Done!

Truly, each age brings forth its own talents, each leading the way for a hundred years!

After Gu Han entered seclusion and withdrew from worldly affairs, the younger generation of Treasure Pearl Temple in Great Yan had long since become the domain of others.

In just the third year of Gu Han's seclusion, Jingyuan, the senior disciple of the Jing generation in Prajna Hall, was the first to break through to Muscle Tendon Strengthening Perfection.

Afterward, with the aid of a Lesser Returning Pill, a year later, Jingyuan successfully broke through to Blood Tempering, his renown reaching an unprecedented height.

The following year, Jingyan, the senior disciple of the Jing generation in the Dharma Institute, seeing Jingyuan's breakthrough, followed closely behind and also broke through to Blood Tempering.

In the years that followed, many outstanding disciples of Prajna Hall and the Dharma Institute in Treasure Pearl Temple gradually began to shine with their own light, like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, breaking through to Muscle Tendon Strengthening Perfection one after another, then striving toward the Blood Tempering realm.

One, two, three...

By the fifth year of Gu Han's frenzied cultivation, Yuanyin, the senior disciple of the Yuan generation and a thirty-five-year-old monk of the Dharma Institute, finally gained some insight. In a single morning, he stepped past the threshold of Inner Qi, generating Inner Qi within his body, becoming a supreme expert of the realm. He succeeded to the position of Dharma Institute Head, marking the beginning of the Ben generation's retreat and the Yuan generation's rise to become heads of the various halls and institutes.

In the seven or eight years that followed, after Yuanyin, others of the Yuan generation gradually broke through to Inner Qi one after another, succeeding to the leadership of their respective halls.

By the thirteenth year of Gu Han's frenzied cultivation, as the last Ben-generation head of Treasure Pearl Temple retired to become an elder of the temple, a full cycle of succession was completed. The Yuan-generation monks officially stepped onto the stage of history, becoming the highest decision-making body of Treasure Pearl Temple, the sacred martial site of Great Yan, and taking charge of the temple's many affairs.

Another cycle had turned!

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

From the majestic and solemn Treasure Pearl Mountain, three tolls of the great bell shook the mountain temple, startling countless birds into flight.

A year later, in Treasure Pearl Temple of Fangnan Prefecture, Great Yan, a new disciple initiation ceremony officially began.

But this time was different from before. Because with the generational shift of the Yuan-generation monks in the previous year, the newly initiated disciples could no longer be of the "Jing" generation.

Instead, they were the first generation of the "Kong" generation—among the eight seniority ranks of Treasure Pearl Temple: "Liao, Jue, Ben, Yuan, Jing, Kong, Wu, Heng"—little novice monks.

"The Abbot has arrived!"

A resonant voice rang out. Under the nervous, expectant, worried, or excited gazes of the crowd of young novices about to be initiated in the Great Hero Hall, the burly Abbot Yuanyin, draped in a great crimson kasaya, led the heads of the various halls as they slowly approached. He then intoned a Buddhist salutation and spoke:

"Amitabha. Jingyi, the hour is nearly upon us. Have all the disciples to be ordained today arrived?"

"Reporting to the Abbot, they have all arrived!"

Hearing Yuanyin's question, the yellow-robed monk Jingyi, who appeared to be in his twenties, quickly replied with reverence.

"Mm. Very good. Since all have arrived, let the initiation ceremony begin."

Yuanyin smiled and nodded, and then the initiation ceremony of Treasure Pearl Temple officially commenced.

Over the next nearly two hours, Yuanyin led the various heads and the assembled disciples through the rites of burning incense, prayer, chanting sutras, paying homage to the Buddha, announcing to the patriarchs, and receiving the tonsure atop the head. Finally, the time came to assign the disciples to the various halls and institutes:

"Disciple Kongxing, formally ordained as a disciple of our Treasure Pearl Temple. His bone structure and aptitude are both excellent. He may enter the Dharma Institute!"

"Disciple Kongwen, formally ordained as a disciple of our Treasure Pearl Temple. His bone structure and aptitude are ordinary. He is assigned to the Arhat Hall!"

"Disciple Kongzhen, formally ordained as a disciple of our Treasure Pearl Temple. His bone structure and aptitude are both excellent. He may enter Prajna Hall!"

"Disciple Kongxing, formally ordained as a disciple of our Treasure Pearl Temple. Although his bone structure and aptitude are ordinary, his comprehension is astonishing. He may enter the Medicine Master Institute!"

One resonant voice after another rang out. Upon hearing that they were assigned to the Dharma Institute or Prajna Hall, the disciples naturally beamed with joy, their eyes bright and spirited, brimming with confidence as if countless stars shone within them.

As for the disciples assigned to the Medicine Master Institute, though they showed no great excitement on their faces, neither did they display much disappointment. Most were fairly composed.

Only the disciples assigned to the Arhat Hall had dim eyes and drooping heads, despair in their hearts, as they woodenly followed the Arhat Hall Head, the Blood Tempering Perfection expert Yuanhuai, back to the hall.

"What's this? Why is everyone so listless? Lift your heads!"

Seeing the disciples' dispirited state, Yuanhuai, who had just succeeded as Arhat Hall Head and had yet to be beaten down by reality, glared with wide, furious eyes. With a look of utter frustration, he shouted at the fearful disciples:

"What? Do you little monks think that joining my Arhat Hall today means you have no future? Then let me tell you right now—your thinking is completely and utterly wrong!

