Ye Wen reassumed the position of the Mount Shu Sect Leader with virtually no suspense; none of the disciples below dared to voice any objection.

Following this, all Ye Wen needed to do was crush a jade talisman in his hand, then dismiss everyone to rest, waiting until Ning Ruxue, Xu Xian, and the large contingent of others returned before addressing official matters.

The jade he crushed was a communication talisman meant for Ning Ruxue and the others. Once crushed on his end, those holding the corresponding talisman would know he had returned from the Cauldron and would drop whatever they were doing to rush back to Mount Shu.

However, Ye Wen had no idea how far these individuals had traveled, nor could he keep the assembled Mount Shu disciples waiting idly. Thus, he let the crowd disperse to attend to their own matters, retaining only a select few important figures to confer with them and ascertain the current state of the Mount Shu Sect.

Seated there, Ye Wen swept his gaze across the hall, noting that the disciples remaining were fundamentally his direct descendants! Aside from Zhou Zhiruo and a few others, there were several younger disciples Ye Wen was unfamiliar with. Still, he resolved to commit their appearances and names to memory, as he would need to understand these disciples’ dispositions and aptitudes in the days to come.

Looking around once more, Ye Wen first addressed Nangong Huang: “Begin by telling me if there have been any changes in the internal structure and official positions within our Mount Shu Sect.”

Among the younger generation present, although Zhou Zhiruo had presided over Mount Shu for many years, her judgment was less thorough than Nangong Huang’s; Guo Jing was too honest, sometimes failing to grasp subtly implied meanings, often answering only what was directly asked.

Hence, Ye Wen had no choice but to consult his martial nephew, Nangong Huang, whose quick wit meant that with just a small opening remark from Ye Wen, he could grasp the entirety of his meaning and relay exactly what Ye Wen wished to know.

“Currently, Mount Shu has the Ironware Pavilion. Besides exclusively forging weapons for our sect disciples, it also takes on many apprentices. Most of these apprentices, upon completion of their training, descend the mountain to open their own blacksmith shops, making a living by crafting and repairing farm implements. A small minority remain on the mountain to continue serving the Mount Shu disciples.”

The Ironware Pavilion was established in its early days solely to guarantee the provision of swords for Mount Shu disciples. But circumstances had drastically changed; those common iron swords were long inadequate for the Mount Shu Sect, which intended to establish itself in the Immortal Realm. Ye Wen knew clearly that without securing talent skilled in refining magic artifacts, the Mount Shu Sect would be inherently disadvantaged in terms of weaponry.

Even if he wished to purchase magic artifacts from outsiders, he would need to know which families specialized in that trade. Unfortunately, since arriving here, he had dedicated himself to quiet cultivation, followed by immediately attending to Mount Shu’s affairs, leaving him completely unaware of such matters. Now, he could only hope that Xu Xian and the others would manage to investigate and gather some useful intelligence.

“If Junior Brother Xu can deploy his peerless protagonist halo to find me an elderly master skilled in artifact refinement, that would be absolutely perfect!”

Yet, he understood internally that this hope was too extravagant. If Xu Xian truly managed to locate such a person, it could only be treated as an unexpected bonus, not a hope to rely upon. The key issue remained how he and the others would resolve this problem themselves.

“What a pity! This isn't something easily solved…” Shaking his head helplessly, he merely said, “Tell the Ironware Pavilion to temporarily stop forging weaponry. I assume all disciples already possess their own sidearms; forging more would just be a waste!” Nangong Huang asked no further, but Guo Jing chimed in, “Shouldn't we store some extra weapons as reserves?” It was Wei Hong, standing nearby, who explained to his Fifth Senior Brother: “Presumably, in this Immortal Realm, mortal weapons are of little use, which is why Master instructed the Ironware Pavilion to cease forging them, lest they waste time and energy!”

“Oh!”

Not everyone in the hall could immediately grasp this connection, and Wei Hong’s explanation made the implication clear to all. The realization that their own sidearms might become a weakness caused many to frown, worrying slightly about their future life in the Immortal Realm.

