploded like salt thrown into hot oil. The crowd erupted in cheers, discussing Song Shijun’s immeasurable skill:
“That’s dark iron, impenetrable by weapons, and yet look what Sect Leader Song has done!”
“No wonder Guangtian Gate has been growing stronger in recent years, even pushing Qingque Sect back a step!”
“I heard that if Sect Leader Song hadn’t needed to inherit the leadership of Guangtian Gate, Old Sect Leader Yin originally wanted this son-in-law to lead Qingque Sect!”
Faced with such discussions, Qi Yunke could only smile helplessly, while Yin Sulian turned pale with anger.
Cai Zhao muttered, “I think Uncle Qi and Uncle Zhou could probably leave a palm print too.”
Fan Xingjia also grumbled indignantly, “Exactly! No wonder he deliberately let Master Zhou go first. He was afraid Master Zhou might leave a palm print too! Master is just too modest to compete over such things!”
Chang Ning added, “I bet if Sect Leader Qi slapped Song Shijun’s face, it would make an even more impressive sound.”
“??” Both Fan and Cai turned to look at him simultaneously.
Song Shijun, buoyed by the praise, floated like an immortal while maintaining a humble demeanor as he gestured for everyone to quiet down.
Next was Yang Heying. Wanting to demonstrate Siqimen’s might without displeasing Song Shijun, he pondered briefly before deciding on a course of action. He assumed a stance, channeled his energy, and forcefully punched upwards. After a loud clang, everyone looked up to see a shallow fist print next to Song Shijun’s palm print. The crowd cheered again, though not as enthusiastically as before, but still more than for Qi and Zhou.
With equal power, a fist concentrates force more than a palm, clearly showing Song Shijun’s superior skill. This way, Yang Heying received applause without overshadowing the Guangtian Gate.
Amidst the cheers, both Fan Xingjia and Cai Zhao let out a “tch” sound.
Chang Ning suddenly said, “This Yang Heying’s power seems quite lacking.”
Confused, Cai Zhao asked why. Chang Ning explained, “Look at the first print. The middle and ring finger marks are deepest, while the index and little finger marks are much shallower. Although fingers have different lengths, when using internal energy to strike the gong, the force should be uniform. Look at Sect Leader Song’s palm print—it’s even all over, without depth variations. This shows Yang Heying’s power is insufficient; he had to concentrate all his strength in one spot, unlike the first three sect leaders who made it look effortless.”
Fan and Cai looked closely and saw it was indeed so. Noticing that Venerable Fakong remained motionless, Master Jingyuan observed coldly from the side, and both Qi Yunke and Zhou Zhizhen wore gentle smiles tinged with mockery, they realized Chang Ning’s words were true.
The last to strike the gong was Cai Chunqiu. Cai Zhao clenched her fists nervously.
Cai Chunqiu’s expression remained unchanged. Without waiting for the surroundings to quiet down, he casually struck out with his palm. The gong rang out unremarkably but with one difference—the previous palm and fist prints had all disappeared as if smoothed over like a mud wall.
The dark iron gong might have once been as smooth as a mirror, but after being struck for two hundred years, it had become uneven. Now, after Cai Chunqiu’s strike, it looked like a roughly smoothed mud wall.
The surrounding crowd suddenly fell silent, looking at each other in bewilderment, no one daring to speak. This was partly due to shock and partly for fear of displeasing Guangtian Gate and Siqimen if they cheered too loudly.
Master Jingyuan’s usually stern and cold face softened slightly.
Venerable Fakong chanted a Buddhist phrase and smiled, “Young Master Cai has made great progress over the years.” He had known the Cai siblings since Cai Chunqiu was twelve, hence the habit of calling him “young master.”
Nearby, Master Juexing laughed, “Luoying Valley’s leader is nearly forty now, Master. How can you still call him ‘young master’?” Although he had become a monk, his brother-in-law was still his brother-in-law.
Venerable Fakong responded kindly, “You’re quite right.”
