Chapter 218: The Martial Hall
After leaving Elder Lin Yue's counter, the three of them were nearly at the Exchange Hall's entrance when footsteps came up quickly behind them.
"Hey—wait up."
An Outer Court Disciple jogged over, three booklets in hand. "Elder Lin Yue asked me to give you these."
"The sect manual," Su Tianhao said, without turning. "She mentioned it earlier."
Wang Bing accepted hers with a quiet smile. "I think she was annoyed enough by the unfair negotiation that she almost forgot."
"You could see it on her face," Su Lei laughed.
"I didn't force her," Su Tianhao said mildly. "So it wasn't unfair."
He took his booklet and glanced briefly at the disciple delivering it—4th Level Martial Adept, unhurried manner, no particular urgency in his bearing. The kind of posture that came from spending more time inside the sect than outside it.
'Probably prefers running errands for Elders over taking field missions,' he noted inwardly, without judgment.
"That manual covers everything you need to know about the sect," the disciple said, addressing all three of them with clear, practiced precision. "Go through it. Ignorance isn't accepted as an excuse here."
"Thank you, Senior Brother," Su Lei said.
"Thank you, Senior," Wang Bing followed.
Su Tianhao was already reading.
The disciple waited a moment, then laughed quietly to himself and turned to leave. Ask the first-place recruit for a greeting? He had been in the clearing when Su Tianhao defeated Torin. Some hills weren't worth dying on.
Su Tianhao heard the footsteps fade, raised his head, and looked at the other two.
"Let's go."
---
They left the Exchange Hall and moved back along the long clifftop path toward the main route. Su Tianhao read as he walked, the manual open in one hand, his pace unhurried and precise—never drifting toward the railing, never slowing the group. His analytical mind moved through the thirty-five pages with the ease of someone processing a document they had already half-expected.
"Do you two have plans for the rest of the day?" Wang Bing asked, an expectant quality in her eyes.
"Neither of you bought weapons or pills back there," Su Tianhao said, without looking up. "So I'd guess no."
"I want my weapon custom made," Su Lei said. "The Exchange Hall is fine for standard issue—but I want something built for me specifically. The Weapon Hall is the better option for that. As for pills, I don't need any right now."
Su Tianhao finally looked up at Wang Bing.
She smiled. "I have what I need from my clan already. Weapons and pills both." A brief pause. "Though I wouldn't mind looking at some new techniques."
"Page seven," Su Tianhao said, closing the manual and sending it into his spatial ring. "Disciples are expected to practice at least one sect martial art or cultivation technique. So the Martial Hall makes sense."
"Then it's settled." Wang Bing reached up and hooked her arm over Su Tianhao's shoulder with the easy confidence of someone who hadn't thought twice about it. She winked at him with a bright smile. "Lead the way."
"I'm moving forward," Su Tianhao said flatly, already walking.
---
He led them on the longer route—past the Cultivation Hall, the training grounds, and the Medicine Hall—while Su Mei's earlier tour played back in his memory with clean precision. Wang Bing had asked for a short look at each area, and after Su Lei joined her in the request, Su Tianhao had agreed without particular enthusiasm.
He explained things as they went. Mostly factual. Occasionally useful. Su Lei asked questions. Wang Bing listened with genuine attention, her arm still comfortably looped through his.
Eventually they arrived at the Martial Hall.
It sat at the center of a wide, open courtyard—a massive three-story structure of pale jade-white stone with dark ironwood frames. The roof curved upward in the traditional sect style, deep blue tiles with silver edges catching the light cleanly. Above the entrance, a carved plaque bore two words in flowing script: Martial Hall. Beneath them, the sect's insignia—a mountain peak wreathed in rising mist, a sword planted at its summit.
The first floor was open—tall windows, stone desks, attendants moving between shelves with the particular unhurry of people who had done this many times before. The upper two floors were enclosed, their walls etched with preservation arrays. No weapons on display. No training dummies. Just scrolls, jade slips, and disciples moving between them with careful hands.
The courtyard was paved in smooth white stone, kept spotless by sect formations. A few stone benches and spirit trees were placed at intervals—somewhere for disciples to sit and review a technique before heading out to use it. The air carried aged paper, ink, and a faint thread of sandalwood from inside.
Su Tianhao looked at it and felt quiet approval.
No wasted space. No posturing. Just knowledge, stored and accessible. He stepped forward without slowing.
"Let's get in and finish this quickly."
Wang Bing moved to follow—and only then registered that her arm had been hooked around Su Tianhao's neck for the better part of the last hour.
She shrieked backward. Her face went immediately, completely red. "I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to—"
Su Lei looked at her with a flat expression. 'That reaction seems slightly exaggerated.'
"Get over it, Bing'er," Su Tianhao said, with the indifference of someone filing a minor inconvenience and moving on. He flicked his sleeves and turned toward the entrance. "You don't want to cause a scene outside the Martial Hall."