Seeing this, Ye Wen knew that if he didn’t offer some words of encouragement, the disciples might lose confidence and, consequently, their motivation to strive. If that happened, wouldn’t bringing this group up here have been utterly pointless?

“Do not be disheartened. Even without weapons, what of it? In the decades I spent without any particular weapon, didn't I still manage to reach this Immortal Realm relying solely on the Purple Cloud Sword condensed from my own zhenqi?!”

Hearing this, the disciples simultaneously turned their gaze toward their Master (or Grandmaster). Their expressions held relief, curiosity, and a touch of bewilderment.

Seeing their reaction, Ye Wen felt obliged to explain: “When I shattered the void back then, I did not arrive directly in this Immortal Realm, but in another world entirely! That world also contained countless ordinary people; in terms of sheer strength, they might not even match one of our common farmers!”

This was the first time the disciples had heard Ye Wen speak of these matters, and their eyes filled with anticipation as they stood silently, listening.

“And in that world, a small number of individuals, in pursuit of eternal life, embarked upon the path of seeking immortality! These people could be called cultivators, or perhaps Xiu Zhen Zhe (True Cultivators). Initially, they were no different from ordinary people, but as they cultivated over time, they would acquire immense power. Once they crossed several thresholds, they would ascend in broad daylight to the Sword Immortal Realm, becoming members of the Immortals…”

At this point, the disciples looked somewhat confused, failing to grasp the relevance of Ye Wen’s words. Wei Hong ventured: “Master, could it be that you obtained some miraculous cultivation technique, and thus…”

Hearing this, the eyes of the crowd lit up. If Ye Wen possessed a profound and mysterious cultivation method or spell he could impart, they would not be entirely without means of self-preservation.

Ye Wen merely smiled and replied, “Yes and no!” This ambiguous answer completely baffled everyone. Ye Wen then stood up, hands clasped behind his back, assuming an exceptionally imposing posture: “After arriving in that cultivation world, I discovered that there were many methods of cultivation. One lineage is called Martial Cultivation (Wuxiu), and that so-called martial pursuit… refers to us martial artists!”

At this declaration, the slightly sharper minds in the hall immediately understood, their eyes brightening, and they became even more expectant of what he would say next.

Ye Wen glanced around, roughly gauging which individuals in the hall possessed flexible minds: Nangong Huang, for instance, already sported a faint smile, suggesting he had grasped the core concept. Zhou Zhiruo’s expression was blank, but a sharp light flickered in her eyes, indicating she had likely also figured it out. The Fifth Disciple, Guo Jing, still wore the expression of a curious novice. Despite his advanced age and accumulated experience, he remained inept at these subtle, winding matters, still waiting for Ye Wen to reveal the answer. Wei Hong, however, had his brow furrow between furrowing and relaxing—with his intelligence, he shouldn't have taken so long to understand. The only explanation was that too many distractions occupied his mind, perhaps pondering something irrelevant.

Looking further down, Liu Mengli’s eyes held a slight confusion, yet within that confusion was a gleam of insight—suggesting that her relative inexperience and limited knowledge prevented her from grasping it instantly, though she had generally guessed something.

Beyond them, others in the hall, like Zhou Guan… he was purely listening to a story, making no effort to think! The old eunuch stood quietly behind Wei Hong, head bowed, showing no discernible expression, likely a habit honed by years in the palace.

Li Xuan, seated to the side, kept his head down, watching an incessantly swirling speck of ice crystal that danced at his fingertip like a tiny fish. He remained silent, showing neither joy nor sorrow, nor any sign of anticipation. In contrast, the two Tianshan disciples attending him stared wide-eyed at Ye Wen.

Furthermore, there were several other Mount Shu disciples present, including one who originally belonged to the Jade Cave Sect but defected to Mount Shu and was taken under Nangong Huang’s wing and cared for as his own disciple. This individual was also in the hall, frowning in contemplation.

Apart from these, one figure captured Ye Wen’s attention: a middle-aged man, tall and striking, the picture of a handsome man past his prime. The only unusual feature was his eyebrows, which seemed somewhat long. This man wore a Daoist robe and stood calmly, radiating a faint air of detachment that momentarily surprised Ye Wen.

