"Of course. Every disciple of Qingxiao Sect has the right to make their own choices."
Chu Jing looked at the timid Zhang Ping and replied softly. He felt helpless, thinking Zhang Ping was truly a lump of mud that couldn't be shaped.
He had stumbled upon a fortuitous opportunity, but lacked the courage to match it. The road ahead would likely be difficult.
He had invited Zhang Ping to join the Immortal Guard not merely because he valued his cultivation. When Zhang Ping had first joined Qingxiao Sect, he had clung to Chu Jing, and they had gotten along well. That was why Chu Jing wanted to give the junior a leg up.
"Then I'd better not join. Thank you for thinking so highly of me, senior."
Zhang Ping answered seriously, now wary of Chu Jing.
For some reason, Chu Jing looked vaguely familiar to him, even though Chu Jing had wrapped himself up tightly.
Chu Jing said no more and turned to leave.
Zhang Ping sat back down and breathed a sigh of relief.
"The sect is getting more and more dangerous, too. It's hard to cultivate in peace."
Zhang Ping sighed inwardly. He wondered whether he should go out on his own to gain experience. After all, so many years had passed; Xuan Gong must be dead by now, or far from the Nine Provinces. He had no enemies out there.
After thinking it over for a while, Zhang Ping decided to visit the Training Hall tomorrow.
News of the Immortal Guard's establishment spread through the sect, making the Eight Halls, the Sword Sect, and the Martial Hall all feel their authority was under threat. But when they heard the Immortal Guard had only twenty members, they breathed a sigh of relief.
Jing Gong was a rising