Sword Sect Outer Sect

Chapter 331 The Name of the Sect Master
This was the first time that any of the cultivators had heard such a fluctuation in tone from Dao Zi Mo Ling's mouth.

Seeing that the painter was unremarkable and unfamiliar, they all turned their curious gazes toward the painting.

Song Yan was startled.

He realized that since Senior Wu Daoxuan was acquainted with the seniors of the Sword Sect, it was quite possible that he had seen the Sword Sect's jade seal.

But then Dao Zi Mo Ling stared at the seal for a long time.

The originally indifferent ink-wash body seemed to have subtle ripples spreading out.

Finally, as if confirming something, he slowly raised his head, looking over the painting, and his gaze fell on Song Yan.

"Your name is Xu Youhe?"

"Uh……"

Song Yan looked somewhat embarrassed and quickly stepped forward to show the small lotus flower hidden in his sleeve to Senior Wu Daoxuan.

He said in a low voice, "I know nothing about painting. In fact, this painting was created by my spirit pet."

Xiao He poked its head out from its sleeve and then pointed at itself with the tip of its tail with great pride.

It is I.

"..."

Dao Zi Mo Ling was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "The little demon is quite intelligent; we must not waste her great talent in painting."

As the saying goes, education should be provided to all without discrimination, and Senior Wu Daoxuan did not care about Xiao He's monster identity.

Song Yan chuckled: "I know, I know."

Is this seal yours?

"Yes."

Song Yan nodded.

Dao Zi Mo Ling didn't say anything more and returned the painting to him.

They then continued reviewing the paintings.

The incident was minor and didn't attract much attention.

Among the group from Xuan Yuan Sect, Shen Yu stared at the ordinary-looking cultivator, lost in thought.

Why does this person's portrait bear such a striking resemblance to Song Yan?

Coincidence?
Could he be Song Yan, but he has used some kind of face-changing technique?

Or perhaps this person had met Song Yan before and was one of his closest friends...

Shen Yu began to become suspicious.

In the crowd, Lin Qing patted Song Yan on the shoulder: "Junior Brother Song, you really fooled me!"

"Senior Brother Lin, I really didn't lie to you."

Song Yan said helplessly, "It was drawn by Xiao He. Look, I even wrote Xiao He's name in the signature."

Xiao He peeked out from her sleeve again, pointing at herself with the tip of her tail.

Lin Qing looked at She Bao with some surprise, and after a long while, she managed to utter, "A prodigy!"

My initial feeling of imbalance has somehow calmed down considerably.

Lin Qing wanted to discuss painting with Xiao He, but she found that Song Yan and she, along with the snake, were staring at each other blankly, clearly knowing nothing about it.

A sense of melancholy rose in my heart once again.

"Does Senior Daoxuan mean that my painting skills are actually the same as this little snake baby who knows absolutely nothing about painting techniques...?"

Lin Qing had always known that painting required a lot of talent, but only now did he truly understand the meaning of that statement.

There weren't many paintings left, and Daozi Moling quickly finished reviewing them one by one.

No one who came after them was able to achieve the highest rating.

In this painting competition, the painter named Zhong Ali undoubtedly won first place.

Speaking of which, this Zhong Ali is the same cultivator that Song Yan inquired about regarding figure painting earlier.

I never expected that she would have such profound artistic skills at such a young age.

Song Yan was deeply impressed.

However, for some reason, Song Yan always felt that this person's temperament was somewhat familiar.

With the last painting flying back into the monk's hands, all the paintings were appraised.

"The painting process is now complete. You may all leave now."

Then, Dao Zi Mo Ling's gaze fell on Zhong Ali.

"You, come with me."

He turned and walked into the courtyard, with Zhong Ali following closely behind.

Although the painting process had ended, the outer restrictions had been lifted, and everyone's cultivation had recovered, none of the people in the valley wanted to leave at this moment.

Everyone wanted to see what kind of treasure this disciple of the Luofu Sect would ultimately obtain from Senior Wu Daoxuan.

Wu Xingzhi said to one of his disciples, "Go and wait at the door. When this person appears, invite her to come and be a guest at the Wu family."

He then said to Wu Yuqian on the other side, "Yuqian, you know this person, you come with me."

"Yes, Uncle."

Wu Daoxuan was, after all, the ancestor of the Wu family. Although he wanted to promote the younger generation of those outside the family, if there was room for discussion, the Wu family still wanted to keep his original works in the Wu family ancestral hall.

Invite Mr. Wu for a chat. No matter the outcome, at the very least, you will be on good terms with him.

Amidst the murmurs of the crowd, Dao Zi Mo Ling suddenly stopped in his tracks.

As if remembering something, he turned slightly to the side and looked at Song Yan: "You, come too."

"..."

Song Yan was momentarily stunned. He first looked back at the cultivators around him, then pointed to himself.

"I?"

"Come."

After saying that, he took Zhong Ali and stepped into the courtyard, no longer paying attention to the situation inside the valley.

