An incense stick of time later, Xiang Tiange led Xiao Yifeng into the main sanctuary of Wuya Hall—the Wenxin Hall.

The entire lineage of the Wentian Sect’s Wuya Hall had gathered. The hall was paved with massive white flagstones, and the ceiling shone with an emerald, jade-like luster. Stone pillars, intricately carved with coiling dragons and dancing phoenixes, lined the walkway, exuding an imposing grandeur that rivaled the imperial palaces of the mortal realm.

In the center of the floor, a massive "Dragon" character was etched into the stone, dominating the space.

The hall was extraordinarily spacious. Upon the high dais sat a massive chair carved from a single block of translucent green crystal of unknown origin. Beside it sat a slightly smaller, yet equally exquisite, jade throne.

Two figures occupied the dais. One was, of course, the Hall Master of Wuya Hall, Su Qianyi.

The other was a stunningly beautiful woman in formal palace attire. At first glance, she possessed the mature grace of a woman in her thirties, but a second look suggested the youthful vitality of a maiden in her twenties. She was dignified, quiet, and utterly captivating—Su Qianyi’s wife, Lin Ziyun.

Lin Ziyun was no ordinary Cultivator. She had originally been a disciple of the Luoshu Mansion, a prestigious immortal sect, and was a Junior Sister to its current Mansion Master. She had played a pivotal role in Su Qianyi’s ascension to the position of Hall Master.

More importantly, she was a powerhouse at the Dongxu realm.

It was entirely due to her strength and influence that Su Qianyi could sit firmly as Hall Master despite Wuya Hall’s waning power. It was no exaggeration to say that without her, there would be no Su Qianyi today.

Currently, Lin Ziyun held a little girl in her lap. She appeared to be about ten years old, roughly the same age as Xiao Yifeng.

The girl’s features were as picturesque as a painting. Her bright, watery eyes darted around with lively intelligence, evoking instant affection from anyone who looked at her. She had inherited Lin Ziyun’s stunning genetics; even at such a tender age, one could tell she would grow up to be a world-toppling beauty, a woman capable of bringing cities and nations to their knees.

This was Su Miaoqing, the treasured jewel of Su Qianyi and Lin Ziyun.

She cradled a snow-white cat in her arms. The beast was fluffy, fat, and possessed extremely long fur—a perfect, pampered match for its owner. At that moment, Su Miaoqing was staring with unblinkered curiosity at the stranger standing in the hall.

Below the dais, disciples stood in orderly rows on either side.

Over ten of them wore light blue robes—these were Su Qianyi’s True Disciples. Behind them stood the ordinary disciples and the Second-Generation Disciples, dressed in robes of various other colors. All told, there were no fewer than two hundred Cultivators present. The lowly menial disciples, however, were not permitted inside and waited outside the gates.

Tall, short, stout, and thin—hundreds of gazes locked onto Xiao Yifeng.

Looking at Su Qianyi’s family and the familiar faces of his Senior Brothers and Sisters, Xiao Yifeng felt a sudden heat behind his eyes.

In his previous life, he had struggled for over 20 years just to stand in this spot and call them his fellow disciples.

In this life... I’ve hugged a golden thigh and eaten 'spoiled soft rice' just to get here so early, he thought with a trace of self-mockery. I just don't know if I can smoothly enter Su Qianyi’s door.

In his past life, his time with these martial siblings had been short, but harmonious. Yet, those good days had been fleeting—barely thirty years.

Memories flooded back: his Master perishing under mysterious circumstances, the false accusations branding him a master-killer, his inability to even attend his Master’s funeral, and his desperate flight from the sect while bearing a lifetime of infamy. It was the eternal regret of his heart.

After his Master’s death, his Master’s Wife and Senior Sister couldn't hold the fort alone. Wuya Hall had disintegrated, its legacy usurped by vultures nesting in the dove’s home.

Xiao Yifeng clenched his fists inside his sleeves. Since the Heavens have given me a Fated Chance to return to Wuya Hall, I will not let the tragedies of the past repeat themselves.

"Master, Master’s Wife," Xiang Tiange said respectfully, breaking Xiao Yifeng's reverie. "This disciple has brought Junior Brother Xiao."

Su Qianyi snorted, his expression impatient.

Lin Ziyun, however, had already heard the story from her husband. She knew the boy had been forced up the mountain by circumstances, so she studied him with a softer gaze. Seeing his delicate features and the tears glistening in his eyes, she assumed he was mourning his tragic past.