Finally, Ye Wen turned his gaze to Dongfang Kui, standing to the side. This person… kept looking at him, and Ye Wen could not discern what lay in those eyes, which made him slightly hesitant to meet the gaze directly.

These details seemed complex, yet they were merely what Ye Wen perceived in a single sweeping glance. Few people remained in the hall, but not too few; this single look gave him a preliminary understanding of the more capable individuals currently in the Mount Shu Sect. In future guidance, these individuals would certainly receive priority attention.

“After learning about the general situation, I realized that most cultivators, in their quest for longevity, place excessive emphasis on prolonging life and increasing their cultivation levels. They are often not proficient in the techniques of direct combat, relying instead on magic artifacts when facing opponents! For example, spirit swords and similar items!” Regarding magic artifacts, everyone present had some impression. After all, the world within the Nine Cauldrons contained similar legends, and scholars had penned various strange tales and fictional accounts for sale. Moreover, itinerant Daoists often claimed that the items they carried were all manner of magic artifacts or implements.

Thus, no one misunderstood the meaning of a magic artifact; enhanced by Ye Wen’s specific example of a flying sword, everyone immediately formed a tangible impression: it was simply a tool used for killing!

While this assessment might be somewhat extreme, it was fundamentally not incorrect, and Ye Wen saw no need to correct it. After speaking, he continued: “However, the Martial Cultivation lineage is different! Martial cultivators temper their physical bodies; when they reach deep levels, they can even use their bare palms to withstand the magic artifacts of other cultivators… I myself have destroyed countless magic artifacts with these two palms. Therefore, as long as you cultivate diligently, you need not worry excessively about lacking weaponry!”

This statement not only informed them that they could be considered part of the Martial Cultivation lineage but also conveyed the message: “As long as you work hard, you don’t need to obsess over weapons. If all else fails, you still have your fists! And our fists are very tough.”

The disciples felt more reassured after hearing this, though some still felt it might be a disadvantage to fight with bare fists against opponents who could launch magic attacks from a distance.

Ye Wen glared and reprimanded: “Have you forgotten the ultimate technique of our Mount Shu Sect? If you master that, why fear such trifling tricks?”

This sharp rebuke jolted the assembly, and they suddenly remembered that Mount Shu’s signature ultimate skill was Sword Manipulation (Yujian Shu). Although it involved controlling a flying sword condensed from zhenqi, possessing this technique meant they didn't have to fear opponents engaging them from afar.

As if to further boost their confidence, Ye Wen added: “Moreover, Martial Cultivation, when practiced to its peak, is not entirely confined to close-quarters combat. Once one's power becomes immense enough, the force projected outwardly is in no way inferior to the legendary spells.”

As if to prove the persuasiveness of his words, Ye Wen took a step forward, his left palm tracing a slight semi-circle, then his right palm shot out with a swift strike. The disciples watched as a surge of purple energy manifested on Ye Wen’s palm, and a ferocious giant dragon, mouth agape, roared forth from his right hand. The crowd felt an invisible pressure descend upon the entire hall once the dragon shot out. Some weaker disciples involuntarily staggered back several steps, and the area in the direction Ye Wen struck instantly emptied as everyone scrambled to the side.

“Is this… the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms?”

The disciples present were the elite of the current Mount Shu Sect and were naturally familiar with this ultimate technique. Their gazes immediately shifted to Guo Jing, currently the most proficient in this palm style within the sect. They watched Guo Jing gaze up at the palm energy Ye Wen projected, marveling endlessly—he was a true connoisseur and could certainly judge the power of Ye Wen’s strike.

Guo Jing knew he could execute a palm strike like that, but it would certainly lack the solidity of Ye Wen’s projection, and the dragon-shaped energy would never appear as vibrant and lifelike as a true dragon, let alone emit a roaring sound. Furthermore, Ye Wen’s strike sent the dragon-shaped energy flying a great distance without dissipating, something Guo Jing, let alone Li Xuan projecting an icy blast, could not accomplish.

