Zhang Yan said in a deep voice, "Though there are ten elephants today, if we let them continue to reproduce, who can guarantee that tomorrow will remain the same? When the herd grows too large, one day the Spiritual Creek will inevitably be severed. Thus, the elephants cannot be spared. The ten elephants can drive away the giant snake, proving the herd holds an advantage. Losing one elephant won't change the situation. The water flow, originally intermittent, will become smoother with one fewer, the villagers will survive, and yet the giant snake won't emerge to devour people."
This story has no definitive answer. The Daoist Nun remained expressionless and stepped aside to clear the path, saying, "You may proceed."
Zhang Yan cupped his hands in courtesy, flicked the hem of his Daoist robe, crossed the threshold, and strode inside.
Not long after he entered, a young girl slipped out from a side door near the Daoist Nun. It was Zhao Ying, Zhao Yuan's younger sister.
She grabbed the Daoist Nun's arm and shook it, complaining, "Martial Aunt, how could you let that little thief pass so easily? Last time, he made my elder brother cough blood! I haven't even settled that score with him yet!"
The Daoist Nun touched Zhao Ying's head affectionately and said, "Do you know how your father answered this question when he was asked by your Grandmaster back then?"
Zhao Ying's curiosity was piqued. "And how did my father answer?"
"Kill one elephant."
Zhao Ying was stunned. "My father gave the same answer?"
The Daoist Nun continued, "Your Grandmaster was very pleased at the time. Later, I asked your father why he gave that answer. Your father said it was because nine is the ultimate number, and ten is excessive. Excess leads to overflow; less leads to perfection. This is the Heavenly Dao. Thus, one elephant must be killed." She sighed and added, "Zhang Yan's reasoning aligns subtly with the Heavenly Dao. Someone like him will achieve immeasurable success in the future. If we don't get rid of him now, then we cannot afford to offend him lightly. Do you understand?"
Zhao Ying nodded, seemingly half-understanding.
The Daoist Nun gazed intently into the distance, as though lost in deep thought.
In reality, Zhao Ying's father did not say "Kill one elephant" back then but rather "Leave nine elephants." While "one kill" and "one leave" bear no substantial difference, the temperament and character revealed are entirely distinct. From the answer, one can see Zhang Yan's decisiveness and caution. Yet, when he uttered those words, he was brimming with killing intent, and his gaze was sharp and electric, a manner that even made her feel a pang of fear.
Though she lacked her senior brother's mastery in the arts of Daoist logic and numerology, she could discern Zhang Yan bore significant karmic destiny. She sighed, unsure whether someone like him remaining on Cangwu Mountain would be a blessing or a calamity.
After entering the Mountain Gate, Zhang Yan moved swiftly toward the Second Mountain Gate. Little did he know, for the past three days, the Mingcang Sect's entry-level disciples had been blocked by a youth from the Guangyuan Sect on the "Heavenly Gate" pathway, unable to advance to the Third Mountain Gate atop the summit. Yet, knowing they were at fault, they didn't dare resort to force.
Three years ago, during a Dharma Assembly hosted by the Nanhua Sect's Lower Court, a Mingcang Sect entry-level disciple named Chen Feng attended. His younger sister had joined the tutelage of a Nanhua Sect Master ten years prior, but for some unknown reason, she tragically died. The details remain unclear, yet it sparked animosity between the two sects ever since.
During the Dharma Assembly, Chen Feng blocked the "Heavenly Gate" path, adamantly proclaiming he would duel with Nanhua Sect disciples.
Crossing the Mountain Gate inherently involves trials. Those confident in their prowess can intercept any fellow Daoist along the path for a duel and gain fame regardless of victory or defeat. Thus, Nanhua Sect disciples didn't mind.
However, whether interpreting the Erosion Text or competing in combat skills, the Nanhua Sect disciples were consistently defeated by Chen Feng. Initially, he could have stopped at a respectable point without incurring criticism, but he obstinately refused to clear the path, claiming he'd trap all Nanhua Sect disciples until the Dharma Assembly ended.
This provoked outrage, and the Guangyuan Sect, historically allied with the Nanhua Sect, sent a dozen disciples for mediation. Eventually, they resorted to combat. Surprisingly, Chen Feng, despite being alone, could defeat many. Not only did he gain the upper hand, but he also left them battered and bloodied, ultimately declaring that Guangyuan Sect disciples were also barred from passing.