Seeing that the abbot of Changchun Temple had spoken, others gradually began to offer praise, though not daring to overdo it. However, their gazes towards the Luoying Valley disciples now held more respect and caution.
Qi Yunke, seemingly unsurprised by the result, laughed heartily, “Well done, Chunqiu! You’ve saved me from having to send disciples up there to smooth out the gong.”
Song Shijun rolled his eyes and said with a hint of sarcasm, “Indeed, true talent often hides itself. Brother Chunqiu, your skills have greatly improved. Your sister wasn’t wrong when she always said you had potential and a limitless future.”
Cai Chunqiu replied calmly, “In my sister’s eyes, everyone in the world has their strengths. No one is born mediocre.”
Song Shijun turned away with a huff, while Zhou Zhizhen patted Cai Chunqiu’s shoulder in approval. In contrast, Yang Heying’s face darkened considerably.
As the gong-striking ceremony concluded and everyone was about to enter the hall, a disciple at the outer gate suddenly announced loudly, “Taichu Observatory’s Master Qiu arrives with his disciples to pay respects to the ancestors!”
Everyone was startled. Accompanied by a series of steady, powerful footsteps, a group of Taoists in light purple robes with gold embroidery and wide sleeves arrived gracefully. At the forefront was a man about forty years old, tall and imposing, with a square, handsome face. His deep purple Taoist robe was embroidered with dark gold stars—this was Qiu Yuanfeng, the leader of Taichu Observatory.
The purple-robed disciples parted like a flowing river, revealing four disciples carrying a bamboo sedan chair. Seated in it was an elderly man with a grizzled beard. As people looked closer, they saw that although the old man’s complexion was ruddy and his eyes bright, both his legs were amputated at the knees.
Qi Yunke and the others were startled. They stepped forward to pay their respects as juniors, addressing him, “Uncle Cangqiong.”
Venerable Fakong and Master Jingyuan also came forward to greet him.
“I never thought I’d see Taoist Cangqiong again in this lifetime after parting years ago,” Venerable Fakong said with emotion.
Cangqiong Zi smiled, “This old Taoist was ambushed by villains from the Demon Sect years ago and had to amputate both legs. I thought my remaining years would be spent in misery. Fortunately, my disciple has done well, so I’ve come to join the festivities today. Sect Leader Qi won’t turn me away, will he?”
As Cangqiong Zi was one of the few remaining elders among the six sects, how could Qi Yunke refuse?
Satisfied, Cangqiong Zi looked up and said, “Yuanfeng, my nephew, strike the gong first.”
Qiu Yuanfeng bowed and accepted the command. He casually struck upward with his palm, and the dark iron gong resounded four times in rapid succession as if struck repeatedly by an iron hammer. The crowd erupted in amazement, with Cangqiong Zi looking particularly proud.
“This… this must be Taichu Observatory’s supreme skill, the [Unnamed] Divine Technique! One palm strike producing four echoes, circulating and unending, truly a perfect blend of hard and soft, radiating dominance!”
“…If it’s a blend of hard and soft, how can it radiate dominance?”
“Don’t nitpick! Anyway, I think Master Qiu’s divine skill is world-class, no less impressive than the late Heroine Cai Pingshu!”
“No wonder Taichu Observatory’s influence has been soaring in recent years, seemingly about to surpass Guangtian Gate…”
“Shh, don’t say that! There are many Guangtian Gate disciples here, don’t let them hear!”
Now it was Song Shijun’s turn to look displeased.
Although Cai Chunqiu’s earlier strike was impressive, Song Shijun had been confident he could match it. However, Qiu Yuanfeng’s display was extraordinary, and Song Shijun wasn’t sure if he could replicate it.
Seeing Song Shijun’s unhappy expression, Yang Heying immediately spoke up, “Brother Yuanfeng, what a grand display! Today is the ancestors’ memorial day, not a battle with the Demon Sect. Why bring such a large group to intimidate us?”
Looking around, everyone noticed that Taichu Observatory had indeed brought more disciples than the other sects. These disciples carried brocade boxes, silk-wrapped bundles, or held high banners… creating an imposing presence.
