Chapter 327 The Final Result
The next morning, the thin mist within the Immortal Spirit Valley had yet to disperse.
Chen Chang'an lay lazily on a rocking chair made of millennium-old rosewood, a green robe casually draped over him.
Suddenly, his fingertips trembled slightly.
"Hm?"
Chen Chang'an abruptly opened his eyes, his gaze piercing through layers of fog to land on the tall figure at the valley entrance.
The young man wore a black outfit, with a blue steel sword slanted across his back, the tassel still stained with fresh blood.
It was Ye Fan, returning from his one-year assessment.
But what shocked Chen Chang'an was not this—In his vision, Ye Fan was surrounded by a dense, nearly tangible golden light of merit!
The golden light took the shape of dragons and pythons, sometimes transforming into dangling jeweled necklaces, sometimes condensing into the precious appearance of lotuses, setting off the youth as if a god or Buddha had descended into the world.
Most astonishingly, the total amount of this merit power was not much less than that contained within the final clear light of the Heavenly Stele Gathering!
"Hiss..."
Even with Chen Chang'an's mental fortitude, he could not help but gasp.
You must know that just that previous ray of merit clear light was enough to allow a cultivator at the peak of the Human Immortal Realm to directly enter the Saint Realm! Yet this youth was only at the Profound Connection Realm, yet he had already accumulated such a massive amount of merit?
He subconsciously summoned the system panel: [Ye Fan]
Cultivation: Profound Connection Realm
Potential: 100 (Desolate Heaven Saint Body)
Destiny: 90 (Child of Destiny)
Loyalty: 30 (Admiration)
Personality: Enduring, Determined
"Another Child of Destiny..."
Chen Chang'an narrowed his eyes.
On the panel, that glaring "100" potential value was unmistakably the legendary Desolate Heaven Saint Body.
But what truly terrified him was the time.
In just one short year! Merit power that ordinary cultivators might not be able to accumulate even a wisp of after ten thousand years of bitter cultivation, this youth had actually accumulated to such an extent in one year? If given a hundred years...
Chen Chang'an suddenly felt a bitterness in his mouth.
Only at this moment did he truly realize the gap between a Child of Destiny and an ordinary person.
But one must know that Ji Wuque plotted for tens of thousands of years, calculating every move, yet only managed to save up about a hundred times what Ye Fan had gained in one year.
And Ji Wuque could hardly be considered an ordinary person—even if not the true chess player, he was at least a pivotal piece on the chessboard.
The morning breeze blew past, and the rocking chair made a creaking sound.
Chen Chang'an looked at the youth's figure drawing nearer, a trace of complexity flashing in his eyes.
That black outfit still carried the scent of the mortal world, but who could have imagined that such a seemingly ordinary youth actually bore such a heaven-defying fortune?
...
Morning light scattered, and the sea of clouds churned.
Xiao Chen stood with hands clasped behind his back on a high platform, with six true disciples behind him and the remaining thirty-four inner sect disciples standing below, all participants of this assessment.
Ye Fan stood in the crowd, his expression calm.
Although there was no fluctuation of spiritual power around him, he naturally possessed a temperament steady as a mountain, causing the surrounding disciples to unconsciously maintain their distance from him—not out of rejection, but out of a subconscious awe.
Xiao Chen's gaze swept over everyone, pausing slightly on Ye Fan, then said aloud:
"In this assessment, Zhang Zijian practiced medicine to help the world, using mortal techniques to save the dying and heal the wounded, leading three thousand mortals to voluntarily migrate to the Spirit Realm; he deserves first place!"
Immediately, a round of applause erupted from below the platform.
Zhang Zijian, his face flushed, stepped out of the ranks and bowed deeply to Xiao Chen.
He had a thin figure, and his green robe was washed until it was white, making him look like an ordinary country doctor, except for those eyes which were as bright as stars, revealing the warmth of a benevolent heart and healing art.
"A healer possesses a benevolent heart, not letting down the common people."
Xiao Chen nodded approvingly, "Hope you do not forget your original intention in the future."
Han Yu stood to the side, his expression as usual, as if he had long expected this result.
Ji Lingxiu and Jiang Che looked at each other, both smiling bitterly.
Although they did not agree with this result, since it was the decision of the senior brother, they silently accepted it.
Ye Fan's expression was calm, his gaze clear.
The experiences of this year had long made him understand what he pursued—it was not fame, nor power, but what he could truly do for the common people.
Just when everyone thought the matter was settled, Xiao Chen suddenly changed the subject:
"However—"
The entire venue instantly fell silent.
"In this assessment, inner sect disciple Ye Fan, although he violated the rules by taking action, slaughtered demons and eliminated evil, saving myriad people from water and fire, with magnificent achievements."
Xiao Chen's voice was steady and powerful, "Master has taught us since childhood that those who act for the common people of the world should not be obscured by rules."
His gaze swept over everyone, and he continued, "Therefore, in addition to the six true disciples—"
Chen Xingcai sighed softly and walked out slowly.
She wore red clothes, bright as fire, completely different from her usual jumpy appearance; at this moment, she actually carried a trace of solemnity.
"Ye Fan," she looked straight at the youth, her voice clear, "Are you willing to take me as your master?"
Ye Fan raised his head abruptly, a look of disbelief flashing in his eyes, then without hesitation he knelt on one knee, performing a standard bow of apprenticeship:
"Disciple Ye Fan, greets Master!"
...
Subsequently, it was the solemn apprenticeship ceremony.
In the end—Xiao Chen accepted Lin Xiaoyu and Gu Chensha as disciples.
