Chapter 182 — The Weakest Sect

CHAPTER 182

The Weakest Sect

“Artificer Hall,” Shi Feng said.

For one breath, the recruitment courtyard made no sound at all.

Then He Zhen dropped his brush.

The wooden handle struck the stone beside his shoe. He looked down at it as though the brush might explain what he just heard.

Wei Chengyuan's smile froze.

Mu Shuyun raised one eyebrow and turned toward the champion more carefully.

“Artificer Hall,” Lu Yong repeated. “That is your choice?”

“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.

The stands beyond the courtyard rail erupted.

“The weakest of the three!”

“After Martial Palace offered all that?”

“His wife is in the Valley!”

“Did he hear the wrong offer?”

Shi Feng heard them clearly. None had read his mind better than the man who made the decision.

He didn't need to correct each guess.

Lu Yong waited until the crowd quieted enough for the record to be heard.

“Champion Shi Feng chooses direct inner-disciple entry to Artificer Hall,” Lu Yong declared. “Let the agreement be witnessed and entered.”

An attendant unrolled the formal paper.

He Zhen finally bent to pick up the brush.

Wei Chengyuan stepped closer before the signing began.

“You understand the difference in support?” Wei Chengyuan asked.

“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.

“Three thousand spirit stones. A sword instructor. A proper refined artifact to replace what broke,” Wei Chengyuan said.

“I heard the offer,” Shi Feng answered.

The delegate's expression darkened. His late Golden Core presence made nearby attendants draw back, but Lu Yong remained beside the document without moving.

The champion's choice wasn't a favour Martial Palace could withdraw because it disliked the answer.

“Then explain it,” Wei Chengyuan said.

“I chose Artificer Hall,” Shi Feng replied. “Not your approval.”

A sharp silence followed.

Duan Yichen, standing among the other recruits, pressed his lips together to stop a badly timed smile. Sima Lan looked from the champion to the delegate and understood how much face the latter just lost.

Every expensive promise was heard in public.

So was the refusal.

Mu Shuyun spoke before Wei Chengyuan's temper made the event uglier.

“The champion earned the right to choose,” Mu Shuyun said. “He has chosen.”

Lu Yong nodded and pointed toward the paper.

“Proceed,” Lu Yong said.

Wei Chengyuan stepped back. His expression became controlled again, which didn't make it friendly.

Shi Feng signed without shaking the brush.

He Zhen inspected the finished signature, then looked at Shi Feng.

“I wasn't expecting this,” He Zhen admitted.

“You offered,” Shi Feng replied.

“Yes,” He Zhen said. “Offering and believing are different things.”

The champion almost laughed. The delegate sounded too relieved to hide the truth elegantly.

He Zhen took out the preliminary inner-disciple token and checked its seal before handing it over. The final registration would be completed at the Hall itself, but the right was settled here.

Shi Feng accepted it.

The token was ordinary-looking. No light split the sky when he held it. It still represented a step he'd worked toward from the day he learnt Foundation Establishment was required to enter a kingdom's qualification.

He was satisfied.

Lu Yong checked the final entry and paused at the cultivation line.

“Late Foundation Establishment now?” Lu Yong asked.

“Since last night,” Shi Feng replied.

The official wrote the date beside the change. Several people nearby immediately began arguing over whether the final should be described differently.

Lu Yong looked up.

“He won at mid Foundation Establishment,” Lu Yong said. “The record is clear. Today's advance doesn't change yesterday's match.”

The argument stopped.

Shi Feng appreciated that more than another speech about his future. The public didn't need his deepest secrets, but what it did receive should at least be correct.

He Zhen copied the updated cultivation into the Hall's preliminary record. His hand shook less now that the choice was signed. The champion wasn't going to vanish because the delegate finally remembered to breathe.

Mu Shuyun watched the extra line being entered and smiled slightly. Great Liang's supposed cripple had given the tournament officials plenty of new writing.

Sima Lan watched the token from behind the waiting line. She hadn't heard the remaining recruitment offers yet. The Hall's decision about her would be its own, not a reward automatically attached to Shi Feng's choice.

Gongsun Ce looked at He Zhen's brush case and smiled faintly.

“Pick up the cap too,” Gongsun Ce said.

He Zhen looked down. The little cap had rolled beneath the chair.

The prince retrieved it before the delegate could decide whether to laugh at himself.

Outside the courtyard, the gossip changed faster than the attendants could clear a passage.

Some insisted Shi Feng must've received a secret promise. Others claimed he'd fallen out with his wife and chosen the third sect to avoid seeing her.

He heard that version and felt a brief, cold annoyance.

Ling Qingzhu didn't choose his path for him while they lived together. Their separation didn't choose it for him now.

She had her own teacher and her own reasons.

So did he.

Duan Yichen caught up near the gate.

“You really chose them,” Duan Yichen said.

“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.

“Good,” Duan Yichen said. “I would've had to hear you complain about Martial Palace's invitations every morning.”

“You might still hear it,” Shi Feng replied.

The sabre user laughed, then became serious.

“I'll come find you when the training permits,” Duan Yichen said.

“Bring a better second cut,” Shi Feng replied.

“Bring a whole sword,” Duan Yichen answered.

They exchanged a brief grin. Different sects didn't require turning a useful friendship into another feud.

He Zhen approached with the signed copy and a relieved expression that still hadn't entirely left his face.

“There's time before departure,” He Zhen said. “If you have questions, ask.”

Shi Feng looked toward the old token at his waist and the new one in his hand.

“There are a few,” Shi Feng replied.

He Zhen nodded and led him toward a quieter table. Behind them, Wei Chengyuan's attendants were already telling people that Martial Palace never forced a candidate who failed to appreciate its offer.

Nobody seemed entirely convinced.