Chapter Sixty-three: Old Wang Arrives
Dong!
Just as Wang Changsheng was bantering with the Corpse Refining Sect disciples, a sudden bell toll echoed in his ears.
“Huh? Where’s that bell coming from?” Wang Changsheng’s face filled with confusion.
The bell was deafeningly loud; by Wang Changsheng’s estimation, such a resounding peal must be audible throughout the entire Corpse Refining Sect.
“That’s the Great Bell of the Corpse Refining Sect. It hasn’t rung in years!”
“Yeah, the last time it tolled three times, an elder was killed by Old Mou!”
“I wonder how many times it’ll ring this time. But nothing major seems to have happened lately.”
...
A look of perplexity crossed the faces of the disciples as well.
Wang Changsheng had never experienced this situation before, but the disciples certainly had. The Great Bell only sounded when something significant occurred, yet as far as anyone knew, there had been no recent emergencies. The only thing that could have possibly affected the whole sect was Wang Changsheng’s recent appointment as a steward—and that was almost two months ago.
Dong!
As everyone was still puzzled, the bell tolled a second time.
“That’s two! If it rings again, it means a full sect assembly!”
“Surely it won’t ring three times… has another elder died?!”
“That can’t be. Old Mou wouldn’t have chased Elder Zhang to death, would he?!”
“So that means another senior brother might get promoted?”
...
“Nonsense!” Wang Changsheng interjected at once. “You lot used to be so lifeless, when did your imaginations get so wild?”
The others might not know, but Wang Changsheng was certain: Old Mou hadn’t gone after Elder Zhang. That old man could hardly remember anything—let alone the fact that he’d destroyed Elder Zhang’s corpse and coffin. If you asked Old Mou now, he probably wouldn’t even remember who Elder Zhang was!
How could they heap such blame on Old Mou? Was he really that bloodthirsty?
Dong!
Another bell sounded.
Three times!
When the Great Bell of the Corpse Refining Sect tolls three times, it means something that affects the entire sect has occurred.
“Let’s go! To the summit—we must have a major event on our hands!”
“Hurry, together now!”
“Old Wang, come on! You’re a steward, you have to attend!”
Disciples who knew Wang Changsheng wasn’t well-versed in the sect’s customs even took the trouble to remind him.
“Ah? I need to go too? You must be joking…”
Wang Changsheng looked distinctly unwilling.
No matter what major event might have occurred, the thought of attending such a gathering filled Wang Changsheng with reluctance. The main reason was that his cultivation was too low; whatever happened, it surely had nothing to do with him. Besides, as the saying goes, ‘When immortals clash, mortals suffer.’
“I’d rather not go…” Wang Changsheng muttered.
“Old Wang, why are you still standing here? Didn’t you hear the bell? Move it!”
At that moment, a voice drifted to his ears—it was Little Grey.
Little Grey seemed to have just returned from outside the sect, empty-handed as usual, which meant he’d found nothing.
“Little Grey, wait a second!” Wang Changsheng called out.
“What is it?!” Little Grey stopped at once.
Dong!
Still puzzled, Little Grey’s face changed when he heard the bell ring again. “That’s four! Old Wang, I’m not waiting for you. I’m heading to the summit—hurry up, I’ll wait for you up there! If you don’t go, you’ll probably lose your steward position!”
And with that, Little Grey vanished, leaving only an echo for Wang Changsheng.
“…What?”
Wang Changsheng had meant to ask Little Grey how to break through to the Core Transformation stage, but upon hearing the fourth toll, Little Grey didn’t hesitate—he immediately rushed for the summit, even going out of his way to warn Wang Changsheng.
“Lose my steward position?” Wang Changsheng’s expression shifted.
Not that he cared much about the position. As long as Old Mou remained in the sect, whether or not he was a steward made no difference to him. But without the steward role, his movements would be restricted to within the Corpse Refining Sect. They’d never let such an unstable element roam free! If Wang Changsheng let slip anything untoward, the sect would be in trouble.
So, Wang Changsheng made for the summit as well.
The other disciples soared into the sky, while Wang Changsheng could only hurry on foot. Only those at the Core Transformation stage could use true essence to fly, and even then, their reserves weren’t deep enough for long-distance flight.
“Honestly, these people… in their rush, not one thought to bring me along!” Wang Changsheng grumbled as he went.
Dong!
