Eldest Senior Brother

The events that followed were unremarkable.

Vice Envoy Yao led everyone to a deep pool and creek valley behind Xuanming Manor, ordering them to wash away the dust before changing into sets of identical dark gray garments.

These clothes were similar to those worn by the special group of boys and girls An Jing had seen earlier, though they were somewhat simpler in design.

Next came the recording of the roster.

"An Jing, Gufeng County, Xuanque Prefecture, Hanbei Province, bone age eleven..."

"Xia Li, Hanhai Prefecture, Hanhai Province, bone age twelve..."

"Tang Yuanding, Laifeng City, Liuguang Prefecture, Hanbei Province, bone age nine..."

An Jing stood at the very front with his eyes lowered, silently memorizing every name and origin called out to analyze their backgrounds.

Most of the children and teenagers gathered by Xuanming Manor were from the areas north of the Hanhai region that had suffered through the Frost Calamity. The most remote among them was a girl named Bai Qinghan from Hannan Province, one of the three Hanhai provinces.

She had likely not suffered from the Frost Calamity, but rather the Hanhai Demon Calamity nearly a decade ago; she was a survivor born during that catastrophe who had struggled to stay alive until now.

Once the roster was finalized, the count stood at two hundred and forty-eight. The five individuals not recorded on the list were the black-robed youths An Jing had noticed earlier; they had already been taken away.

After the roll call, dusk began to settle, and it was time for the evening meal.

The dinner prepared by Xuanming Manor was simple: a large bowl of plain chestnut rice, a large bowl of a peculiar, medicinal-smelling bean mash, and three oil-and-salt-brushed flatbreads.

It was simple, yet everyone ate with great relish. Once the steward announced that they could eat, the entire hall fell silent, save for the sounds of eating.

After all, they had spent over a year suffering through disasters, surviving on tree bark and grass roots along the way, and had endured over ten days of bumpy travel to reach the manor. How could they possibly turn their noses up at such hearty portions?

Furthermore, each person was allotted a pot of meatball soup. In the brown earthenware pot, three white meatballs floated in a broth shimmering with oil, looking exceptionally appetizing. An Jing scooped one up and took a bite; the long-lost taste of meat filled his mouth, the springy texture and savory saltiness making it impossible to stop.

Even An Jing, usually so composed, had no time to think about anything else while eating. It was only after he finished and was led by a servant to his quarters that he finally snapped back to reality.

This Xuanming Manor is quite skilled at manipulating the human heart.

Standing before his bamboo bed, An Jing looked back thoughtfully at the pavilions of Xuanming Manor under the moonlight.

For the vast majority of these bought children, they had just been rescued from disaster zones, cured of stubborn illnesses, and traveled far from their homes after a grueling journey, leaving them feeling anxious and insecure.

Then, they arrived at this secluded manor isolated from the world—they were at their most vulnerable and sensitive, precisely when they needed a pillar of support the most.

Xuanming Manor bathed them and gave them new clothes, washing away their past fatigue, panic, and fear, while using identical attire to foster a sense of shared identity.

Finally, by calling out the roster, they established a sense of being recognized, and used generous, filling meals and a bit of meat to deepen everyone's gratitude toward them.

Thinking of this, An Jing couldn't help but sigh inwardly: That is, if I didn't possess the wisdom of my past life and a naturally suspicious nature—but even so, my impression of Xuanming Manor isn't bad; in fact, it's quite good.

After all, they really did spend money to treat our illnesses and use grain to buy us. So far, no one has persecuted or abused us teenagers, and the food, drink, and clothing are impeccable... So that's how it is.

At this moment, a realization dawned on An Jing.

When he was young, he had never really understood the "loyal retainers" and "secret agents" in historical novels; he could never grasp where their loyalty came from or how they could remain so devoted to their masters while lurking in the shadows.

But now, he understood a little—if Xuanming Manor continued to cultivate these boys and girls in this way, by the time they reached adulthood, each one of them would be an absolute die-hard loyalist to the manor.

Lurking in the shadows? That was nothing. Even if Xuanming Manor were truly some evil sect, it wouldn't hinder this loyalty.

They would view the world's vigilance, disgust, and suspicion toward Xuanming Manor as mere slander, and would sincerely believe from the bottom of their hearts that Xuanming Manor was the only righteous side.

The worse the reputation of Xuanming Manor became in the outside world, the more furious these people—who had received the manor's grace and fully accepted their identity as its disciples—would become. They would self-purify and crystallize, becoming the true foundation of Xuanming Manor!

And that was assuming Xuanming Manor was an evil sect; if it were a prestigious, righteous school, it would be even easier to make people willing to die for it, to sacrifice themselves for the "greater good"!

"Hmm..."

Having eaten their food, An Jing found it hard to say much against them. Recalling the taste of the meat from the soup earlier, he smacked his lips and muttered to himself: "Fine, eat their meat, do their work."

Because of his personality and his past-life wisdom, An Jing knew that it was highly unlikely he would ever possess this kind of absolute, blind loyalty to anyone in this life.

But if the salary and benefits were good enough...

He could be a loyal subject, too!

Xuanming Manor separated the children by gender, arranging a private space for each person.

It was a layout that was open from front to back, much like a large dormitory, though they used bamboo walls to separate everyone.