Song Yan was somewhat puzzled, but she did as she was told and quickly walked towards the courtyard.

However, the surrounding cultivators were discussing it amongst themselves.

"What? That person, isn't it Otsugami?"

"Why did the senior specifically name him to go in?"

"Are there two cultivators skilled in painting who can obtain the treasures left behind by their predecessors?"

"But that doesn't seem fair, since Jiang Yunzhi is only in the lowest tier of Class A."

Discussions and doubts surged like a tide.

Among the observing cultivators, Sun Zhenglun of the Dongyuan Sect watched the man's retreating figure, pondering to himself.

Previously, he had been focused on the results of his Golden Core friend and hadn't paid much attention to it.

Looking back now, he realized that he had heard his son, Sun Zhengfu, mention the name Xu Youhe.

"Is that the spirit pet that kid named Song Yan always carries with him...?"

With just two thoughts, he was already certain that this ordinary-looking person was Song Yan in disguise.

He glanced at it only once before looking away, then glanced warily at Shen Yu, whose expression was uncertain, not far away.

On the Wu family's side, Wu Xingzhi was also somewhat bewildered.

In the past, regardless of whether Dao Zi Mo Ling appeared, there was always only one cultivator who could ultimately obtain the ancestral treasures.

Why are there two people this time?

Among the cultivators participating in the painting practice, there was a young girl staring at Song Yan's back, deep in thought.

"How come the person in this painting looks so much like the fellow Daoist who treated me to dinner at the Fallen Flower Restaurant?"

The one who suffered the most was Jiang Yunzhi, the Daoist disciple of the Yunmo Sect.

His face turned pale, and a surge of humiliation and anger welled up inside him.

He is a Daoist disciple of the Yunmo Sect, possessing exceptional talent and diligent practice.

In the painting competition, he achieved the lowest rank, second only to that woman, and he could only feel that perhaps he was truly inferior in skill.

I have some reservations, but they are still within reason.

But now, that person clearly only received a second-class evaluation, so why was he able to enter the Painting Saint's Courtyard with Zhong Ali?
He was somewhat unable to accept it at first.

Song Yan was certainly aware of the whispers and pointing fingers around him, but he didn't care.

How others perceive him is completely unimportant to him.

Stepping into the courtyard, the scenery suddenly changed, and the discussions and noise behind me seemed to be blocked by a layer of water, gradually becoming inaudible.

This courtyard is a different world altogether, with ancient trees reaching for the sky and a clear spring gurgling.

Dao Zi Mo Ling was leading Zhong Ali towards a certain place, and Song Yan quickly followed.

Zhong Ali glanced at him sideways, also somewhat curious about this person. The two looked at each other, nodded politely, and remained silent.

Leading Song Yan and Zhong Ali through a corridor, Dao Zi Mo Ling finally stopped in front of a refined residence.

In front of the study was a painting table, on which were two things.

A simple and elegant pen holder, on which hang brushes of various sizes and for different purposes.

The other item was a scroll that had been put away.

Dao Zimo Ling gently beckoned, took the scroll in her hand, and handed it to Zhong Ali.

Zhong Ali was a little taken aback for a moment, and quickly took it with both hands.

“Young man, the image of the ghost and god you painted has a profound and mysterious charm. It may contain a bit of divine opportunity.”

Zhong Ali looked down at the scroll in her hand. It had no fancy decorations and even looked a bit old.

"This painting was created by someone who dreamt of entering the Great Void during his lifetime and glimpsed divine secrets."

Mo Ling said calmly, "Study this in your spare time. If you are blessed with good fortune, you may be able to comprehend its profound meaning."

He spoke casually, as if what he had bestowed was just an ordinary object.

"Thank you for your generous gift, senior. I will certainly live up to your expectations and devote myself to studying it."

"This pen holder is actually a kind of magic weapon, named Autumn Sounds and Candle Shadows. It was obtained by a friend by chance and given to me."

"It's not very useful, so I'll give it to you as well."

Mo Ling simply nodded slightly: "The painting practice is over. You can either study the painting here or leave directly; it's up to you."

He then stopped looking at her.

"Come with me." Mo Ling said to Song Yan without warning, then turned and walked deeper into the courtyard.

Song Yan was taken aback, and quickly followed.

Zhong Ali watched Song Yan's retreating figure, hesitated for a moment, then found a stone bench under a tree to sit down and carefully opened a corner of the scroll.

Is this a portrait?
The scene appears to be a covered bridge.

There are many figures on it, some ethereal, some majestic, and some graceful and beautiful.

As the scroll unfolded, more and more figures appeared before her.

Lotus flowers bloom beneath the bridge, and auspicious clouds drift and swirl.

Banners fluttered in the breeze as people marched in procession across the bridge, some carrying vases of flowers, others holding brocade banners, and still others carrying musical instruments or swords…

Noble and solemn, their dresses fluttering in the wind, the procession stretched endlessly, a truly magnificent sight.

