Chapter 667: Lord Changqing

On the outskirts of Qianmu Temple’s plaza.

Atop a colossal mountain, its cliffs shielding it from the outside world, Leng Kezhen—who was in charge of Qianmu Temple’s internal security for this period—gazed toward the plaza, lost in a rare daze.

The plaza was vast, but only a select few were currently allowed inside. The Sect Leaders and disciples of most other sects waited respectfully on the outskirts, anticipating the moment when today’s main figure would formally take control of the Southern Cultivation Realm. Then, they would be able to enter the plaza and pay their respects.

When Wang Ping’s voice echoed throughout Qianmu Temple, inside and out, Leng Kezhen couldn’t help but pull back her gaze, lowering her head to listen intently.

At that moment, Qianmu Temple fell utterly silent, with only the reverberation of Wang Ping’s chanted prayer.

A quarter of an hour later, absolute silence descended upon Qianmu Temple. Even the sound of Wang Ping’s chanting had vanished, yet no one dared to make a move.

The somber atmosphere lasted for over ten breaths. Then, a brilliant beam of light pierced through the clouds, penetrated the barriers and Array around Qianmu Temple, and descended above the altar. A figure then materialized, dressed in a wide-sleeved Blue Daoist Robe, wearing a White Jade Crown, and holding a Duster.

It was True Monarch Yuan Wu himself. He hovered above the altar, his gaze first sweeping over the surroundings. At that moment, everyone could feel his presence, yet no one dared to look up and meet his eyes, not even Wang Ping and Ao Hong at the very front.

He gently stroked his long, black beard, flicked the Duster in his arm, and fixed his gaze on Wang Ping. “Today, Changqing, a Cultivator of Qianmu Temple, has achieved fruition after more than five hundred years of cultivation,” he declared. “By special decree, he is granted the title of Lord, to share in the mortal world’s incense offerings with the gods of heaven and earth!”

It was a simple sentence, but the weight it carried was anything but.

After bestowing the title upon Wang Ping, True Monarch Yuan Wu did not leave immediately. He looked around and said, “Will you not pay homage to the new Lord?”

At the very front, Ruan Chunzi immediately bowed and proclaimed, “We pay our respects to True Monarch Yuan Wu! We pay our respects to Lord Changqing! Greetings to the Seventh Prince!”

Immediately, all the Third Seats in the plaza repeated Ruan Chunzi’s words: “We pay our respects to True Monarch Yuan Wu! We pay our respects to Lord Changqing! Greetings to the Seventh Prince!”

Next were all the Cultivators who had come to observe the ceremony, gathered around the plaza. Some even performed a full kowtow, repeating the words that echoed in their ears.

Amid their cries, True Monarch Yuan Wu had already vanished.

At that moment, a Ceremonial Officer from the Daoist Palace carefully approached the front of the altar and whispered a few words in Shen Xiaozhu’s ear. Afterward, Shen Xiaozhu ascended the altar, cupped his fist to Wang Ping, and said, “Master, according to the ceremony’s procedure, it is now time for you to receive the obeisance of the various Sect Leaders and Cultivators.”

“Very well.”

As soon as Wang Ping agreed, Shen Xiaozhu descended the altar. He then exchanged a few quiet words with Liu Shuang below before walking toward the edge of the plaza, under the watchful eyes of the hundred or so Daoist Palace Third Seats nearby.

At the eastern entrance to the plaza, Shen Xiaozhu came to a stop. He took a roster from a nearby Ceremonial Officer of the Daoist Palace and intoned, “The great sacrificial ceremony is complete. Let the Sect Leaders of all sects come forward to pay homage to the new Lord…”

After a lengthy preamble, Shen Xiaozhu called out from the roster, “The Six Heart Sect, Sanhe Temple, the Pingdong Sect…”

The sects that were called immediately sent forth at least two people. The representatives for the Six Heart Sect were Hongyuan and Tong Jing. For Sanhe Temple, they were Guangxuan’s two disciples, Lin Chen and Huimin, as Guangxuan himself was in Death Seclusion. The Pingdong Sect was represented by Wenhai and Li Pei, the Direct Disciple of Li Lin.

