Chapter Twenty-One: The Ninth Elder

In the council hall, the elders took their seats one after another. Someone had somehow produced a small stool, and Shen Wan could only make do, settling beside Wei Zhen. He glanced gently at his young junior brother. Who would have thought this boy had no cultivation whatsoever? It turned out he’d been protected all along by the jade token Master had given him.

Wei Zhen felt fortunate—thank goodness he hadn’t whisked Shen Wan away just now. Though the spell he’d used wasn’t a spatial technique, merely a method for explosive movement, even such speed would have shredded an ordinary person to pieces. Only Shen Wan knew: his body could not be manipulated by external spiritual power. So, Wei Zhen had no choice but to fetch Shen Wan on foot, bringing him here.

After carefully explaining the situation to the elders, enlightenment dawned upon them. They exchanged glances and rose, each saluting Shen Wan in turn. After all, Shen Wan was a registered disciple of the founder. In the celestial realm, seniority was a matter taken very seriously. Direct disciples outranked ordinary ones; ordinary disciples surpassed registered; and though both inner and outer disciples were technically pupils, tradition dictated they be called students. No matter how extraordinary one was in the inner sect, before a registered disciple, one had to lower one’s head.

Among the eight elders present, only Elder Wei Zhen was a direct disciple of Tian Xuanzi. The rest had been strong inner disciples a century ago, staying to serve the sect and earning their status over a hundred years. Elders were elders, disciples were disciples. Thus, they had to address Shen Wan as senior brother.

Watching seven old men bow and call him senior brother, Shen Wan shot up from his stool. “Wait, shouldn’t I be the junior? Why are you all calling me senior?” Back on Earth, Shen Wan had an uncle a decade his junior, so he understood seniority well—but now, when age was decided by generation, he was completely lost.

Wei Zhen grinned and stood up. “You’re Master’s acknowledged disciple, even if only registered, you’re still a disciple.” He offered a casual explanation, then smiled at the other elders. “Alright, everyone take your seats. Now, let’s discuss how to settle my junior brother here.”

“Is that all?” Shen Wan wondered. He still didn’t understand, but the topic had moved on. Left with no choice, he sat back down, confusion lingering. Next, Wei Zhen introduced each elder to Shen Wan. After getting acquainted, the atmosphere grew subtly closer—a feeling that was hard to describe.

Looking at the elderly faces before him, Shen Wan noted that even the youngest looked about as old as his mother. Having them call him senior brother was hard to accept. If he knew the youngest was over three hundred years old, he’d probably want to drop dead.

After much discussion, they finally bestowed upon Shen Wan the title of Ninth Elder, granting him a residence in the territory of the Spell Pavilion. Of course, it was a nominal post, since Shen Wan had no cultivation. The elders planned to offer him resources from their own pockets, to see if this young senior possessed any talent for cultivation. If he proved mediocre, he’d simply be kept as a beloved oddity within the sect.

Just like that, without lifting a finger, Shen Wan found himself neatly arranged by this group of venerable elders.

Night approached, and dusk gradually deepened. The lively Qianxuan Sect grew quiet. Shen Wan lay on the bed in his new residence, his mind whirling as if watching a film. In just one day and night, he’d not only gained a house, but a high-ranking post. He had to admit, Tian Xuanzi was one hell of a patron.

On another level, perhaps due to the mystery surrounding those without spiritual power, even after a day of chaos, no one had discovered his secret. Thinking of the deep pit his senior brother had created, Shen Wan shivered involuntarily.

“Looks like I can’t show off anymore—I’d better keep a low profile.” This vulnerability could not be exposed; the more he thought about it, the more terrified he became. He decided: since he couldn’t cultivate, he’d focus on training his body. At least he could add some points to his physical strength.

“I’ll start exercising tomorrow morning!” Feeling he’d made a momentous decision, he closed his eyes and quickly drifted into sleep. Thus ended a day of turmoil.

Early the next morning, as the sky began to lighten, Shen Wan woke up naturally. He stretched, feeling refreshed, and glanced at the window with a sense of awe.

“The days here are so long—back on Earth, I’d have slept until the afternoon!” He couldn’t help but think of his parents, a wave of sorrow swelling inside him. The sadness hit unexpectedly. He washed his face with cold water—since he was here, he’d have to accept it. What else could he do if not settle in?

