He Isn’t Worthy!
1625 Words
Chu Ran stood coldly to the side, his pale, slender hand gripping Wang Mang’s fist.
Under the sunlight, his somewhat pallid fingers appeared nearly translucent.
A gust of wind swept by, making his robes billow dramatically and his long sleeves sway gently.
The disdain in Wang Mang’s eyes was unmistakable. With a fearless expression, he glared at Chu Ran and shouted, “Come on!”
He slapped his own chest forcefully with one hand, thumping it loudly. “Hit here! Hard!”
The mockery on his face was blatant.
Nearby, the tall, thin man took a deep breath and closed his eyes slightly.
Idiot! he cursed inwardly, still provoking at a time like this!
Does he want to die faster?
For a moment, a surge of violent rage rose within the tall, thin man. He almost wished that troublesome, reckless barbarian would just die!
Faced with Wang Mang’s reckless provocation, Chu Ran’s expression remained unchanged, his gaze indifferent and detached.
Unmoved, he stood tall and straight like a slender bamboo.
His features were delicate, with a spiritual aura gathered between his brows, reminiscent of an orchid.
The onlookers around, observing his elegant demeanor, inwardly praised, What an exceptionally graceful and noble young man! His composure is remarkable. That oaf’s provocation and recklessness would have angered even a saint.
Yet this youth showed not the slightest change in expression, not even a flicker in his eyes.
Someone so young, yet as steady as a Taoist priest in his seventies or eighties. With such mental fortitude, his future will be extraordinary!
At that moment—
Before the Jade Glory Hall of the Shangqing Sect.
“Changhe, I think this boy is suited to learn your ‘Meditation Sutra,’” said Immortal Yueci in crimson robes, smiling at the handsome, white-haired man in snow-white garments beside him.
Hearing this, Immortal Changhe fixed his gaze on an ancient bronze mirror suspended ahead, his eyes resting on the tall, composed, and coldly elegant figure of Chu Ran within the mirror. He remained silent.
Before the Jade Glory Hall,
An ancient bronze mirror, about a person’s height and a foot wide, hung in mid-air.
The frame was bronze, carved with a scene of a hundred birds paying homage to a phoenix.
The mirror’s surface was bright and clear, vividly reflecting the standoff between Chu Ran, the burly man, and others.
The conversation between the two also reached the ears of the assembled immortals present without missing a word.
This was a magical artifact of the Shangqing Sect, known as the Mirror of Heaven and Earth.
It could observe the cosmos and know all matters under heaven.
Ten thousand years later, the Shangqing Sect still possessed such a mirror, also called the Mirror of Heaven and Earth, though that one was a replica. The original was destroyed during the war of deification.
After a long pause, Immortal Changhe’s cool, faint voice was heard: “He and I are different.”
Though he said this, his phoenix eyes remained fixed on Chu Ran in the mirror.
Seeing this, Immortal Yueci knew very well that he was already interested.
Thus, he said with a smile, “How are you different? You are the chief immortal of the Meditation Peak of our Shangqing Sect, and he is a disciple seeking to join our sect. One lacks a disciple, the other a good teacher. Aren’t you two a perfect match made in heaven?”
“……” The Shangqing Sect disciples standing rigidly behind the two immortals.
They nearly shed tears inwardly. Immortal Yueci, that’s not how “match made in heaven” is used!
What if Immortal Changhe takes it seriously?
After all, everyone knew that he was innocent, unworldly, and… his intelligence was, well, touching.
Although, the disciples also suspected that Immortal Yueci’s use of “match made in heaven” raised doubts about his own intelligence.
The disciples stood straight-backed, faces composed, expressions serious, gazing ahead.
Exuding the demeanor of elite disciples.
However, the corners of their eyes stole glances toward Immortal Changhe on the left.
And sure enough!
The incomparably handsome white-haired immortal wore a thoughtful expression.
“!!!!!!” The disciples.
Oh no!
I knew it…
Immortal Changhe would definitely take it seriously.
What a disaster!
The disciples immediately wore mournful expressions, their gazes shifting to the cold youth on the Mirror of Heaven and Earth.
They prayed inwardly, hoping this youth was clever and intelligent.
At least… that could somewhat compensate for the master’s touching intelligence—the disciple making up for it.
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At the foot of the mountain,
The crowd watched the standoff between Chu Ran and Wang Mang, scrutinizing Chu Ran. They saw his slender build, thin arms and legs that seemed as if they would snap with a twist, especially his pale, bloodless face and even his lips tinged with a faint bluish hue.