Qiu Yuanfeng, naturally dismissive of Yang Heying, smiled and said, “The 200th anniversary of our ancestors is rare. Every Taichu Observatory disciple wanted to pay their respects, and seeing their sincerity, I brought a few more. What’s the matter, Sect Leader Qi? Surely Qingque Sect can accommodate our disciples?”
Qi Yunke displeased but maintaining his composure, replied seriously, “Qingque Sect can certainly accommodate them, but Muwei Palace cannot. During the ceremony in Chaoyang Main Hall later, many disciples will have to remain outside.”
“That’s fine,” Qiu Yuanfeng said nonchalantly.
Song Shijun snorted heavily, “If you knew the rarity of this 200th anniversary, why did you dawdle until the last moment to arrive? It’s hard not to suspect intentional disrespect!”
Qiu Yuanfeng seemed to have been waiting for this comment. He laughed heartily and called out, “Second Senior Brother, bring it forward.”
A well-mannered, dignified middle-aged Taoist slowly approached, presenting a red wooden box.
Cai Zhao whispered, “Is he ordering around his senior brother?” Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to have a disciple do this?
Chang Ning glanced at the middle-aged Taoist a few times and said, “That’s Wang Yuanjing, the second disciple of Taichu Observatory’s late Master Canghuan Zi. Qiu Yuanfeng is the third disciple. The legless Cangqiong Zi is the old master’s junior brother.”
Cai Zhao frowned, “Then where’s old Master Canghuan’s first disciple?”
“Died at the hands of a Demon Sect elder twenty years ago,” Chang Ning said, his eyes unmoved.
Fan Xingjia couldn’t help adding, “I heard Senior Brother Lei mention that back then, Master Canghuan’s first disciple, the great hero Wu Yuanying, was quite a character in the martial world. Not only was his martial arts superb, but he was also incredibly righteous and magnanimous. Senior Brother Lei said he loved to bring his junior brothers, carrying huge wine jars, climbing mountains, and crossing rivers to drink with everyone. Alas…”
Cai Zhao sighed, then asked, “Isn’t Senior Brother Lei coming out today? Even Senior Brother Li from the outer sect is here.”
Fan Xingjia’s mood darkened, “Master has invited him many times. Senior Brother Lei says he’s just a useless cripple now and doesn’t want to embarrass the sect.”
As they spoke, Wang Yuanjing placed the red wooden box in the center of the open space. Song Shijun frowned, “What’s this?”
Qiu Yuanfeng waved his hand, “Second Senior Brother, no need to be so cautious. Open it for everyone to see.”
A young, handsome Taoist standing next to Wang Yuanjing looked angry, seemingly wanting to rebuke Qiu Yuanfeng for his casual manner, but Wang Yuanjing held him back. Wang Yuanjing then personally stepped forward to open the red wooden box.
Everyone looked in unison, followed by a series of gasps—inside the box was a gruesome human head with disheveled hair and beard!
Cai Zhao was startled too, covering her mouth to stifle a cry.
Chang Ning, realizing she had never seen a dead person before, felt a surge of pity. However, Young Master Chang’s way of showing compassion was unique. Instead of offering soft words of comfort or shielding her, he leaned in and said very seriously, “Don’t be afraid. Dead people can’t harm you. It’s the living you should fear.”
Unsurprisingly, Cai Zhao glared back, “Thank you for informing me, Senior Brother!” She then turned away abruptly.
Fan Xingjia silently expressed his respect for Chang Ning.
“Who is this?!” Zhou Zhizhen rarely lost his composure, “Uncle Cangqiong, today is the ancestors’ memorial day. What is Brother Qiu’s intention here?”
Cangqiong Zi waved dismissively, “This old Taoist no longer concerns himself with worldly affairs. Yuanfeng is the observatory master now; everything is up to him.” Despite his words, his expression was one of satisfaction.
Qiu Yuanfeng, observing Song Shijun’s extremely unpleasant expression, spoke slowly, “Brother Zhou might not recognize this person, but Brother Song certainly does—this is Sima An, the leader of Leigong Stronghold.”