Her heart trembled. An inexplicable pang of pity struck her, and for a moment, the boy’s image overlapped with a shadow buried deep in her memories.

Lin Ziyun sighed inwardly. She turned to her husband and spoke in a gentle voice. "Qianyi, look. Our Wuya Hall hasn't taken in new blood for many years. As Senior Brother Guangling said, this child has a destiny with us."

She paused, glancing down at her daughter. "Besides, isn't Qing’er lonely? She lacks a playmate. They are about the same age; they should get along well. Why not accept him as your disciple? He can be a companion for Qing’er. If you’re too busy, I will teach him personally."

The little girl, Su Miaoqing, looked up at the potential Junior Brother.

She was the little princess of the hall, but her position was lonely. Since Wuya Hall hadn't recruited in years, all the other disciples were adults. She had always felt a disconnect, unable to find common ground with them.

Hearing her mother’s words, Su Miaoqing hopped down from Lin Ziyun’s lap. She ran over to Su Qianyi, clapping her hands in excitement. "Good! Good! Daddy, am I finally going to have a little Junior Brother?"

Su Qianyi might have had a fiery temper with the world, but he was putty in the hands of his wife—and doubly so for his daughter.

He gently patted Su Miaoqing’s head and pulled her into a hug, his voice softening dramatically. "Does Qing’er want a Junior Brother?"

Su Miaoqing’s round eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously, like a chick pecking at rice. "Of course! Mommy said this morning you went to find a little Junior Brother or Junior Sister for me. Didn't you?"

Su Qianyi hesitated. He looked at the boy he had planned to reject, then at his daughter's hopeful face. He couldn't bear to spoil her mood.

"Yes, yes, yes," he said helplessly. "Daddy listens to you."

Fate was a strange thing.

Originally, Xiao Yifeng had zero chance of becoming a True Disciple. Given Su Qianyi’s stubborn personality, he would have likely dumped the boy into the general pool as a Second-Generation Disciple—a student of a student.

But thanks to the divine assistance of Lin Ziyun and Su Miaoqing, this lucky fellow had ascended to the heavens in a single step.

Even Xiang Tiange was stunned. He had been mentally preparing to take Xiao Yifeng as his own student if the Master refused. He couldn't help but sigh; this little Junior Brother was truly blessed with immense fortune.

Lin Ziyun smiled, shot a knowing glance at Su Qianyi, and said no more.

Su Qianyi looked down at Xiao Yifeng, his tone still carrying a trace of gruff impatience. "Fine. There’s no time like the present. Since everyone is gathered, perform the bowing ceremony right now!"

Xiao Yifeng was dumbfounded.

What?

He had already prepared himself to be a Second-Generation Disciple. How did happiness strike so suddenly? How did he just jump the queue to become a True Disciple?

Despite the shock, his past life’s instincts kicked in. He didn't need a reminder.

He dropped to his knees heavily.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

He knocked his head against the stone floor nine times—loud, solid impacts that echoed in the hall. He remained prostrated, his forehead pressing against the cold stone.

"Disciple Xiao Yifeng pays respects to Master and Master’s Wife! Greetings to all Senior Brothers and Senior Sisters!"

"Yay! Great!" Su Miaoqing laughed, her voice ringing like a silver bell. "I'm finally not the youngest! I have a little Junior Brother too!"

"Alright, that’s enough." Having been strong-armed into accepting a disciple he didn't want, Su Qianyi was in a foul mood. He waved his hand dismissively. "Tiange, you take him for now. Teach him the sect rules and the Novice cultivation methods."

"Yes, Master," Xiang Tiange responded. He paused, looking hesitant. "But Master... Junior Brother is still young. The workload and curriculum for a True Disciple..."

Su Qianyi rolled his eyes. "Did you not hear your Master’s Wife? He will attend classes with Qing’er! He doesn't need to follow the routine of the other disciples."

With that, the Hall Master stood up and stalked toward the rear courtyard without a backward glance.

The disciples bowed in unison. "We respectfully send off Master!"

The moment Su Qianyi vanished, and before anyone could speak, a blur flashed through the air.

The little girl, Su Miaoqing, appeared instantly in front of Xiao Yifeng.

She was ten years old, yet she moved with the speed of a Cultivator at the fifth level of Qi Refining. It was a terrifying talent that explained why Su Qianyi and his wife treated her like a rare treasure.

Su Miaoqing stared at him, examining her new toy carefully.

Xiao Yifeng watched her cute, hibiscus-like face swaying before his eyes. For a moment, reality blurred, and he felt dazed, unable to distinguish whether he was in the waking world or a dream.