A month later, not a single Nanhua or Guangyuan Sect disciple reached the Third Mountain Gate, leaving their Lower Courts humiliated. Ever since, they've borne grudges. Now that the Mingcang Sect hosts this Dharma Assembly, the two sects are here to regain their honor. Those privy to the backstory pretend ignorance and remain silent.
Three years ago, Chen Feng had returned to the Upper Court after opening his Immortal Veins. Given his current status, he naturally wouldn't revisit this place. Yet, his mischief left adverse consequences for the Lower Court.
In a side hall near the Mountain Gate, over twenty entry-level disciples from the Mingcang Sect's Lower Court had gathered. Since they were all from noble Xuanmen Families, they formed their own cliques and were only known by reputation among Cangwu Mountain disciples.
Sitting at the foremost position was Zheng Xun, the Senior Disciple of De Xiu Temple's Lower Court. Among them, he was the oldest, with the highest cultivation, although he was a gentle individual who disliked conflict.
In the first two days when Mo Yuan blocked the path demanding a duel over the Erosion Text, Zheng Xun didn't give it much thought. Yet now, with no disciple capable of reaching the Third Mountain Gate, he realized the severity; this was Guangyuan Sect's attempt at revenge. If things continued, the host Mingcang Sect failing to send anyone to the summit would cause a great loss of face. Thus, he summoned all entry-level disciples for deliberation.
Zheng Xun sighed deeply and said, "Though Mo Yuan, Junior Mo of the Guangyuan Sect, is still young, I hear his skill at interpreting the Erosion Text is extraordinary. I've already sent Junior Brother Ma and Senior Brother Zhen to confront him. Whether they can prevail, we shall soon know."
Moments later, a young man walked in from the back of the side hall, bowing to the gathered disciples with a somber expression. "Junior Brother, I admit my skills are inferior. We'll have to rely on Senior Brother Zhen now. I'm ashamed."
The group fell silent.
Roughly a quarter-hour later, a child entered and reported, "Senior Brothers, Senior Brother Zhen has fainted."
The disciples exchanged uneasy glances. One stood up and said coldly, "Could it be Mo Yuan resorted to violence, seeing he couldn't win?"
The child hurriedly said, "Junior Brother Mo only fainted from mental exhaustion."
The man scoffed and sat back down. Secretly, they wished the matter would escalate to physical combat, but hearing Guangyuan Sect had sent a mere thirteen-year-old, using force would tarnish reputations.
Zheng Xun's gaze settled on a white-clothed youth. "Junior Brother Chen…"
Junior Chen immediately waved his hands. "Brother Zheng, please don't say more. I'm also from the Chen Family. This matter would be awkward for me to handle."
Chen Feng belonged to the Dengyang Chen Family, while Junior Chen hailed from the Luochuan Chen Family. Though they came from the same lineage, the two families had separated a century ago. Junior Chen's explanation was both an excuse and a valid reason. Zheng Xun refrained from pressuring him further, shifting his focus to another cold-faced man.
"Lin Yuan, Junior Brother Lin…"
Lin Yuan shook his head. "Mo Yuan is only thirteen; defeating him wouldn't be an honorable victory. Brother Zheng, you know I value my reputation. Don't force this on me."
Zheng Xun forced a bitter smile. He questioned several more disciples in succession, some claiming Mo Yuan was merely a registered disciple, and descending to fight him would lower their stature. Winning would invite ridicule, and losing would disgrace them. Others cited concerns over their reputations or claimed recent exhaustion from training.
In short, no one was willing.
Truthfully, they recognized Mo Yuan's prodigious talent. The defeats of the prior disciples were fresh in their minds. Success was uncertain, and failure would tarnish their family names. When compared to family honor, sect reputation mattered far less. Hence, they preferred to remain idle than risk stepping forward.
Ai Zhongwen, seated at the lowest position in the hall, shook his head upon hearing their excuses. If this standstill persisted, how would it ever be resolved? Was Mingcang Sect's dignity truly dispensable?
After some thought, he rose and declared, "Brother Zheng, I know someone from Shanyuan Temple who has profound expertise in the Erosion Text. He is certain to defeat Mo Yuan!"