[New author, new book. Dear bosses, please enjoy reading. I won't collect your brains; please set them aside yourselves while reading and put them back afterward.]
The Tianyang Sect was especially quiet at night. Aside from birdsong and the roars of beasts, there were practically no other sounds.
Dressed in the crimson fitted uniform of a direct disciple of the Tianyang Sect, Zhang Qingyuan wore a dark red headband and tilted his sharply defined face toward the sky.
He had a high nose bridge and handsome features, and a trace of sorrow flashed through his bright eyes beneath the moonlight.
His master had died. Today marked the seventh day after his passing.
This was the Great Zhou dynasty, on Phoenix Cry Mountain outside Phoenix Cry City in the east. This place was called the Tianyang Sect.
More than eight hundred years had passed since its founding patriarch, Venerable Tianyang, established the sect. It had lived through three dynasties and had once enjoyed a period of great prosperity.
Never mind anything else-within the Tianyang Sect alone, there were over a dozen training grounds and no fewer than a thousand rooms, including living quarters, kitchens, a library pavilion, a weapons pavilion, a Dao comprehension pavilion, guest rooms, reception rooms, grand halls, toilets... just looking at these buildings, you could tell how impressive the Tianyang Sect had been at its height.
Unfortunately, six hundred years ago, after the Xiongnu swept south and took control of the Central Plains, the Tianyang Sect suffered a round of weakening.
Five hundred years ago, the Golden Fire Cult wreaked havoc on the martial world, and the Tianyang Sect suffered another round of weakening.
At long last, four hundred years ago, the Great Qian dynasty was founded. The people lived and worked in peace, and the martial world welcomed an explosion of talent.
Lineages, sects, and factions rose one after another.
As these emerging forces flourished in succession, they once again squeezed the room for established sects to survive.
Apart from the top established sects with their formidable foundations, old sects like the Tianyang Sect found survival increasingly difficult.
Someone might ask: weren't there established sects that remained unaffected and even reaped a windfall?
Heh, any that reaped those benefits were either Buddhist or Daoist. They had faith on their side; religious orders were always in demand.
Sects like theirs, which relied purely on martial arts to establish themselves, had no selling point and really could not compete with those new arrivals.
For example, Buddhism and Daoism were like major tobacco and liquor companies. No matter how fierce a financial crisis or the internet age became, those two industries would not be affected.
Martial sects like the Tianyang Sect, meanwhile, were like the factories of old.
When the working class led everything, they were certainly the top dogs.
But once the internet age arrived and the capitalists got their hands on things, didn't those factories close down one after another? How many could remain?
Between the end of Great Qian and the beginning of Great Zhou, the world had experienced a thirty-year gap without a unified dynasty.
Back then, rival powers rose everywhere, and the unorthodox path ran rampant.
The Tianyang Sect was already declining further and further, but as part of the orthodox martial world, it still had to take purging the martial world and defending the orthodox path as its duty.
Its experts died in batch after batch, and its sect masters were replaced one after another.
By Zhang Qingyuan's generation, there were only seven direct disciples.
Well, actually, having the seven of them already counted as his master reviving the sect.
Because in his master's generation, there had only been three direct disciples: his master and his two junior martial uncles.
Now they had seven direct disciples, enough to say that their master had done well and had not disgraced the ancestors.
Zhang Qingyuan could proudly declare, "My master was better than my grandmaster. My grandmaster only took three disciples, but my master took a whole seven!"
Sigh, thinking about this crap was completely useless.
Because his master and both martial uncles were dead. Truly, they had not asked to be born on the same day of the same month of the same year, only to die on the same day of the same month of the same year.
Three months ago, the Emei Sect's leader and the Golden Mountain Temple's abbot jointly sent out invitations to heroes throughout the world. Seven schools, eight sects, two temples, and countless rogue cultivators and wandering martial heroes gathered to besiege the Heavenly Principle Cult in Kunlun.
The orthodox forces of the Central Plains won a great victory. The Heavenly Principle Cult existed in name only, with just a few stray kittens fleeing in all directions.
In this battle, the Golden Mountain Temple's abbot, the Emei Sect's leader, the Heavenly Star Sect's master, the Bright Moon Sect's master, and others rose to great fame.
Quite a few wandering martial artists also made names for themselves, earning praise from countless people in the martial world.
But all three of the Tianyang Sect's experts fell together.
Several hundred years ago, a stamp of the Tianyang Sect's foot would have made the martial world tremble three times. Now it had fallen to the point where its sect master and two elders served as cannon fodder in a team fight.
Fallen so low, fallen so low!
When his master was alive, he had at least been a third-rank martial artist, and both martial uncles had been in the fourth-rank realm.
Martial arts in this world had realms, ranging from ninth rank to first rank, with ninth rank the lowest and first rank the highest.
The nine ranks were divided into the upper three ranks, middle three ranks, and lower three ranks.
That could wait until later.
His master, an expert in the upper three ranks realm, had died just like that. For the Tianyang Sect, it was no different from snow piling atop frost.