Wang Bing pressed her lips together, composed herself with visible effort, and followed.
Su Lei grinned.
"What are you smiling at?" She punched his shoulder with more force than strictly necessary. He winced. She walked past him without looking back.
Su Lei rubbed his shoulder, expression wry, amusement intact. Although they had known each other for less than an hour, they had grown considerably familiar.
---
The interior was exactly what the exterior suggested—orderly, purposeful, and rich with accumulated knowledge.
Towering shelves lined the hall in clean rows, packed with scrolls and booklets catalogued by type and grade. Disciples moved between them in ones and twos, browsing and comparing. Attendants drifted through the aisles, available but unobtrusive.
What caught Su Tianhao's eye immediately was the old man in the wingback chair.
He was seated at the central reading desk with his legs crossed and a heavy tome open across his lap—a posture of someone entirely at home in a space they had long since claimed as their own. Long grey hair, neatly trimmed grey beard, weathered features dotted with the marks of age. His frame was broad and robust in the way of a man who had spent decades cultivating—the kind of vitality that lingered long after the urgency of youth was gone. But what was most distinct were his eyes—two black pupils like fine points in a field of white, currently fixed on the page before him.
"Who's that?" Wang Bing asked quietly.
"Not sure," Su Tianhao said. "Blue insignia, so he's an Outer Court Elder. But I can tell he's important."
"Speculating is pointless when you can just ask," Su Lei said, with the tone of someone presenting a simple solution to an unnecessary problem.
He turned to a nearby attendant without waiting for a response—a disciple who carried himself with a quiet authority that didn't announce itself. Su Lei offered a warm smile. "Hey, Senior."
The attendant turned, assessed the three of them briefly, then brightened. "The new prodigies. All three of you—nice to meet you. I'm Chen Rui."
"Nice to meet you, Senior Brother Chen," Su Lei said.
"Same," Wang Bing said warmly.
Su Tianhao gave a brief nod. "Senior." The man was 3rd Level Martial Core Realm expert—clearly from the Baiyin Quarters, older in both years and cultivation. The respect was appropriate regardless of the raw difference in power.
Chen Rui's smile widened. "I expected more arrogance, honestly. Everyone's saying this cohort is the best the sect has seen in a long time."
"How did you recognize us?" Su Lei asked.
"New faces with cultivation bases like yours aren't difficult to place." He glanced between Su Tianhao and Wang Bing. "9th Level and 7th Level Martial Adept—first and third place, fairly obvious. As for you—" his eyes moved to Su Lei—"silver hair isn't common. People have been talking about the silver-haired swordsman who beat a 3rd Level Martial Adept despite being at the 1st Level."
Su Lei scratched the back of his head.
"Anyway—what did you need?"
Su Lei's expression turned careful. He cut a glance toward the old man in the chair and lowered his voice. "Senior Brother Chen—who is that?"
Chen Rui followed the look. Then dropped his own voice by a full notch.
"Elder Cang Mu. The most reclusive elder on the Silverblade Peak." He paused, clearly choosing his words. "He wanted to be an imperial scholar in his youth—sat the exam three times and failed every one. Turned to cultivation instead. These days he practically lives in the Martial Hall—has formal authority over it—and his spiritual sense covers the entire building."
His eyes moved sideways.
"Every corner. Every conversation."
As if in response, Elder Cang Mu raised his head from the tome. Those small, dark pupils turned toward them with unhurried precision.
Chen Rui flinched. "Don't look at him—come with me. Now!"
He moved quickly toward the nearest shelf. Su Lei and Wang Bing followed without hesitation, pulled along by the particular urgency of someone who knew the consequences better than they did.
Su Tianhao didn't move.
He turned to Elder Cang Mu instead.
Their eyes met across the hall—vibrant gold, quiet black. A stillness settled between them, unhurried on both sides. Several seconds passed. Then Elder Cang Mu's lips curved—barely, precisely—before he lowered his gaze back to the page.
Su Tianhao studied him for one more moment.
Then joined the others.
Chen Rui pulled him behind the shelf the instant he arrived. "Didn't you hear me? I can't afford a scolding this morning."
Su Tianhao moved his arm free. "He didn't press."
Chen Rui exhaled through his nose. "You're lucky. Now—why are you here?"
"Techniques," Wang Bing said, her soothing voice settling the atmosphere the way it often did. "Martial arts, possibly a cultivation method."
Chen Rui's expression shifted into something more thoughtful. "I recommend the second floor. The first floor only has Mortal Rank techniques—open to all, but mainly suited for Wildbamboo Grounds disciples. Stonehaven Grove placement gives you access to the second floor. Spirit Rank techniques are kept there."
Su Lei's eyes lit up.
"Please come with us, Senior Brother Chen," he said. "An experienced eye would help."
Chen Rui straightened, something between duty and genuine interest crossing his face. "Of course. It's my job anyway."