Parting

In the blink of an eye, several hours had passed, and the elder above finally finished reading out the results.

A rough tally of this recruitment yielded over six million Outer-Disciplinary Servants, over two million outer disciples, over one million nominal disciples, and more than five hundred thousand Inner Disciples. There were only a scant thirty thousand or so Personal Disciples.

Yet a disciple's status did not represent everything. Servant Disciples whose cultivation surpassed that of Personal Disciples were everywhere.

Being a Personal Disciple merely meant that one's overall talent stood several levels above that of a Servant Disciple, with their respective positions as far apart as heaven and earth.

Of course, Heavenly Prodigies who could become Personal Disciples were naturally far from weak.

With the results announced, they naturally reached the part everyone anticipated most.

If an elder took a liking to them, even Servant Disciples could leap straight into the ranks of Inner Disciples. Every recruitment saw quite a few people favored by the goddess of fortune, so naturally, everyone waited with eager anticipation.

Above them, tens of thousands of elders, protectors, stewards, and others surged into view like schools of carp crossing a river. Each displayed their abilities as they raced down, scrambling to get ahead.

They feared that the slightest delay would cost them the disciples they fancied, allowing someone else to beat them to the prize and snatch those disciples away. Would that not leave them drowning in regret?

Meanwhile, quite a few powerful figures concealed within the void could no longer restrain themselves either. They revealed themselves, ready to take disciples.

The disciples gathered below craned their necks in anticipation, standing as straight as green pines. They silently prayed that one of the sect's powerful figures would take a liking to them and accept them as a disciple.

In an instant, the grounds became extraordinarily lively, voices boiling into a deafening uproar.

Amid the clamor, the outstanding Personal Disciples naturally became the most sought-after candidates.

Long Chen, Jun Mo, Luo Shuihan, and others, for instance, were instantly surrounded by dozens of powerful figures, all of whom favored them and eagerly wanted to take them under their wings.

For a time, arguments rose one after another without end. These powerful figures grew red in the face, none willing to yield. Quite a few even rolled up their sleeves, looking ready to come to blows right there.

By comparison, things were much calmer around the Inner Disciples. After all, their strength and talent were relatively inferior. Only a handful of particularly outstanding geniuses prompted elders or protectors to fight over them.

Most of the other Inner Disciples had only a single elder approach to ask whether they wished to become that elder's disciple. In such cases, the two sides generally hit it off immediately, leaving everyone happy.

As for the nominal disciples, outer disciples, and Servant Disciples of the outer sect, their situation was entirely different.

Only a tiny handful occasionally caught the eye of a protector or steward and were selected as disciples. This was undoubtedly an extraordinary stroke of luck.

Whenever that happened, cries of astonishment immediately rippled through the surrounding crowd, envy written all over their faces.

Yet although only a few powerful figures stood around Qing Yun, Wang Yong, and the others, no one dared casually approach them.

The elders seemed to give them all a wide berth, as though they were raging floods and savage beasts.

The powerful figures surrounding Qing Yun, Wang Yong, and the others either looked like handsome young men and beautiful young women, or white-haired old men and old women.

A faint pressure emanated from them, making it obvious at a glance that they were not to be trifled with. What ordinary elder would dare swallow a bear's heart and a leopard's gall, then try to pull teeth from these tigers' jaws?

"Girl, why not cultivate under me? The cultivation methods, resources, and everything else I can offer are dozens of times better than what Personal Disciples receive..."

"Girl, don't believe her boasting. As long as you take me as your master, I guarantee I'll make you one of the very best disciples. Within three years, your name will resound throughout the world!"

"Boy, I see you have a powerful build. You're suited to inherit my cultivation method..."

"Young man, I see that your innate constitution is exceptional..."

"Young man, I see a strong thirst for killing in you. Why not follow me and cultivate the arts of slaughter..."

Qing Yun, Qing Ying, Wang Yong, and the others watched the powerful figures chatter ceaselessly around them. No matter how their words made flowers rain from the heavens, they remained silent, troubled expressions on their faces.

"Thank you for your favor, seniors. We must first ask our young master's opinion before making a decision."

At last, Qing Yun spoke with a solemn expression, neither servile nor overbearing.

She led the others over to Ming Hao.

"Young master, we..."

"So you're their young master, boy? I advise you to stop treating them as attendants and throwing your status around. Things are no longer as they were. Set them free at once, or else..."

Before Qing Yun could finish, a hot-tempered old man interrupted her.

"Exactly. Only by cultivating under us can they realize their talents. Following you will only waste their time."

"Young friend, how many resources did the lineage behind you expend to raise them? I'm willing to compensate you tenfold..."

"Boy, your talent and theirs are as far apart as heaven and earth. Clinging to those girls will only bring harm upon yourself..."

"Seniors, if this is your attitude, there is no need to say another word. I certainly will not become your disciple."

Qing Yun spoke with a livid expression.

"The same goes for all of us," Wang Yong and the others declared.

"Everyone, you must not be rude to our young friend or speak without restraint. Young friend, as an ancestor of this sect, I apologize on their behalf."

A man who looked like a youth spoke in a low voice.

Seeing that a sect ancestor had spoken, everyone looked sheepish and fell silent.

"You are too courteous, senior. I never intended to stop Qing Yun and the others from taking you as their masters and forging their own paths along the Great Dao.

"I also respect their wishes. As for whom they take as their masters, that must depend on their own choices!"

Ming Hao answered neither servilely nor arrogantly, without the slightest anger, as though he had not heard a single one of those ugly remarks.

"Young master, we..."

"Say no more. I already told you that once you enter the sect, each of you will have your own opportunities. Seize them. There is no need to waste your time following me!"

Before Qing Yun could get her words out, Ming Hao firmly interrupted her.

"Choose suitable masters at once and cultivate under them." With that, Ming Hao turned his head aside, no longer meeting their eyes.

"We obey your command, young master." Qing Yun and the others' eyes reddened slightly as they fought back the tears threatening to spill.

Thirteen years earlier, they had been carefully selected from all corners of the world by the Great Qin Dynasty and painstakingly trained in secret. Every resource they needed had been provided, leaving them without a single worry.

From then on, they had only one mission: to obey Ming Hao's commands and protect their young master's safety with their lives!

In truth, they already had suitable candidates in mind. Anyone whose words or demeanor had shown unfriendliness toward their young master was excluded from consideration; those who had shown him goodwill received priority.

Before long, Qing Yun and the others had made their choices.

Qing Yun chose the sect ancestor who had spoken kindly earlier as her master. Qing Ying chose someone who looked like a beautiful young married woman, while Wang Yong chose a middle-aged man who was as burly as he was.

The rest each chose the master they believed suited them. Some looked like young men or women, some like middle-aged married women, and others like old men or old women. None were ordinary figures in rank or standing: they were sect ancestors, masters of the Various Halls, or Peak Masters, all holding illustrious positions.

"Young master, we have chosen our masters," Qing Yun said, her voice catching slightly.

"Then that is enough. Cultivate under them with your minds at ease." Ming Hao never once turned his head to look at them.

"Take care, young master. If anything important arises, send us a message. We will come as quickly as we can!"

"Take care, young master," they said in unison. Then they reluctantly turned and followed their newly accepted masters away, looking back three times with every step.

The powerful figures who had failed to secure the disciples they wanted dispersed in a rush. Not one spared Ming Hao a proper glance.

It was as though they were loudly declaring: You are not worthy...

Only after Qing Yun and the others had gone far away did Ming Hao slowly turn his head. He gazed at their departing figures, remaining motionless for a long time.