This was precisely why Zhang Qingyuan felt lost. Only the seven martial brothers remained in the entire Tianyang Sect.
When their master and martial uncles had still been around, the other factions near Phoenix Cry City had not dared make any unusual moves.
But now their pillars were all gone, and the Tianyang Sect's considerable estate was enough to draw other factions into a frenzied scramble.
When they visited the graves today, his senior brothers had barely spoken. None of them could make up their minds.
Actually, Zhang Qingyuan felt quite attached to the Tianyang Sect. He was not from this world. Originally an ordinary workhorse on Earth, he had transmigrated into this world and into the original owner's body after a run-in with a truck.
When he first transmigrated, the original owner had been ten years old. His master had found him while traveling down the mountain, brought him back to the Tianyang Sect, and taken him as a disciple.
He had been on the mountain since arriving in this world, eating, dressing, living, and growing up here, so he did not want this home to fall apart.
Mainly, it was such a large mountain and such a large sect. Even if they sold the estate, wouldn't each of the seven martial brothers receive two or three hundred thousand taels?
Whether the sect remained did not matter. Anyone who wanted it could pay.
Want it for free? Like hell!
Besides, not all six of his senior brothers were like him, sons selling their fathers' fields without a pang.
He was a transmigrator, but the others were all locals.
So Zhang Qingyuan understood that his senior brothers would definitely want to preserve the Tianyang Sect.
Even if the sect were to fall, it could not happen in their generation.
Checking the time and deciding it was about right, Zhang Qingyuan rose and headed toward the meeting hall.
During the day, they had held the seventh-day rites for their master and two martial uncles. After dinner that evening, their eldest senior brother had said they should discuss the sect's future development and the selection of a new sect master.
The martial brothers arrived at the meeting hall one after another.
Some could not hide their grief, while others felt lost.
With their master gone, their eldest senior brother took the main seat, and the others sat down in order.
Looking at his six senior brothers, Zhang Qingyuan shook his head helplessly.
"Well..."
Their honest-looking eldest senior brother spoke. His name was Zhao Guangqi, and he was thirty-seven this year. Formerly an orphan, he had been adopted and raised by their master. He was honest by nature too, a thoroughly nice fellow, and he had the deepest attachment to the Tianyang Sect.
"I... well... uh..."
"If you haven't thought it through, let Old Seventh speak. Old Seventh has more brains than you."
Their third senior brother, Bian Zhenxuan, waved a hand, unable to stand his hemming and hawing, and interrupted him.
Zhang Qingyuan had been mischievous and quick-witted since childhood, full of crafty ideas and able to get along with anyone. He was the darling of the group.
He had already transmigrated-why keep acting weighed down by bitter grudges?
So he was the most popular.
"I'll explain my thoughts first. Once I'm done, Qingyuan, help me sum them up."
Zhang Qingyuan nodded. "No problem. Go ahead."
Eldest sighed softly. "Here's the situation. This afternoon, the White Dragon Gang's chief and the East Sea Sect's leader both came to see me.
"The White Dragon Gang wants our sect's property, meaning this land and these buildings.
"As for the East Sea Sect, they want our Tianyang Sect to merge into their sect."
"Isn't that bullshit? A gang in the city dares covet our property? And that East Sea Sect doesn't even have an Upper Three Ranks expert. Aren't they afraid of stuffing themselves to death?"
At this point, the hot-tempered Old Sixth spoke, his tone utterly disdainful.
"There's nothing we can do. The East Sea Sect might not have an Upper Three Ranks expert, but they have several hundred disciples. They have the strength."
Their fifth senior brother, Li Moran, sipped his tea and pointed out their current situation. "Our sect doesn't have anyone in the upper three ranks now either. Second Senior Brother might be a fourth-rank expert, but he's just one person. Can he compare with their entire sect?"
"Hmph!"
Their second senior brother was named Zheng Jianxin. He held his sword all year round, never letting it leave his side, his face cold as frost. His expression and bearing constantly told others: I am a swordsman without feelings.
He generally did not offer opinions, because he simply had none. He was used to speaking with his sword.
"See? See?" Sixth Senior Brother Li Moran pointed at Second Senior Brother. "Can we count on him?"
Eldest waved a hand, calming his two junior brothers. "So I think we should choose a new sect master as soon as possible and find a path that can lead us toward revival."
"Old Seventh, who do you think would be suitable?" Fifth asked again.
Zhang Qingyuan stood up and looked around at his senior brothers, saying helplessly, "I think that if we're choosing a sect master, anyone but Fourth and Old Sixth would do."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Their fourth senior brother, Bai Shuyan, was very unhappy.
This fellow was handsome-the kind of handsome that left him with no friends.
Of course, he had not let those looks go to waste. He had begun roaming the martial world at fifteen and was thirty this year. Over those fifteen years, he could be said to have girlfriends everywhere, giving him the broadest network among all the martial brothers.
"Old Seventh isn't wrong. If you became sect master, would you turn the Tianyang Sect into the Joyful Union Sect?" Li Moran chimed in with a jab.
"Tch, I don't even want the job." He sat back down and turned his head away, looking helpless.