Gold shines wherever it falls. Success depends on human effort. As long as a person works hard, a disciple of Arhat Hall is no worse than those from Prajna Hall or the Dharma Institute!

Take, for example, the disciple Jingfan, who joined Arhat Hall five years ago. He is your role model. In just five years since joining Arhat Hall, he has already broken through to Muscle Tendon Strengthening and is advancing toward Muscle Tendon Strengthening Minor Success, no worse than the disciples of the Dharma Institute or Prajna Hall.

And there's Jingchen, who joined eight years ago. He too has achieved success in the martial path. After eight years of bitter cultivation, he broke through to Muscle Tendon Strengthening Minor Success and remains undefeated in bouts with many Dharma Institute disciples. Then there's Jingyuan, who joined ten years ago, and Jinghai, who joined twelve years ago. And even..."

Here, Yuanhuai paused, a trace of hesitation flickering across his face, before he finally spoke:

"The disciple Jingming, who joined my Arhat Hall seventeen years ago—he was a true peerless prodigy! After three years of martial training, he was already a match for a Blood Tempering expert.

During King Tang's visit to the mountain fourteen years ago, he overpowered Wang Lang, the general under the barbarian lackey Wang Zhongyi, not only saving the Dharma Institute's senior disciple Jingyuan but also severely wounding Wang Lang with a single blow, leaving him half-dead.

Such a peerless prodigy—not just in today's Dharma Institute or Prajna Hall, but in the entire thousand-year history of Treasure Pearl Temple, how many can compare? How many can contend with him? And he was a disciple who came from my Arhat Hall!"

"Whoa..."

As Yuanhuai's words fell, the crowd erupted in a stir. All sorts of complex emotions played across everyone's faces.

There was shock, there was joy, but most of all, there was disbelief.

"H-Hea-Head, what you said... is it true? Is that Senior Uncle Jingming really stronger than Wang Lang, the adopted son of the barbarian lackey Wang Zhongyi down the mountain?"

After the commotion died down, a thin, frail-looking little novice finally mustered his courage and stammered out the question.

Because it was simply too incredible.

After all, who was Wang Lang?

Legend had it that this man was the reincarnation of the Heavenly Killing Star, born into this world specifically to slaughter every mortal upon it. Men called him by the epithet "Mad Wolf Butcher," and from this one could see just how heavy his bloodlust was, how ruthless his nature!

Back when he served under King Tang's command, though he killed countless men, he could still barely be said to have exercised some restraint.

But ever since eleven years ago, when King Tang was defeated in battle and Wang Lang followed his father—the traitorous cur Wang Zhongyi—in defecting to the barbarians, this man became like a mad wolf, his killing urge no longer containable.

In these short eleven years, throughout the entire land of Yan, the number of Yan people who had died directly or indirectly by Wang Lang's hand was likely no less than several hundred thousand, if not a million. He had brought ruin to countless families, leaving them homeless and broken.

Such a blood-deep enmity meant that every son of Yan who heard the name Wang Lang wished they could eat his flesh and sleep on his hide!

But unfortunately, this man's strength was far too great. Though his martial realm was merely Blood Tempering Perfection, his combat prowess could barely match a newly initiated Inner Qi expert. Moreover, he spent his days amidst a great army, surrounded by countless soldiers for protection.

It was said that some days ago, five Inner Qi experts from the land of Yan had gone together, intending to infiltrate the barbarian army and capture or kill this villain, ridding the land of Yan of a scourge.

In the end, not only did they return empty-handed, but he had coordinated with the army to kill three of them and severely wound the other two, cementing his fearsome reputation.

Now, these young monks suddenly heard that their own Arhat Hall had once possessed a man who could severely wound Wang Lang with a single move. How could the disciples not be shocked? How could they not be overjoyed? How could they not swell with pride?

The novices thought to themselves, then turned their eyes full of anticipation toward Yuanhuai, the head of Arhat Hall, hoping for his confirmation.

"Heh! This old monk is the dignified head of Arhat Hall—would I bother deceiving a bunch of newly initiated little novices like you? This matter was common knowledge back then. Just find any senior disciple of the Jing generation over twenty-five years old and ask around, and you'll know whether this old monk speaks truth or falsehood!"

Seeing the many young monks looking at him with doubt, Yuanhuai gave a cold laugh and spoke.

"Your reply, Head! This disciple would never dare! A man of your stature would certainly not deceive us. Rest assured, Head, from now on we will train hard in martial arts, take Senior Jingming as our model, and bring glory to the name of Arhat Hall!"

Seeing Yuanhuai's solemn oath, the many novices exchanged glances, their doubts vanishing. They then spoke their promises with fervent excitement.

"Excellent!"

Yuanhuai heard this and immediately beamed with satisfaction.

And just as Yuanhuai was using Gu Han to inspire the disciples, at the rear mountain of Treasure Pearl Temple, a man sat cross-legged in meditation. His clothes were filthy and stained, unwashed for who knew how long. His beard was tangled and matted, and his body even gave off a foul stench. At this very moment, this man—Gu Han—finally...

Opened his eyes.

"It is done!"

Gu Han spoke, a smile blooming on his face. There was no ecstatic joy, no wild laughter—only a natural ease, only a joy radiating from the depths of his heart, like the Buddha's flower sermon, filled with boundless power to move the soul.

When you looked at him, it was as if no matter how deep your sorrow had been before, no matter how heavy your burden, you could not help but smile in return, all pressure dissolving away!