Sect Recruitment: I Can See Attribute Entries

Central Continent, before the mountain gate of Tianyan Sect.

The little novice monk of Daoxuan Temple rubbed his head and stared at Tianyan Sect’s gate — resplendent, stately, beyond all pomp — the shock plain in his eyes.

People of the world said the Eighteen Immortal Sects could shoulder the heavens alone, and one look at this sect gate, wreathed in immortal air with spirit power surging through it, was enough to make a true believer of anyone.

Most of the Buddhist orders under heaven had sprung, one way or another, from Great Thunder Temple of the Central Continent, and fell under its indirect authority.

When it came to depth of Buddhist law, Great Thunder Temple bristled with Buddha Children; how many geniuses underwent their hard cultivation within its walls.

So it was only natural that temples founded afterward bore Great Thunder Temple’s mark.

But not every Buddhist order was so.

Daoxuan Temple of the Central Continent had not sprung from Great Thunder Temple, nor did Great Thunder Temple rule it directly.

For a simple reason: if you truly traced Daoxuan Temple’s founding back, its history came nowhere near short of Great Thunder Temple’s.

Both cultivated the Small Vehicle Buddhist Teachings — yet even within the Small Vehicle there were wholly opposed philosophies, and with such an early founding, Daoxuan Temple had shaken free of Great Thunder Temple’s shadow.

In the Central Continent it counted as a banner raised alone. It had won its freedom — but lost Great Thunder Temple’s direct shelter in the bargain.

Of course, if it really wanted to spend that borrowed prestige, it still could. After all, not everyone knew that Daoxuan Temple and Great Thunder Temple shared no direct bond.

Out in the world, name-dropping Great Thunder Temple was still enough to frighten anyone ignorant of the details.

And lacking Great Thunder Temple’s direct backing, aside from a handsomely built temple and adequate spirit veins, Daoxuan Temple was poor in a way you could almost call pristine.

Daoxuan Temple’s abbot sat today at no more than the Spirit Transformation realm. Perhaps it was also that the temple was genuinely small, its influence slight — which was why Great Thunder Temple had always kept a free-range, hands-off attitude toward it.

The little novice monk rubbed his head, taking in the magnificent sect gate, taking in the Tianyan Sect cultivators in Tianyan Sect disciple’s robes whose cultivation depths couldn’t be fathomed, and he, too, shrank himself small as he peered about.

Before such a colossus, a person’s heart couldn’t help but knock.

He watched Qian Qing — who had been hammering on this mountain gate for half a year hunting a monk named Yuan Kong — report to the Tianyan Sect cultivator, whose face had gone cold.

Daoxuan Temple’s abbot stood slightly ahead of Qian Qing, a thin, ingratiating smile on his face as well.

Frightening ordinary people was one thing. But frightening Tianyan Sect — a peer among the Eighteen Immortal Sects? Even hauling out Great Thunder Temple to borrow its tiger’s skin wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“Yuan Kong?” The Tianyan Sect disciple’s brow furrowed. He thought a moment, then gave a small nod. “He is here. He could come to Tianyan Sect under his own power. But your name, Qian Qing, was never announced. If you have a token of proof, I might carry word up for you.”

Qian Qing rummaged over her body at that, and at last drew from her travel pack a plain, unpretentious, battered old wooden fish:

“This was made by Yuan Kong’s own hand. Will it serve as proof?”

The Tianyan Sect cultivator said nothing, but even the little novice monk glanced at it and wanted to dig his toes into the ground.

The battered wooden fish held not a trace of stored spirit-light, and no divine sense deposited in it either. It was just a battered wooden fish.

Even if some Yuan Kong had really carved it by hand, that proved nothing now — for who was to say Qian Qing hadn’t whittled it herself out of idle hands?

Bringing a thing like this forward — no one would acknowledge it.

The Tianyan Sect disciple looked down at the wooden fish for a while, then lifted his gaze back to Qian Qing, his tone level:

“You’re a martial artist, not a cultivator. I’ll assume you simply don’t know how things work here, and not hold it against you. But if that is all you have — please leave.”

Qian Qing gripped the wooden fish tight, drew a deep breath, and carefully set it back where it had come from. Then she spoke:

“I know Chu Xingchen. He should be of Tianyan Sect as well. He can vouch for who I am — and he’s the one who told Yuan Kong he could come to Tianyan Sect to find him.”

Beside her, the little novice monk couldn’t even keep a straight face at that.

Chu Xingchen?!