Their sixth senior brother was named Sun Xiaotian. He was only three years older than Zhang Qingyuan, twenty-three this year. Honest by nature, he spoke little and did much, a sealed gourd.
Eldest was an honest man, but at least he had some shrewdness. Though warmhearted and reluctant to offend people, he spoke when he needed to and could think things through. He was just a little softhearted.
Old Sixth was different. He genuinely did not have a single cunning bone in his body, took whatever others said at face value, and was socially anxious too.
Sun Xiaotian smiled without speaking.
Zhang Qingyuan continued, "Eldest could be sect master. At the very least, he has the standing and seniority, he's kind, and he's in the fifth-grade realm himself, enough to handle some matters.
"Second Senior Brother is a fourth-rank expert. There's no need to say more.
"Third Senior Brother, your family is rich and runs such a large business. You're better at management than anyone."
"Hey, don't bring up management. I chose to come up the mountain and learn martial arts precisely because I didn't want to manage the family business."
"There's no need to say more about Fourth Senior Brother. We already covered him.
"Fifth Senior Brother is in the sixth-rank realm, but with his Tianyang Body-Protecting Divine Art, even ordinary fourth-rank experts can't break through his defenses.
"Sixth Senior Brother..."
"Mm." Old Sixth nodded with a grunt.
"As for being sect master, it doesn't matter. In peaceful times, any of us could be sect master. But if we want to lead the sect toward revival and development, Eldest's kindness and Old Second's abilities alone aren't enough.
"Besides the White Dragon Gang and East Sea Sect Eldest mentioned, there are countless factions, large and small, in Donglin City two hundred li away. Wouldn't they want a slice of the pie?
"What about the Bright Moon Sect, thirteen hundred li to the west? Do they have designs on us?
"Does the Lin Lineage Sword Fortress north of the city want this land on Phoenix Cry Mountain?
"Orthodox figures are prying, and unorthodox figures are also watching like hungry tigers.
"Our sect might have declined, but who wouldn't covet the thousands of books and nearly a thousand martial arts manuals in our library pavilion?"
Zhang Qingyuan had hit the nail on the head, and everyone looked at him.
It was simply because their martial prowess was insufficient.
If the sect had an Upper Three Ranks expert who went out performing chivalrous deeds and challenging people everywhere whenever he had nothing else to do, once their reputation rose, would they have to worry about finding disciples?
With disciples, a large following, and a flourishing sect, why would they need to worry about this?
But they had no such expert now, so they could only use their brains. Yet Eldest was softhearted, Old Second was a sword fanatic, Old Third was lazy, Fourth spent all his cleverness on women, Fifth had a venomous tongue, and Old Sixth...
"Junior Brother, just say whatever you have in mind. Of everyone here, you have the most ideas and the firmest judgment," their eldest senior brother said.
"All right, then I'll say it. I'll be sect master." Zhang Qingyuan volunteered. "I have an idea that can raise our Tianyang Sect's reputation in a short time and recruit at least a hundred disciples.
"Who's in favor, and who's against?"
Everyone first exchanged glances, and Eldest considered it for a moment.
"I'd feel reassured with you as sect master," Zhao Guangqi agreed, because he too felt that only Old Seventh was normal.
Troubled times called for harsh laws; without breaking the old, nothing new could be built.
He might be honest, but he was not without shrewdness. He understood that this was no time to cling to old ways. They needed innovation, even risky maneuvers.
Old Second said nothing, simply holding his sword and watching him quietly.
Old Third rubbed his chin. "But Little Junior Brother, your cultivation is only in the seventh-rank realm right now. You haven't even reached the middle three ranks. Your martial arts aren't quite enough."
Fourth nodded too, agreeing with Third Senior Brother.
Fifth objected, "I support Old Seventh. In our current situation, without an Upper Three Ranks expert, combat strength is useless. What we need is brains. You have them, but do you use them?"
Old Third fell silent.
"I... I'll go along with all of you," Old Sixth said listlessly.
"All right. Since none of you have any particular objections, I'll take the position of sect master."
Zhang Qingyuan looked around, and Eldest was the first to speak. "Agreed."
Old Second drew his sword and set it down, saying coolly, "Fine."
Old Third thought it over. "I'm too lazy to do it anyway. It's yours, Old Seventh."
"I agree too," Fourth said.
Fifth said, "Agreed."
Old Sixth said, "Mm."
Seeing that everyone had approved, Zhang Qingyuan smiled. "Since it's unanimous, I won't waste any more words. Let's rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, we'll hold the sect master succession ceremony, and I'll explain my plan while we're at it."
Zhang Qingyuan turned and left, and a system notification sounded in his ears.
[Congratulations to the host on becoming the Tianyang Sect's sect master. The Sect Prosperity System has activated. Please work hard to raise the sect's level. As its level rises, the system will issue a huge number of rewards.]
Listening to the system notification, Zhang Qingyuan's lips curled upward.
Why had he wanted to become sect master so badly? Wasn't it because his golden finger had arrived while he was looking at the moon earlier?