The room was tiny, only large enough for a bed and a small gap to stretch one's feet, but this cramped environment was exactly what made these disaster-stricken children feel secure—having spent so long using the sky as a blanket and the earth as a bed, people would rather huddle in their own small, warm space than face the wind and rain.

An Jing couldn't help but think of capsule hotels. Although he didn't fully understand what a capsule hotel was, images would surface in his mind, allowing him to deeply comprehend those unfamiliar concepts.

This was the wisdom he had carried since childhood. An Jing's past-life wisdom, along with his mature way of thinking, was the reliance that allowed him to protect himself despite facing numerous dangers.

Since things had come to this, he might as well sleep.

Feeling extremely exhausted, An Jing knew that rather than analyzing the manor's methods of cultivating loyal disciples, it was better to get some sleep and restore his energy.

He lay on the bed, covered himself with the blanket, and fell into a deep sleep.

For the next period of time, Xuanming Manor did nothing, instead allowing the two hundred-plus survivors to adjust their schedules, nurse their stomachs and bodies back to health, and adapt to the water and soil of the mountain forest.

They claimed to be an ancient, hidden lineage. Because their living environment was too harsh and they lived long-term in deep, remote forests, it was difficult to recruit normal disciples. For the sake of passing on their heritage, they would go to various places to buy orphans and refugees who could endure such a life.

This explanation was actually quite flimsy. If it had been said in a refugee camp or upon their first arrival at the manor, anyone who believed it would have to be a bit dim-witted.

But given that Xuanming Manor had already taken care of everyone's food and lodging, allowed the teenagers to sleep in peace, provided daily meals with meat and new clothes, and had neither sold them into slavery nor whipped or abused them—

With these facts as proof, whatever they said, these children would believe.

From the perspective of An Jing, Xuanming Manor was like a massive, closed-off training camp.

Every morning, the manor would gather all the children, with the riders acting as instructors to teach a set of simple physical conditioning martial arts. In the afternoon, they were taught to read and write, followed by physical examinations conducted by physicians.

These martial arts were far inferior to the ones passed down in An Jing's own family, but they were indeed effective for strengthening the body. An Jing had only ever learned the introductory chapters of his family's martial classics, so there was no harm in learning other techniques.

As for reading and writing, they studied an ancient destiny scripture called the Huangtian Sutra. It wasn't some sort of brainwashing text; it primarily focused on revering the will of the heavens and performing sacrificial rites, and it was circulated throughout various regions of Da Chen.

There was a meal after both the martial arts practice and the evening study sessions. An Jing believed these were some form of medicinal meals, and he could feel his body rapidly recovering and becoming healthier under the combination of these meals and sufficient sleep, his gaunt frame beginning to fill out.

This routine continued for half a month, and everyone's spirit and vitality were vastly different from when they first entered the manor. Except for An Jing, all the other children had completely accepted their identities as disciples of Xuanming Manor.

Even someone as cautious as An Jing began to feel that this place was actually quite good.

Eating and sleeping every day, reading and practicing martial arts—what a life of luxury!

For most of them, this life was far better than what they had experienced at home before the Frost Calamity, and they began to view Xuanming Manor as their true home.

Meanwhile, during this period, An Jing also gradually became familiar with the other boys and girls.

First, because An Jing had both martial training and literacy, and was the most talented among this group, he was occasionally called up by the instructors and lecturers to demonstrate movements or recite scriptures for the others, for which he would receive rewards and praise.

Secondly, it was also because An Jing possessed a truly remarkable appearance.

When they first arrived at the manor, everyone was essentially skin and bones, making it impossible to discern their true features or bearing.

Yet even then, An Jing's aura was enough to suppress the doubts of the others, with only a small minority harboring any dissatisfaction.

As everyone's health gradually improved, An Jing also recovered his original appearance.

Blessed by nature with an elegant and refined bearing, this was his true self. After a year of wandering and slaying numerous villains, even when An Jing smiled, there was an underlying sense of danger, like a clouded leopard in the mountains—graceful yet bloodthirsty.

Even Manor Master Yao would sigh repeatedly, noting that with An Jing's appearance, he didn't need to say a word; anyone would naturally hold him in high regard.

Regarding the arrangements made by Xuanming Manor, An Jing was outwardly full of gratitude, but inwardly, he was analyzing the situation with a cool head.

He naturally understood that this was a low-cost method of winning people over, designed to make him—the individual with the best performance and appearance—instinctively identify as one of their own, a "senior brother," fostering a strong sense of belonging while also attracting other children to build a sense of community.

At the same time, it could also stimulate the competitive spirit and desire to win in the other children who were "unwilling to fall behind."

An Jing did not take pride in this identity, but there were always other boys and girls gathering around him because of it.

However, whether it was because of the "senior brother" status or his appearance... even An Jing himself wasn't sure.

In any case, the children in his dormitory now all acted with him at the center. Without realizing it, he had truly become a figure akin to an older brother, leading and organizing the group whenever they gathered to go to the cafeteria or the martial arts arena.

Like a true senior brother, he guided the other junior brothers and sisters in their studies, and such a life was truly easy to get too relaxed in.

However, these were all just the prelude.

Xuanming Manor was, after all, a sect with a martial arts heritage; it was impossible for them to let people eat and drink for free and live a life of luxury forever.

Very soon, the incredibly grueling formal training arrived.