The bell rang again. The closer he got to the summit, the more the sound seemed to pierce his very soul. Wang Changsheng felt his whole body trembling.
Dong!
The bell sounded more urgently now.
“That’s six! Don’t tell me… the sect master’s dead?” Wang Changsheng muttered under his breath.
For a mere elder’s passing, the bell was tolled only three times. More than three, and it meant a cataclysm for the sect. Now it had rung six times—Wang Changsheng felt things were getting out of hand.
Still, he wasn’t worried. Whatever happened, it had nothing to do with him.
Dong!
Seven times!
Only after seven tolls did the bell finally fall silent. Wang Changsheng pushed his speed to its limits, but he was still only halfway up the mountain.
“If I’d known, I’d have had Little Grey take me along.”
He gazed at the distant summit, a look of resignation on his face.
Last time, Elder Zhang had carried him up, so he hadn’t had to exert himself at all. Going down was all laughter and games with the disciples, so he hadn’t felt tired.
Now, even at the ninth layer of Vein Opening, Wang Changsheng was panting for breath climbing this colossal mountain.
“I must break through to Core Transformation soon—then I can fly!”
“What? Is it true?”
“Is this real… does that mean I…”
“Look, that woman over there…”
...
He hadn’t yet reached the summit, but fragments of conversation drifted to his ears—some disciples seemed to have heard explosive news and couldn’t help but shout. If his hearing weren’t so keen, Wang Changsheng would have caught nothing at all.
He couldn’t make out everything, but it was clear something fortunate had happened.
“Damn, I have to hurry or I’ll miss it!” Wang Changsheng gulped in air and charged toward the summit.
At last, he glimpsed the summit’s edge and nearly wanted to cry—it felt like a never-ending climb.
“Where’s Wang Changsheng?”
“Why isn’t Wang Changsheng here yet?!”
“Wang Changsheng, step forward!”
...
The moment Wang Changsheng set foot on the summit, barely catching his breath, he was greeted by a chorus of shouts.
“What?” he muttered, bewildered.
Still dazed, Wang Changsheng stood at the back of the crowd, gazing up at the elders atop the platform, a look of confusion on his face.
Sure enough, the one shouting his name from the high platform was an elder of the Corpse Refining Sect, wrapped head to toe in black robes, face obscured. Wang Changsheng couldn’t tell which elder it was, but anyone standing there had to be one.
He was baffled. He’d only just arrived—why was his name being called?
If something good was happening, surely it couldn’t be for him?
“I’m here!” he shouted. “I’m here!”
But the other disciples, for reasons unknown, had become so excited that his voice was immediately swallowed by their uproar. His shouts were drowned in a wave of wild celebration.
“Old Wang, old Wang… you don’t know… we… we’re allowed to leave the sect and venture out now!”
A disciple rushed up, grabbed Wang Changsheng, and spun him around.
The unique smell of the Corpse Refining Sect disciples nearly made Wang Changsheng vomit. After his mad dash uphill, he was already a bit nauseous; now, with that scent enveloping him, he was utterly disoriented.
Worst of all, he hardly knew this disciple hugging him.
“Huh?!”
After twirling Wang Changsheng for a while, the disciple finally realized, “Wait, aren’t you Old Wang? The elder’s looking for you!”
“I know,” Wang Changsheng replied through gritted teeth.
“Then hurry! You’ve been missing—looks like the elder was getting angry just now!” the disciple urged.
“I know!” Wang Changsheng repeated, his face dark.
“Go on, quick! It’s a good thing!” the disciple insisted.
Wang Changsheng smacked his own face in exasperation, then roared at the disciple still gripping him, “If you don’t let go, the elder could call for a hundred years and I’d never get there!”
He was at his wit’s end. These disciples—calling them simple-minded was almost a compliment.
Each one was as dense as a block of wood!
Held in that unyielding grip, his voice swallowed in the frenzy—how was he supposed to get through?
“Uh…”
The disciple realized his mistake and, embarrassed, looked as though he wanted to crawl into his own coffin.
“Misunderstanding… just a misunderstanding…”
Flustered, the disciple finally released Wang Changsheng and shouted ahead, “Move aside! Make way! Old Wang is coming!”
With a dark expression, Wang Changsheng followed behind, his despair growing.
“What kind of people are these…” he thought, on the verge of tears. “None of them seem quite normal…”