Wandering Swordsman |

As the assessment continued, the atmosphere became tense again. The interviews, which had been suspended due to the unexpected situation, resumed, and many more candidates gradually arrived at the training ground.

Shen Mo stood amidst the crowd, gazing at the familiar surroundings, his heart filled with profound reflection. Although the earlier commotion had subsided, his thoughts surged like a tide. Suddenly, a familiar and cheerful voice rang out from behind him:

"Brother Shen! It really is you!"

Shen Mo turned around and saw He Yun striding towards him, his blue robe fluttering slightly in the wind, a sincere smile on his face. His steps were steady, and his eyes held a hint of surprise and familiarity, as if they had only parted yesterday.

"Brother He!" Shen Mo cupped his hands and smiled, his tone revealing a hint of joy. "I really didn't expect to see you again so soon."

The two smiled at each other, as if time had stood still and old friends had reunited, their hearts understanding each other without needing many words.

Murong Qing stood beside Shen Mo, her expression originally calm, but now she was also drawn by the familiar laughter. She turned her head, her gaze falling on He Yun, and nodded slightly: "Young Master He."

Before the words were finished, a series of light footsteps approached from afar, accompanied by a clear and melodious voice coming from the crowd:

"Young Master Shen! Miss Murong!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw Zhao Xue dressed in a plain white dress, her clothes fluttering in the wind, a jade hairpin in her hair, her eyes bright and lively, a smile on her lips, like a spring breeze. Behind her followed Yang Muruan, dressed in a light purple dress, her expression gentle and graceful. When she saw Shen Mo looking over, she nodded slightly, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

"Miss Zhao, you've actually come too." Shen Mo responded with a smile, somewhat surprised by the arrival of Zhao Xue and Yang Muruan.

"Young Master Shen, if we had known you were here, we would have been more at ease letting Brother Yun come to the academy alone." Zhao Xue covered her mouth and smiled, her eyes full of playfulness.

Just as the group was exchanging pleasantries, a slight commotion suddenly arose at the entrance of the training ground. Everyone turned to look, and saw a young man dressed in a Taoist robe rushing towards them. He was tall and slender, his steps light as the wind, and although his bangs were damp with sweat, they could not hide his bright and piercing eyes.

"Uncle-Master—!" the young man shouted as he ran, his voice filled with excitement and enthusiasm.

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

"Uncle-Master?"

"Who is his martial uncle?"

Look at his gaze, and the direction he ran. Everyone's eyes turned to Shen Mo, and even He Yun and Murong Qing couldn't help but show surprise.

The young man was Zhang Ye, a true disciple of Wudang, who was now addressing Shen Mo as "Uncle-Master," which was truly baffling.

Zhang Ye leaped to Shen Mo's side, panting, but his face beaming with undisguised joy: "Uncle-Master! I finally found you! I thought you weren't here for the assessment!"

"Ahem..." Shen Mo coughed lightly, looking at everyone with a slightly embarrassed expression. "Qing'er, Brother He, this is Zhang Ye, a true disciple of Wudang whom I met in Wudang."

"Junior disciple?" He Yun's eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief. "Brother Shen, when did you join Wudang? How come we didn't hear a word about it?"

"Yes," Murong Qing couldn't help but speak up, her brows furrowing slightly, "How could a true disciple of Wudang address you as 'Uncle-Master'?"

Shen Mo gave a wry smile, his gaze slowly sweeping across everyone's faces, as if trying to see through everyone's thoughts.

He took a deep breath and began to recount his brief experience at Wudang—from his promise to Master Zhang of Wudang, to the deep friendship he formed with the sect leader despite their age difference; from studying the precious classics left by past sect leaders in the forbidden area, to the glorious moment when he was granted the Tai Chi Sword and became a "guest elder of Wudang".

Every detail, every insight, was woven into vivid scenes by him with delicate language, and presented to everyone.

Qin Wan, He Yun, and the others listened to Shen Mo's explanation and immediately understood, their understanding transforming into deep admiration. They finally understood why Sect Leader Zhang Taixuan had so vehemently defended Shen Mo, even at the cost of conflict with other sects. It turned out that Zhang Taixuan and Shen Mo had this kind of relationship.

"No wonder..." Qin Wan murmured softly, her eyes flashing with undisguised surprise. "Young Master Shen is not only exceptionally talented, but he has also gained the approval of the Wudang Sect Leader. This opportunity and this achievement are truly admirable."

......

However, at this moment, Huangfu Feilong stood in the distance, his gaze complex as he watched the crowd gradually gathering around Shen Mo. His face was as gloomy as the sky before a storm, and a long-lost sense of crisis welled up in his heart.

Despite his high self-esteem, he could no longer maintain his composure in the face of Shen Mo's powerful background and extraordinary charm.

Huangfu Feilong's eyes flickered slightly, then turned to Long Zaitian, the young sect master of the Changhe Sword Sect, who was not far away.

Huangfu Feilong knew that if he wanted to keep Shen Mo in check in the academy in the future, he had to find a powerful ally, and Long Zaitian was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate.

Then, Huangfu Feilong slowly walked towards Long Zaitian, a barely perceptible smile on his lips: "Young Sect Master Long, may I have a word with you in private?"

Long Zaitian turned his head, his gaze as cold as a blade sweeping across Huangfu Feilong's face: "Young Master Huangfu, what brings you here?"

Huangfu Feilong coughed lightly, his tone tinged with a hint of probing: "I see that Shen Mo is quite ambitious, and with the backing of Wudang and the Murong family, he may pose a significant threat to our position at the academy in the future. How about we join forces to deal with him together?"

However, Long Zaitian merely smiled faintly, a hint of disdain in his eyes: "Young Master Huangfu is overthinking it. My Changhe Sword Sect has always been a loner and dislikes forming alliances. Moreover, although Shen Mo has some skill, he is not enough to make me feel threatened."

After saying that, Long Zaitian ignored Huangfu Feilong. Huangfu Feilong stood there, his face ashen, secretly gritting his teeth.

......

About an hour later, the noise in the training ground gradually subsided, and no more young martial artists stepped into the training ground.

Suddenly, a gentle breeze swept by, bringing a touch of coolness, as if even the air itself had become still.

Just then, an elderly man with white hair and a youthful face appeared silently in a corner of the training ground.

His appearance was like a wisp of smoke; no one noticed when he arrived, nor could they sense any fluctuation of his inner energy. He was like an ordinary old farmer, dressed in simple clothes, with a kind and approachable face, exuding an aura of returning to simplicity.

However, behind this seemingly ordinary figure, Shen Mo felt an unprecedented sense of oppression.

The old man's every movement and every breath was like the most hidden star in the night sky—not dazzling, but containing boundless power.