A spare piece on the chessboard?
Lü Zheng asked himself again and again: who exactly was that senior who had suddenly appeared to save him and guaranteed that he would pass this assessment?
Was he some aged elder within the Longevity Sect? Or an enemy from outside?
All he knew was that he knew nothing—not even how he was supposed to pass this assessment.
Lü Zheng looked at the long line ahead. They were disciples who, like him, had only just joined the Longevity Sect. Everyone wore neat Daoist robes, while his own clothes remained covered in filth.
"Quite a few among you spent no small amount of scheming to enter the Longevity Sect. Some of you have relatives within the sect, and some learned a few petty tricks. But none of that is any use. The Longevity Sect is not a place where you can sponge off others for the rest of your lives."
At the very front, a martial uncle in the Divine Soul Realm was lecturing them.
His face was covered in flesh, and a tiny head had grown from his neck.
That extra head was filled with sinister intent, its narrow eyes staring fixedly at the disciples below.
"But let me tell you, none of that matters. Because the one in charge of this assessment is me, Yao Ninger."
"Perhaps your elders have all warned you that I am the sect's notorious mad dog, a man who gives face to no one. With me, a nail is a nail and a mortise is a mortise. Neither may be muddled."
"You have only just entered the sect. What you have learned is the Origin-Reverting True Formula, cultivating the true qi within your acupoints."
As Yao Ninger spoke, he soared into the air and landed atop a bronze