As Wenhai listened to the names of sect after sect being called, the feel of the steps beneath his feet and the cool breeze on his face as he ascended to the plaza entrance told him this was all real. In that moment, he felt nothing but immense relief and gratitude.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he was lost in his thoughts when a sharp command suddenly rang out: “Halt!”

He stopped instinctively, the scattered thoughts in his mind instantly dissipating. Only then did he realize that several hundred people were now lined up behind him, and among them, he seemed utterly insignificant.

While he was still stunned, someone strode over from his left. It was a Cultivator in the deep Blue Daoist Robe of the Daoist Palace, who repeated as he walked, “Everyone, stand properly! Remember the process for paying respects that you rehearsed yesterday!”

On the south side of the plaza, over a hundred painters were capturing the moment. A giant scroll, about thirty feet long, was rapidly taking shape, documenting the most glorious moment of the ceremony.

Above the altar, Ao Hong looked down at the dense crowd of Cultivators—the weakest among them a Second Realm Cultivator—and grinned at Wang Ping. “One day, after I drive out my Third Brother, I’m going to ask the Dragon Monarch for a Lord’s title, too. I’ll hold a grand ceremony just like this one.”

Wang Ping maintained his smile and didn’t engage in idle chatter with Ao Hong. At that moment, many of the Third Seats below were discreetly sizing him up. Most of them were from the north and had no significant conflicts of interest with Wang Ping, so they were far less reserved.

Yu Lian met the gaze of everyone who tried to scrutinize Wang Ping. Perhaps sensing the ferocity in her eyes, nearly all who met her stare would unconsciously lower their heads.

“I say, Fellow Daoist, there’s no need to be so serious. These people are just…”

“Fellow Daoist, some things can be done, but not said aloud. Don’t you understand even a simple principle like that?”

Wang Ping used his Wood Spirit to block their conversation from being overheard and even distorted the movements of their lips as they spoke.

After hearing this, Ao Hong thought for a moment and said, “Someone warned me about that before, but I never paid it any mind. I am the son of the Dragon Monarch, a Fourth Realm cultivator. Even if I provoked that True Monarch Yuan Wu from just now, he wouldn’t dare touch me!”

Wang Ping found talking to the Dragon Monarch’s Seventh Prince truly exhausting. ‘But perhaps it’s precisely this kind of personality that allowed him to advance to the Fourth Realm,’ he thought. He considered this for a moment and then said, “If you want to defeat the Third Prince, you must learn these things.”

Hearing this, Ao Hong fell into deep thought.

At that moment, all the sect representatives who had come for the ceremony were standing in their rehearsed positions. Led by several Ceremonial Officers, they shouted in unison, “We pay our respects to Lord Changqing! May the Lord have eternal peace!”

They were all performing the disciple’s rite, for from this moment on, Wang Ping was the grandmaster of the entire Southern Cultivation Realm.

“The Dao gives life, Virtue nurtures. Matter gives form, circumstance completes. Thus, all things revere the Dao and honor Virtue… This reverence is not commanded, but arises naturally… So the Dao gives life, and Virtue nurtures, rears, shelters, and protects… To create but not possess, to act but not to claim, to lead but not to rule. This is profound Virtue.”

After instructing the crowd with the words of a Saint from his past life, Wang Ping added a final admonition, “Your path of cultivation is not easy. Guard against arrogance and impatience, and never violate the order of the Daoist Palace.”

With that, he turned to Ao Hong beside him and suggested, “Shall we continue our game?”

Ao Hong, rousing from his deep thought, nodded instinctively.

Then, the two of them vanished into thin air.

When they reappeared, they were in a pavilion at the edge of a mountaintop garden. In the center of the pavilion was a chessboard with an unfinished game upon it.

Ao Hong picked up a wine cup from beside the board, drained its fine wine, and returned to their previous topic. “You were right. That Third Brother of mine is too good at winning people over. It’s why I can never seem to suppress his influence. From now on, I need to change my strategy.”

Wang Ping sat on the left side of the chessboard and took out his Two-Seat Communication Token. From the moment he had officially accepted the title of Lord, the Token had been constantly transmitting waves of energy into his Primordial Spirit Consciousness.

They were congratulatory messages from the other Second Seats. Rongyang Monarch was the first to send his congratulations, and he also mentioned that there would be a regular Second Seat meeting tonight at 9:15 PM.