One evening ten days later, the four grand gentlemen of the Territorial Patrol Guard had, for once, all gathered before dusk. They even brought out food and wine, covering the broken stone table outside the Sword Abode.
They called Hou Niao over from his cultivation. Master Pang wore a solemn expression.
"Word has come from Jincheng Prefecture. Our spies have confirmed that what you said was true, so our Quanzhen Sect has approved your eligibility to apply.
"Your Third Master Luo happens to be going to Jincheng on business early tomorrow morning. Go with him. The road is far from peaceful, and you'll be safer traveling with him. Your cultivation is still a little too low. Worrying."
Hou Niao fell silent. He had long known this day would come, but now that it truly had, he had never expected to feel not relief, but a sense of loss.
The urge he had felt ten days ago to lop off every last one of these bastards' heads with a single stroke had vanished entirely. He did not know why, but little by little, everything in Jiangyou was changing his views.
For someone who took the law as his very nature and possessed a steadfast will, this was frightening. Was this the Demonic Sect's power to bewitch people's hearts?
In his dealings with these men, apart from their initial utter unreasonableness and habitual brutality, the four gentlemen did have some backbone and integrity. Though they had exchanged few words, they had never tripped him up or played dirty behind his back.
There was neither enmity nor kindness between them, so there was no need to explain too much. He did not wish to speak, and the four might not wish to listen.
They preferred using swords to moving their lips.
He stood and raised his wine. "We met in Jiangyou, with our lives' courses still unsettled. If things go smoothly in Jincheng, I hope to have another chance to share wine and conversation with you, senior brothers."
With that, he drained his cup, and each of the four drank with him.
He had merely been cleared of suspicion; he was not yet a Quanzhen disciple. If he joined the sect, they would be fellow disciples, and naturally there would be a future. If he could not enter, there was nothing more to say. Their connection would be no more than morning dew.
Sensing that the atmosphere was still rather heavy, simply because their acquaintance had begun unpleasantly, and that the four gentlemen felt somewhat apologetic but could not swallow their pride, he smiled faintly.
"I wouldn't presume to ask you senior brothers for help. We're all straightforward, forthright men. But concerning Quanzhen's grand recruitment, I hope you'll tell me every taboo and everything I need to watch out for, so I don't make another fool of myself."
It was well put, offering a path to reconciliation and a step down that everyone could accept, while remaining within the gentlemen's power.
Master Pang chuckled. "When it comes to our Quanzhen Sect's requirements for accepting disciples, we certainly have some authority to speak.
"The Quanzhen Sect is the oldest sect on the Brocade Continent, without exception! All those branches of the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect appeared later. Some only began emerging after spiritual energy manifested in heaven and earth, whereas our Quanzhen already existed thousands of years before spiritual energy emerged."
Listening to Master Pang expound on history with such reflected pride, Hou Niao could hardly point out the truth: With such a long, ancient history, how have you fallen further and further behind? Not only have you failed to sweep across the continent, you've been overtaken by the Daoist Sect and Buddhist Sect, and even branded the Demonic Sect. Does "demonic" sound so flattering?
Master Pang spoke in an unbroken torrent about Quanzhen's glorious history, only returning to the subject after a long while.
"Our Quanzhen recruits differently from the Daoist Sect. The Daoist Sect looks at aptitude, potential, cultivation, age, and perhaps a tiny bit of character. But Quanzhen doesn't look at age, nor do we place much weight on so-called aptitude and potential, because none of those things is set in stone.
"We look at only one thing: Sword Gall!"
Master Pang leisurely raised his teacup, and Second Master Lu took over.
"In the eyes of their Daoist Sect, Quanzhen Sect is the Demonic Sect. But judged by our art, we can also be called a sword sect!"
"Cultivation takes different directions, with different roads reaching the same destination, but we have only one way of expressing our art: the sword!
"Some people believe we abandon the root to chase the branches, straying from the essence of cultivating the Dao. But this is Quanzhen!
"The sword has five realms: courage, heart, intent, force, and soul!
"We won't discuss the later realms for now, but every new Quanzhen disciple must possess Sword Gall. Otherwise, you cannot grasp the true essence of the sword. This concerns character and will. It cannot be forced, nor is it something you can acquire through cultivation."
"Without Sword Gall, even if your talent knows no bounds and is rarely seen in this world, you cannot enter Quanzhen!"
Hou Niao gained some understanding. No wonder the Daoist Sect called Quanzhen the Demonic Sect; their conduct was indeed eccentric and extreme. No wonder, either, that the Quanzhen Sect's influence had failed to flourish along with its long history. With that temperament, it would be a miracle if it flourished.
After all, most people in this world liked peace and stability. How many were born with a fondness for fighting and killing? So-called violent thugs were shaped by their experiences growing up; that was another matter.
This one requirement alone would cause them to miss countless outstanding talents. No wonder they had failed to grow powerful after thousands of years of development.
Their selection pool was far too narrow, dooming them to lack the foundation needed to grow and prosper.
Scholar Luo continued, "Most cultivators who take Quanzhen Sect's entrance trial know very well what they're about to face, so there's never a shortage of cruel, bloodthirsty people. They probably think killing a few people means they have Sword Gall. That's wrong."
"Sword Gall isn't murderous intent! It may encompass your convictions, courage, fearlessness, refusal to yield, and other things combined. It's difficult to explain with one precise phrase. If you understand, you understand; if you don't, you never will."
"Profound Connection masters will be responsible for screening you for admission, because many who come seeking entry are notorious bandits and brigands of long standing. Some are sincere; others merely want to escape something or obtain something by joining Quanzhen...
"Like those people we killed in the White Poplar Forest. They actually wanted to join Quanzhen! We can accept you, but we cannot accept people whose hands are steeped in innocent blood.
"But outwardly, bound by Quanzhen's rules passed down over thousands of years, we cannot change anything. Nor can we secretly kill all these scum among cultivators!
"So even if you really join us, we cannot guarantee that every Quanzhen disciple will treat their fellows and the weak as kindly as we do.
"That's why we're called the Demonic Sect. For some people, it's heaven; for others, it's hell!"
Fourth Master Liang spoke last. "Nothing but the same old words going round and round, not worth a damn. I say just do whatever you were going to do. Being accepted isn't necessarily a blessing, and being rejected isn't necessarily a calamity. Why think so much?
"Come, come, drinking is better. One good drunken bout dissolves a thousand sorrows."
They began passing cups and exchanging toasts, no longer dwelling on admission. Fourth Master Liang's words were crude, but the reasoning was sound. What he said made good sense. The key was still whether Quanzhen suited Hou Niao's temperament; thinking too much would do no good.
Once the wine had warmed their ears, Boss Pang produced a sword and handed it over. "Since you aspire to join Quanzhen, wearing a saber is no longer quite appropriate. Switch to a sword.
"Jiangyou has a well; swords forged there possess their own spirit. The shopkeeper buried this sword underground to pass down as a legacy. We brothers bought it to give to you. Consider it a settling of the White Poplar Forest affair.
"Just take it."
Hou Niao knew this was the sort of thing he could not refuse, so he gladly accepted. They continued drinking until they were swaying and slumping every which way.
Scholar Luo sat leaning to one side, murmuring a poem:
...In Jiangyou, a sword lay buried; water and earth nurtured its metal essence. Deep beneath the ninefold earth its edge lay hidden; only after a hundred years did its blade emerge. In the heavens it bred the Dipper's aura; drawn from its case, it sang like a dragon. Worn at a warrior's waist, it made ten thousand miles feel light.