Leigong Stronghold was a sizable fortress within Guangtian Gate’s sphere of influence, managing a remote dense forest and having some reputation in the martial world. Sima An was the newly appointed leader of Leigong Stronghold, known not only for his martial skills but also for his ability to curry favor.
Qiu Yuanfeng’s words left everyone even more confused.
Song Shijun slowly stepped forward, “What does Observatory Master Qiu mean by this?” He certainly knew this man; just last year, Sima An had personally come to Guangtian Gate to present expensive gifts for Song’s birthday.
Qiu Yuanfeng smiled slightly, his words laden with implication, “Our ancestors dedicated themselves to eliminating evil and protecting the innocent. By bringing this man’s head today, I’m paying respects to our ancestors’ spirits in heaven!”
Song Shijun’s pupils contracted sharply.
Yang Heying stepped forward, “Leigong Stronghold is within Guangtian Gate’s jurisdiction. Even if Sima An had done something improper, it should be for Brother Song to judge. What business is it of Taichu Observatory?”
“We feared there wasn’t enough time,” Qiu Yuanfeng said sarcastically.
Seeing the situation deteriorating, Qi Yunke stepped forward and said sternly, “What exactly did this Sima An do? Brother Yuanfeng, please speak plainly.”
Qiu Yuanfeng lifted his robe and slowly stepped forward, assuming an air of importance before speaking, “Leigong Stronghold originally belonged to the Lei family. Years ago, old Master Lei adopted Sima An, saw his potential, and imparted all his martial arts to him. When Sima An grew up, seeing that his talents surpassed even his own son’s, old Master Lei decided to pass the leadership to him and even betrothed his beloved daughter to him. Who would have thought this ungrateful beast, upon seeing the beauty of old Master Lei’s daughter-in-law, would harbor thoughts of seizing her for himself? This animal first plotted to have old Master Lei’s son fall to his death from a cliff, then poisoned young Miss Lei with a long-lasting illness. If Taichu Observatory had arrived a day or even half a day later, I fear old Master Lei would have met with misfortune as well.”
After hearing this story of ingratitude, the crowd murmured in dismay. Yang Heying thought to himself, ‘Adopted sons and sworn brothers are never as reliable as one’s flesh and blood,’ glancing at Cai Chunqiu beside him, silently criticizing that only an unorthodox sect like Luoying Valley would treat a son-in-law as their own.
Amidst the discussions, Song Shijun said in a deep voice, “How is it that I knew nothing of this?”
Qiu Yuanfeng laughed, “Hehe, actually, someone did try to report it. Old Master Lei’s daughter-in-law was quite clever. Seeing that Sima An had taken control of the entire stronghold, she pretended to go along with him while secretly sending a trusted maid to seek help. However, the Guangtian Gate is large and prosperous, and its disciples are proud. They didn’t take the shabby little maid seriously and, reportedly, drove her away without letting her explain.”
“And then this little maid was encountered by people from Taichu Observatory?” Song Shijun’s face was extremely dark.
“Correct,” Qiu Yuanfeng couldn’t hide his smugness, “By heaven’s grace, someone was still able to bring justice to the Lei family.”
Cangqiong Zi chimed in opportunely, “It was Nephew Yuanfeng’s attentiveness that saved the Lei father and daughter.”
After the explanation, the Taichu Observatory disciples were all extremely pleased with themselves, while the Guangtian Gate crowd looked gloomy and dispirited.
The scene fell silent as everyone realized Guangtian Gate had lost significant face.
In this situation, even Qi Yunke found it difficult to judge:
First, Taichu Observatory had indeed overstepped its boundaries.
Second, Taichu Observatory had indeed saved the Lei family.
Third, praising Qiu Yuanfeng for doing the right thing would be a slap in the face for Guangtian Gate and Song Shijun.
Fourth, rebuking Qiu Yuanfeng would be emotionally inappropriate.
Fifth… There was no fifth point. The Sect Leader’s head was throbbing!