Soon, the scroll was completely unrolled.

Zhong Ali stared at the painting, frozen in place.

Wu Daoxuan did not sign the painting, but wrote a few small characters at the end of the scroll, in the gap between the scroll and the painting, which may be the name of the painting.

Eighty-seven Immortals Scroll.

……

Song Yan followed Mo Ling through an archway naturally formed by hanging vines, and the scenery before them changed once again.

What comes into view is a somewhat desolate bamboo forest.

Song Yan found this bamboo grove somewhat familiar; it was the scene from the painting he had seen before.

However, the scene before their eyes was completely different from the vibrant life depicted in the painting.

The bamboo forest had lost its vibrant green luster, and the bamboo stalks had turned a somber grayish-yellow, resembling rotten wood.

The entire bamboo forest exudes a desolate and bleak atmosphere, as if it is about to wither away.

In the small clearing in the center of the bamboo forest, a moon-white longsword was stuck diagonally.

He was a man from Jin Gui.

At this moment, it truly appeared before Song Yan's eyes. The moon-white light on the sword body flowed gently, like a clear spring under the moon, quiet and restrained.

Mo Ling led Song Yan to the flying sword and stopped.

"Actually, he found the spiritual seeds himself and spent a lot of effort planting them here.

"What are you talking about? The clouds and air here are flowing, making it a good place to nurture sword energy."

Dao Zi Mo Ling's voice carried a hint of reminiscence.

“I am not one of your sword cultivators, but I also think that with this bamboo forest, the scenery in the garden is even better, so I let him tinker around here on his own.”

"Now this garden is abandoned, and the flying sword that his mother forged for him looks lonely here."

"Since you are a successor of the Sword Sect, you may take this sword."

Song Yan took a deep breath: "Thank you for your kindness, senior."

Without any formalities, he immediately stepped forward, reached out, grasped the hilt of the sword, and drew it out.

With a flick of his finger, he unleashed his spiritual power to brush away the dirt and dust on it.

He then temporarily put it into his Qiankun Bag.

Mo Ling nodded slightly.

"Oh, right."

Mo Ling seemed to suddenly remember something unimportant, "After he left, the place he mentioned back then was the valley outside Fancheng, south of Xiangyang City. I went there later."

"That is indeed a suitable place to cultivate one's sword and mind, and to comprehend the essence of swordsmanship. If you have the opportunity to go to Xiangyang in the future, you can also visit it on your way."

"I left all the paintings I made while observing swords there."

"If no audacious bandits or fools have carved them out over the years, you should still be able to find those paintings."

At this moment, Song Yan asked the question that had been lingering in his mind for a long time, somewhat inappropriately.

"Senior, please forgive my impertinence."

"What is the name of that senior sword cultivator?"

"..."

Upon hearing this question, Dao Zi Mo Ling's figure froze for a moment.

"you……"

His voice held a strange undertone: "You're not his disciple? You haven't received his personal instruction?"

Song Yan first nodded, then shook his head.

"Please forgive me, senior. I am indeed a disciple of the Sword Sect."

Song Yan forced himself to explain, his tone quite helpless: "When I entered the sect by chance, the sect... the sect had already been deserted."

"I did receive a letter from the sect leader, but I know nothing else about the Sword Sect."

Upon hearing this, Dao Zi Mo Ling seemed to understand something and let out a soft sigh.

"That's right. All his own disciples are dead, so where would he find the time to train another one?"

"If we can still put in some effort to find a suitable successor, that would be quite good."

Song Yan felt somewhat embarrassed upon hearing Dao Zi Mo Ling's words.

He thought to himself that he wasn't actually found by this senior, but just happened to pick it up.

"Since he didn't mention it to you in his letter, he must have his reasons. I won't meddle in his business."

"However, I can tell you his name."

“My old friend is named Zhong Min, and he is the last sect leader of your Sword Sect.”

Zhong Min.

This was the first time Song Yan had heard this name.

"senior……"

He wanted to ask something more, but Dao Zi Mo Ling raised his hand and stopped him.

"With your current level of cultivation, knowing this is of no benefit; it will only bring disaster upon you."

"This matter is settled. You may leave now."

He no longer looked at Song Yan, nor did he mention his old friend Xiang. His illusory figure swayed slightly, like a reflection on the water's surface beginning to blur and fade away.

Then, it unexpectedly transformed into a picture page.

The painting slowly flew out of the courtyard, and Wu Xingzhi, who was observing the ceremony from the outside, was already prepared.

He took out an ancient-looking picture book from his Qiankun bag, and with a flick of his spiritual power, it floated in the air and began to turn the pages one by one.

The pages fluttered in and gently landed in the album.

Wu Xingzhi activated his spiritual power to bring them together.

All the Wu family members bowed deeply and respectfully before the picture album.

"We respectfully invite our ancestors to return to their hometown."

(End of this chapter)