"Second Senior Brother, I beg to differ."
"We sword immortals of Mount Shu value charging forward without hesitation, avenging grudges and repaying kindness with gusto!"
"If Changqing cowered and held back just because he feared offending others, then what invincible sword dao would he even be cultivating?"
"Exactly!" Even Bai Wuya, the White-Clad Spear King, rarely spoke up. One hand pressed to his spear hilt, battle intent surged from his entire body. "Young people should be a little high-spirited! Without any temper, how can you be first?"
Just as the two sides were about to break into an argument, Chen Yuan, seated at the head, gave a soft cough.
"Enough."
The moment he spoke, every voice fell silent.
"I did not summon you all here today to debate Changqing's way of handling matters."
Chen Yuan's gaze swept across the hall before finally settling on Wu Xing.
"The sect grand competition is at hand. By the rules, each holy land may send three disciples to participate."
"As Mount Shu's First Holy Son, Changqing shall naturally take one of those places."
"As for the remaining two spots, does anyone have candidates to recommend?"
As Chen Yuan finished speaking, the several Peak Masters behind him were about to speak.
But Daoist Wu Xing on the opposite side beat them to it.
"Sect Master, Senior Brother."
Wu Xing stepped forward and cupped his hands slightly toward Chen Yuan.
"As for the candidates, I have a proposal."
Chen Yuan raised a brow.
"Oh? Speak, Junior Brother."
The gazes of everyone else also converged on Wu Xing in unison.
Chen Changqing was interested as well.
He was curious what sort of person this old fellow, who had always disliked the sight of him, could possibly recommend.
After all, Mount Shu's renowned Holy Sons of this generation,