The appearance of a chronic illness, delicate as a woman.
How much strength could such a youth have in his fists?
Suddenly understanding, they turned to look at Wang Mang—tall, brawny, with a face full of rough flesh, built like an ox.
They thought inwardly, although this fool speaks without thinking and deserves a beating, his words do hold some truth.
Still too young and impulsive! they thought, overconfident.
No one believed in Chu Ran’s eye-for-an-eye approach. Physique was innate, and the gap was not something human effort could bridge.
Immediately, sighs echoed around.
Some even spoke up, “Friend, one punch is letting him off too easy! How about a sword instead?”
“Friend, don’t be reckless. There’s no need to be polite with such a rude, barbaric, and crude person!”
“…”
Young Master Zhao, who had been standing behind Chu Ran all along, stared at the thin, cold figure ahead. Hearing the noisy chatter around, a surge of blood rushed to his head.
An inexplicable, stirring emotion welled up within him, prompting him to turn around. His gaze sharp, expression stern, he fixed his eyes on a richly dressed young man behind him.
That young man had never seen him look so… serious and was instantly startled.
“M-m-m… Master, why are you looking at me like that!?” he stammered, voice trembling.
Zhao Sizhuo remained silent, face somber.
Only his sharp, penetrating gaze bore into him.
“…” The lackey.
#Holy crap! My young master is staring at me with a vicious, dog-like glare—scaring me to death! What do I do? Urgent, waiting online!#
Just as the richly dressed young man, intimidated by his fearsome gaze, felt his legs go weak and almost knelt with a thud—
Zhao Sizhuo moved.
He moved!
He stepped forward, then reached toward the richly dressed young man’s waist—
The richly dressed young man’s vision nearly darkened. Oh s**t!
Young master, what are you doing to me!
Then came the sound…
Clang—
The ring of a blade being drawn.
A cold, silvery light dazzled the eyes.
Zhao Sizhuo, expressionless, held the drawn long sword, its edge sharp, its gleam chilling.
He stared at the blade in his hand. The silver-white surface reflected sunlight, the cold, sharp glint dazzling.
Through the blade, he saw his own impassive face.
Holding the long sword, Young Master Zhao examined his handsome, extraordinary face, nodding slightly in satisfaction. Puffing out his chest proudly, he thought, I didn’t expect I could look quite imposing when serious!
He was quite pleased with his own heroic act, but pitied the richly dressed young man before him who had been disarmed.
Seeing Zhao Sizhuo’s terrifying expression, having drawn his sword, holding the gleaming weapon, and looking murderously at him—
Thinking he had somehow offended the young master and was about to be silenced—
He was nearly scared out of his wits.
Then came a “thud—”
Why are my legs out of control—
The richly dressed young man instantly knelt before Zhao Sizhuo, face pale.
Hearing the noise, Zhao Sizhuo finally looked away from the sword. He glanced curiously at the kneeling young man and said, puzzled, “What are you doing?”
The richly dressed young man immediately opened his mouth, ready to wail—
“No need to be so stingy! I’m just borrowing your sword,” Zhao Sizhuo said. “I’ll return it in a bit.”
“…”
The richly dressed young man, about to bawl “Spare me, young master! Have mercy!” suddenly felt a breath stuck in his throat, unable to come out or go down.
His face turned red from the strain.
His mind filled with… Holy crap!
Young master, can’t you just ask if you want to borrow a sword?
Why act like you’re about to s*******r my whole family!
Scared the hell out of me!
Having escaped death, safe and sound, overwhelmed by the swing from despair to relief, the richly dressed young man shed tears.
Zhao Sizhuo was startled and said, “Whoa! No need to be so stingy! It’s just borrowing your sword, not stealing your woman. Why cry so sadly?”
“There, there. I’ll get you a new one later,” Zhao Sizhuo said.
Then, he withdrew his gaze.
After staring sharply at the long sword in his hand for a while, he lifted his head, expression serious.
He strode forward.
He came before Chu Ran, raised the long sword with both hands, and said earnestly, “Young Master Chu, use my sword! Don’t let such a lowly, rude person dirty your hands.”
After a pause, he glanced disdainfully at Wang Mang ahead and said contemptuously, “He isn’t worthy!”
Hearing this, Chu Ran turned and looked at him.
- Writer