Coincidentally, just then, a streak of crimson sword light suddenly flew in from outside the hall and collided precisely with the dragon projection. Before anyone could react to what was happening, a tremendous BOOM echoed. Energy scattered, and a fierce gale instantly swept through the hall, stinging the faces of the disciples.

Only then did they snap back to reality and turn toward the entrance of the hall, where they saw an exquisitely handsome and beautiful person standing at the threshold, shaking his hands while complaining, “Senior Brother’s welcome is a bit too enthusiastic; this Junior Brother cannot handle it!”

The newcomer was, of course, Xu Xian. Ye Wen had not expected that just as he was demonstrating to the assembly, Xu Xian would arrive precisely at that moment—his junior brother’s speed was indeed phenomenal. He had only vaguely sensed Xu Xian’s return, and suddenly the man was before him. Of course, this was partly because Ye Wen hadn't been fully focused on his surroundings.

Everyone in the hall stood with their mouths agape, many forming perfect 'O' shapes—they had never imagined such a terrifying strike could be intercepted! However, glancing back at Ye Wen, they saw his expression was relaxed, indicating that the strike was merely the product of a casual wave. If a casual move held such might, how terrifying must a full-force strike be?

As they pondered this, two shouts suddenly rang out.

“Martial Uncle!” “Master!” Some disciples, seeing the sudden intrusion, had started to rush toward the hall—even knowing they were useless, at least the posture had to be assumed—but they stopped mid-stride upon hearing Guo Jing and Nangong Huang’s cries.

There was no need for them to charge further; it turned out this beautiful, almost feminine-looking person, who appeared no older than twenty, was also one of their own—in fact, the Master of Nangong Huang, who was already an elder, the Martial Uncle-Grandmaster to Ye Wen!

Xu Xian glanced left and right, recognizing very few people. Of those in the hall, he only identified Dongfang Ying and Zhou Zhiruo. He couldn't tell who the others were.

However, the cries from Nangong Huang and Guo Jing prompted a reaction. He stared blankly at the aged, withered Nangong Huang and asked uncertainly, “Huang’er?”

“Master!” Nangong Huang immediately attempted to kneel before Xu Xian to kowtow, but in his current state, Xu Xian dared not let him kneel, fearing that one bow would leave the disciple unable to rise—Nangong Huang’s current appearance was indeed overly frail.

“How did you age so much?” Xu Xian gently raised a hand, pushing a soft wave of energy that held Nangong Huang up, preventing him from kneeling. To lighten the somber mood, he asked a question that left everyone speechless: “Have you been marrying too many wives and concubines?”

“……”

A wave of silence washed over the assembly. Many younger disciples who had never met Xu Xian stood frozen, thinking to themselves, This Martial Uncle-Grandmaster is quite casual! Ye Wen, however, understood Xu Xian’s intent and beckoned him over: “Come over here. It will allow everyone to get a clear look at you, and you can meet your many juniors in return…”

Xu Xian chuckled, then said to Nangong Huang, “Don’t worry, with Master here, I guarantee you will recover quickly! Feel free to take a few more wives…”

Nangong Huang offered an awkward smile and returned to his spot. At that moment, a streak of indigo light flew in, stopping right beside Xu Xian. Nangong Huang peered at it and asked uncertainly, “Martial Mother?”

His single address startled Huang Rongrong, who had just arrived and was unaware of the situation. She turned to look at Xu Xian, her expression clearly conveying: Who is this old man?

“Martial Mother… I am Huang’er!”

“Ah?” Huang Rongrong exclaimed, “How did you get so old?” She was already petite, and after shattering the void, her appearance had become even younger, resembling a girl of fourteen or fifteen. In her current state, she looked like a mischievous child, yet realizing this young girl was the Martial Mother of Nangong Huang, who appeared nearly ready for his coffin, the crowd found it amusing but, constrained by propriety, dared not laugh, struggling to hold it in.

Ye Wen also found it difficult to contain himself, repeatedly chanting internally, Heart like clear ice, unmoving even if the heavens collapse! Unfortunately, after many repetitions, it was useless. He could only inwardly curse, “Damn it, the imitation failed!”