Qin Ping ushered Yun Jin inside.
He poured her a cup of tea.
Yun Jin took a sip, just about to speak, when Qin Ping smiled slightly and said, "You've come for Linglong, haven't you?"
There was already a quiet understanding between clever people.
Yun Jin smiled and nodded. "This time, though it's said to be a fortunate opportunity, there's danger as well. Whether Senior Sister Linglong wishes to go or not will depend on her own will."
The hidden trove's nature was still a mystery.
Yun Jin would, of course, do everything in her power to ensure everyone's safety, but no one could make a promise with absolute certainty.
Qin Ping smiled again and turned directly to Feng Linglong, who was still looking confused. "Linglong, the Wushuang Sect's hidden trove is about to open. Yun Jin wishes to offer you one of the slots. Will you go?"
Feng Linglong froze.
She had already been a little puzzled.
Everything had clearly been handled, so why had her master remained in Lin City all this time?
Now, she suddenly understood.
From the beginning, her master had been waiting for Yun Jin.
He and Yun Jin hadn't exchanged many words, yet there was already a tacit understanding between them.
Yun Jin looked at Feng Linglong and formally extended the invitation. "Senior Sister Feng, five places in total are available for entering the trove. I don't have many friends. There's one spot left. I'd like to give it to you. What do you think?"
She continued, her voice calm, "The trove's opening this time will be riddled with unpredictability, and the inside will be filled with danger. If you decide to come, I can't guarantee your absolute safety."
Feng Linglong glanced at Qin Ping. He sipped his tea unhurriedly, his meaning clear: this was her decision to make.
In a flash, Feng Linglong made her choice.
She spoke with quiet conviction. "An opportunity like this, if it were made public, would draw people from all corners, desperate to seize it. Yun Jin, you've deliberately left this chance for me—this is already a kindness. I have no right to ask for more. In a place like that, one can only rely on luck. Who dares to demand complete safety?"
She said steadily, "The path of cultivation demands struggle. Without striving, one becomes mediocre, and mediocrity is no different from death. Yun Jin, I'll go."
There was no hesitation in Feng Linglong's voice.
Qin Ping wasn't surprised in the slightest.
He knew his disciple well. Though Feng Linglong was usually quiet and low-key, her ambitions were strong. She was called a genius within Canglan Kingdom, but what did a mere kingdom truly amount to in the grand scheme of the world?
The Wushuang Sect's hidden trove was a place where someone could rise in a single leap.
Linglong would never pass it up.
"I'll inform you when the trove is about to open," Yun Jin said.
Feng Linglong nodded, the joy in her eyes difficult to hide.
Over the past few days, her master had told her about the legendary Unparalleled Sect.
Its strength, and the righteousness of its disciples, had captured her admiration.
Now, to be offered this chance—whether for the trove or just to witness the legacy of the Unparalleled Sect with her own eyes—it was worth it.
"Then it's settled. Linglong, you may leave for now. Yun Jin and I have something to discuss," said Qin Ping.
Feng Linglong glanced curiously at her master, then at Yun Jin, but ultimately said nothing and quietly took her leave.
With her gone, only Yun Jin and Qin Ping remained in the room.
Yun Jin sipped her tea slowly, waiting for Qin Ping to speak.
She had deliberately waited a few extra days before coming, giving Qin Ping time to consider.
Now that three days had passed, he should be ready.
Amid the rising steam of the tea, Qin Ping finally spoke. His voice was calm. "Might I meet the Tian Po Sword, Senior?"
Yun Jin nodded and directly released the Tian Po Sword.
It floated in the air, its voice deep and commanding. "What is it?"
Its appearance alone was imposing.
Qin Ping stood up. "Years ago, the Wushuang Sect faced destruction for the sake of protecting all living beings. I thank you, Senior, and the disciples of the Wushuang Sect for your sacrifice."
He bowed three times with utmost respect toward the Tian Po Sword.
Yun Jin was a little surprised but didn't stop him.
The Tian Po Sword accepted the bows as a matter of course.
No matter how grand the respect, it deserved it.
After finishing his bows, Qin Ping said, "If the outer-realm demons had invaded back then, the first to die would've been the ordinary people. After them, the cultivators. Only at the end would the saints have fallen. The disciples of the Wushuang Sect chose death to protect the world. The people may not know this, but the heavens do. The sect is blessed with great Luck. Its rebirth is destined to succeed."
Qin Ping's sudden words even took the Tian Po Sword slightly aback. "You can perceive Luck?"
Luck was an unseen, untouchable force—hazy and ephemeral. Even the cultivators of the Four Holy Lands could only glimpse traces of it through celestial artifacts, and even then, using them came at great cost. They couldn't be activated frequently.
Yet Qin Ping, with no artifact, seemed able to sense it.
Qin Ping smiled. "In terms of cultivation, I can't compare to the Four Holy Lands. But a thousand years ago, I was a National Teacher. I protected the people, received incense offerings from ten thousand households. Over time, I began to feel something. I can't quantify a person's Luck, but I've developed a kind of intuition. When Yun Jin arrived, a voice within me whispered—Wushuang Sect shall rise."
This was the guidance granted by the Dao itself.
From the moment he met Yun Jin, Qin Ping had felt it faintly. When he saw the Tian Po Sword, that sensation became clear as day.
Now, he was certain.
The future of cultivators in their Imperial realm rested with Yun Jin—or rather, with the future Wushuang Sect.
Yun Jin's expression flickered slightly.
Blessed by the offerings of thousands, guided by the Dao?
She suddenly felt something strange.
Was it truly right that cultivators sever emotions and attachments, focusing solely on themselves?
If cutting everything away was the only path to power…
Then in the end, what was left besides strength?
If heartlessness was the only truth—
Then why was Qin Ping, who had devoted himself to his country and been loved by his people, now chosen by the Dao?
Yun Jin quietly pressed that thought down.
She wasn't yet ready to touch the answers to such lofty questions. She only knew one thing—she had her own path.
She wouldn't go out of her way to be kind, but she would protect those around her with all she had.
She wasn't one to meddle, but if she had the power to intervene, why shouldn't she?
At the root of it—
A cultivator is, first and foremost, a person.
If one cannot be a good person, how can one ever become a good immortal?
"Interesting," the Tian Po Sword muttered. Qin Ping's words seemed to resonate with him, though he didn't speak further. He only asked, "So, what is it you want?"
Qin Ping took a deep breath and said slowly, "The Wushuang Sect is being rebuilt from nothing. There is much to be done. I wish to bring the Imperial cultivators of Canglan Kingdom to join the Wushuang Sect."
It was a monumental decision, but Qin Ping's expression remained calm.
It was just a gamble.
So let it be a gamble.
If it worked, they would find light at the end of the path.
If it didn't—then at least they had tried.