Han Yu accepted Li Wushuang as a disciple.
Jiang Che accepted Luo He as a disciple.
Ji Lingxiu accepted Ming Yu as a disciple.
Li Hanzhou accepted Zhang Zijian as a disciple.
Chen Xingcai accepted Ye Fan as a disciple.
Xiao Chen nodded slightly and continued to announce: "Starting today, the names of the seven true disciples of the Immortal Spirit Holy Land shall be announced to the world—"
His tone suddenly became sharp, his voice like thunder: "From now on, whoever kills these seven people, the Immortal Spirit Holy Land—"
"Will pursue them to the death!"
The seven true disciples stepped forward in unison, their momentum like a rainbow.
The mountain wind howled, and the sea of clouds surged.
For the Immortal Spirit Holy Land, a new era had begun.
...
And finally, after everyone had left, Xiao Chen called out to Ye Fan.
He patted Ye Fan on the shoulder: "Go say your goodbyes!"
...
The door to the Spirit Realm slowly opened, and rich spiritual energy surged out like a tide, carrying a refreshing and heart-nourishing clarity.
Ye Fan stepped into the Spirit Realm, and his vision suddenly broadened—The firmament was washed clean, azure and clear, higher and more distant than the sky in the mortal world.
In the distance, mountain ranges were continuous, with white snow capping the peaks, and clouds and mist swirling around the mountainsides, resembling a fairyland.
The ground beneath his feet was black and fertile; a light step seemed as if it could seep out spiritual liquid, nourishing all things.
The stream was crystal clear, the scales of fish swimming inside flashing a faint spiritual light, and the grass and trees on the bank were lush; spiritual flowers and herbs bloomed everywhere, emitting an intoxicating fragrance.
Here was a true paradise.
In the distance, three million seven hundred thousand mortals had already set up camp, stretching for a thousand miles.
Cooking smoke rose curling upwards, children played, and the scene was full of vitality.
Ye Fan discerned the location briefly and flew directly to the central area.
When Ye Fan's figure appeared, the crowd suddenly fell silent, then erupted into earth-shattering cheers—"Your Majesty! It is Your Majesty!"
Countless people knelt on the ground, tears in their eyes, their voices trembling.
Among them were white-haired elders, children not yet grown, strong men, and weak women.
Everyone looked at Ye Fan, their eyes full of reverence.
Ye Fan walked slowly to the center of the crowd, looking at those familiar faces, his throat tightening slightly.
"Everyone..." he spoke, his voice low but clear, "The spiritual energy here is abundant, and the land is fertile. You can live and work in peace here, no longer suffering from hunger and cold."
A white-haired old man walked out of the crowd tremblingly, his tears flowing freely: "Your Majesty, you... will you not stay?"
Ye Fan was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "I... still have unfinished business."
The crowd became agitated, and some could not help but cry out: "Your Majesty, if you are not here, what shall we do?"
Ye Fan took a deep breath, his gaze firm: "You are no longer ants at the mercy of others. You have your own hands and your own wisdom."
He paused, his voice stronger, "Remember, here, you can cultivate spiritual fields, practice cultivation to strengthen your bodies, and build your own homes."
"But Your Majesty..." a youth with red eyes said, "We just want to follow you!"
Ye Fan looked at the youth's stubborn gaze, as if seeing his past self.
He reached out and patted the youth's shoulder, whispering: "Living well is the best way to follow me."
The crowd fell silent, with only low sobbing sounds.
Ye Fan looked around at everyone and said slowly: "Today we part, perhaps we will never meet again. But remember—"
"You are no longer slaves, no longer lowly people; you are free."
"Survive, and live better."
As his words fell, he turned and walked toward the door of the Spirit Realm, his back straight as a pine.
Morning light scattered, the wind of the Spirit Realm rolling up the fragrance of vegetation, brushing past Ye Fan's robes.
With his back to the crowd, his steps did not stop, walking step by step towards the door of the Spirit Realm.
Behind him, first a few elders near the center knelt tremblingly, their foreheads touching the ground, their voices choked: "We send off Your Majesty!"
This sound was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring up layers of ripples.
Immediately after, the second row, the third row... like wind blowing through wheat waves, the kneeling figures spread rapidly from the center outwards.
Strong men knelt on one knee, holding fists and bowing their heads; women held children and bowed together; white-haired elders kowtowed deeply, their foreheads pressed tightly to the earth.
Three million seven hundred thousand people knelt in succession like a tide.
"We send off Your Majesty!"
"We send off Your Majesty!"
The sound waves were like thunder, one wave after another, gathering from all directions, shaking the clouds over the Spirit Realm to tremble slightly.
The mountains echoed the shouts, the streams reflected the kneeling figures, and the entire world seemed to solemnify for this moment.
Ye Fan's steps paused slightly.
He did not look back, only raised his hand and waved it gently.
This simple action made the sound waves behind him even more turbulent.
Some began to cry, some shouted "Take care, Your Majesty," and more voices turned into the most simple blessings: "May Your Majesty's Immortal Path be evergreen!"
"May Your Majesty's Immortal Path be evergreen!"
The light curtain of the Spirit Realm's door began to gather, shrinking like water waves rippling.
The figures of the mortals gradually blurred in the light curtain, but their kneeling posture did not change, and their shouts did not stop.
At the last moment, Ye Fan's fingertips touched the closing door.
The light curtain closed silently, sealing the shouts, tears, and hopes of the three million seven hundred thousand people within that newborn heaven and earth.
Outside the door, only Ye Fan's solitary figure remained, along with a wisp of the Spirit Realm's breeze lingering on his fingertips.
...
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