Where had Qian Qing picked up that name, that she’d blurt it out casually — and pick the biggest possible one to blurt? Then again, it was only to be expected: if a mere martial artist was to know anyone, the only one worth naming was the most famous man alive.

As to whether Qian Qing actually knew him — the little novice monk could think it over with his toes and still smell a lie.

If Qian Qing knew Chu Xingchen, would she have needed to come begging Daoxuan Temple for help?

And a figure of that caliber — never mind whether he’d even come out to acknowledge an acquaintance. It would be better if he didn’t come out. But if he did, and took offense at some stranger name-dropping him, then we’d be the ones eating the consequences and carrying them home.

Chu Xingchen stood at what tier, after all?

Runan the Honored Buddha of Great Thunder Temple had to treat him as an equal. In days past, this was the man who had squared off against the entire Buddhist establishment of the Western Niu Continent.

A figure like that could sneeze and tear Daoxuan Temple down till not one splinter of wood remained.

The Daoxuan Temple abbot’s composure cracked too. He hastily tugged at the pack on Qian Qing’s back, his voice gentle:

“If you don’t know the man, then don’t pretend you do. There are some people one must not claim to know. Better to let this honorable Tianyan Sect friend note down your name, and when Yuan Kong arrives we’ll mention it to him.”

The Tianyan Sect disciple withdrew his gaze and returned a slight, formal cup of his hands.

The abbot exhaled in relief at that and hurried to bow in return.

Qian Qing’s lips pressed faintly together. She looked at Daoxuan Temple’s abbot:

“Thank you, abbot, for bringing me this far. Everything from here is my own affair — you may turn back now.”

“Don’t do anything foolish!” The abbot’s brows knotted, his plea long-winded and heavy-hearted. “In all things, tension needs its measure. Pure pressure gains you nothing but loss. If today holds no fate for you, wait quietly for another day — don’t throw away the last of your chances.”

The little novice monk nodded furiously beside them. “Yes, yes! Today we should count ourselves lucky this Tianyan Sect senior’s magnanimity is too great to bother with us.”

Qian Qing’s lips stayed pressed tight. She had seen it all clearly, along the whole road here.

Tianyan Sect’s mountain gate was ringed in a chain of maze formations. By the little novice monk’s account, without Foundation Establishment cultivation, a person could walk for a lifetime and never reach the gate — only circle near the exits, then leave.

She was a martial artist. Even converting every scrap of her cultivation, she would never touch Foundation Establishment.

But once she walked away, she would truly surrender every last bit of leverage.

Yuan Kong had left without a moment’s hesitation. Naturally, he would not come back for her.

Now and then, streaks of rainbow light flew past before Tianyan Sect’s gate and dove inside, like shooting meteors, urging the heart on.

Qian Qing cupped her hands once more: “Senior, I truly do know Chu Xingchen. He’s handsome, wears white robes, and talks with a wit to him. When you have a moment — could you pass my name up? If a word of what I say is false, I’ll bear it all myself.”

The words had barely landed.

The two streaks of rainbow light that had flown into Tianyan Sect flew back out again.

Then two figures descended.

The Tianyan Sect disciple looked them over, then at once clasped his fists:

“Senior Uncle Chen. Senior Uncle Lin.”

Qian Qing looked too. Both arrivals were women — one with a face of unmatched beauty, robed in white; the other upright of countenance, with an air of vast righteous qi about her.

Chen Baiqing gave a small nod. Then her gaze rose, settling on Qian Qing, and she asked in a soft voice:

“You know Chu Xingchen?”

“I truly do. I’ve drunk wine with him.”

“Are you here for Chu Xingchen?”

“I’m here for Yuan Kong.”

Chen Baiqing sized her up twice:

“A pure martial artist?”

“Yes…” Qian Qing pressed her lips.

It was a certainty — this cultivator with the peerless face was bound to say that the gulf between immortal and mortal was a wall beyond crossing, that even seeing the man would change nothing, and all the rest.

But some things — if you never ask them through, never get an answer — how could a heart ever submit?!

Chen Baiqing recalled a moment, then said:

“Yuan Kong is away from Tianyan Sect for the time being. But if you insist on coming in, you can follow me.”

Qian Qing froze, plain disbelief on her face.

Chen Baiqing’s gaze came calmly back.

The way things stood, two looks had been enough for her to piece it together.

Just a martial artist who had no idea what kind of world cultivators lived in, that was all.

No matter how true, words repeated over and over are wasted words.

A person has to see a thing with her own eyes before she understands the reasoning in it.

And this — she supposed — would also smooth over a little of the trouble Master had courted.