A bout of self-consolation, and his mood improved somewhat with the growing daylight. Remembering his decision from the previous night, he went to the courtyard to practice a set of military boxing moves. There were sixteen moves in total, but apart from the first three, he’d forgotten the rest.

Fortunately, the alternate radio calisthenics came to his rescue, easing the awkwardness. Humming the tune to himself, he executed the moves smoothly—probably more diligently than he’d ever done in three years of high school.

Finished with his exercise, washing up, and dressing, he was ready to go out… or at least to take a stroll. With a clatter, he unbolted and opened the door. The once-quiet courtyard burst into noisy life.

Outside, a crowd had gathered, reminiscent of yesterday.

“My god, does everyone in this sect have so much free time? Are they always holding assemblies?” Shen Wan looked at the clusters outside, thinking for a moment he’d slipped back to the previous day.

“Third Sister, did you hear? Someone climbed to the top of the Ten Prisons Tower this time.”

“Rumor, surely? No one’s ever reached the top since the sect was founded.”

“I don’t know, but word’s been buzzing since last night.”

“Ah, the Array Pavilion folks are really out of touch.”

“Who are you calling out of touch?!”

“If you don’t know, wait for the rankings. Our Pill Pavilion’s Senior Sister Ling Fei took fifth place.”

“Is fifth place so impressive?”

“Haha, haven’t you heard? Your Array Pavilion’s Zhao Lao’er’s brother only got sixth.”

“Just one place difference—what’s the big deal? If our Senior Brother Zhao hears about your loose tongues, you’ll all get beaten up.”

“Bring it on, we’re not afraid! Our Shuang-ge has been itching to settle last time’s score.”

“Hmph! Shuang the Blaster still hasn’t had enough of a beating?”

“Enough talk—if you’ve got guts, let’s arrange a duel between pavilions!”

“Who’s afraid of you?!”

“Look, look, Pill Pavilion and Array Pavilion are at it again.”

“Used to it, used to it.”

“……”

The scene was identical to yesterday.

Zhao Lao’er and Shuang the Blaster—these two were notorious indeed.

Shen Wan found it amusing, standing there and chuckling foolishly. Those within earshot turned to look, and upon seeing Shen Wan, froze before hurriedly bowing.

“Disciple greets Ninth Elder!”

Voices rose and fell, somewhat chaotic.

Shen Wan was stunned. “Wow, that fast? Everyone already knows I’ve been promoted overnight?”

He didn’t realize that the events at the Ten Prisons Tower yesterday had been witnessed by most of the sect. The pavilion masters had spread news of his identity far and wide. The inner disciples recognized him instantly—primarily because he wore the black robe reserved for elders.

Seeing this, Shen Wan could only wave his hand at the crowd, signaling them to rise. It felt wonderful to play the part.

“Wait, why am I calling it ‘playing’? Now I really am… cough, cough…”

Shen Wan nearly convinced himself it was all an act.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar figure. Lian Daiying was among the crowd, glaring at him fiercely.

“Her again?” Shen Wan was speechless. Was the girl some kind of demon, haunting him relentlessly?

As soon as Lian Daiying saw Shen Wan looking her way, her murderous gaze intensified. Shen Wan felt a chill run down his back, worried she might come over and bite him again. Yet remembering his current status, he straightened up, puffing out his chest and deliberately tugging at his black robe.

Lian Daiying’s teeth ground audibly. Her eyes flashed a challenge, as if to say, “Come over here!”

“Hmph!” She snorted fiercely, then saluted Shen Wan with lightning speed before vanishing into the crowd.

“Uh…” Now it was Shen Wan’s turn to be at a loss.

“That girl has no manners—she definitely needs a lesson or two,” he muttered audibly, then caught sight of another familiar figure—Lin Bufan, who was meandering along with the crowd, deep in thought.

“Brother Lin, Brother Lin!” Shen Wan called out, his voice not loud but unmistakable.

Lin Bufan followed the sound, seeing Shen Wan waving at him. “Shen… Ninth Elder?” He jogged over and greeted Shen Wan respectfully.

“Disciple greets Ninth Elder.”

“You rascal,” Shen Wan said, reaching out to grab him by the neck and dragging him into the residence.

With a bang, the door slammed shut, and the disciples outside stopped and stared.

“Ninth Elder… likes that sort of thing?”