Chapter 172: The Chubby, Foolish Round Face
This novel is translated and hosted only on BCatranslation
“Is this about the Great Competition in the cultivation world?” Jie Tan asked, his voice steady.
Jie Chen shook his head but didn’t say a word.
With a soft smile, Jie Tan added, “Things will happen as they’re meant to. We should just let them unfold naturally.”
Jie Chen nodded, but his hands kept moving his prayer beads. After a moment, he couldn’t hold back his concern. “Senior Brother, I’m worried that Silent might be in trouble.”
A month ago, Silent insisted on going to the Achievement Pavilion alone. Jie Chen had tried to talk him out of it, but Silent’s stubbornness eventually won. As soon as Silent left, Jie Chen regretted letting him go.
Silent hadn’t been practicing Silent Meditation for long, and his mind was still easily disturbed. If someone provoked him, he might lose his temper quickly. The thought made Jie Chen shudder; he didn’t want to think about what could happen next.
Jie Tan stayed calm and tried to reassure him. “You’re worrying too much, Junior Brother. Silent has a good nature; he’ll manage to keep his emotions in check.”
Jie Chen wasn’t so sure. He felt like his Senior Brother didn’t fully understand Silent. When Silent got angry, he spoke without thinking. If he could control his temper, he wouldn’t need Silent Meditation in the first place.
Seeing that Jie Tan had closed his eyes to recite scriptures, Jie Chen decided to keep his worries to himself.
Meanwhile, Tang Rui landed with a thud in front of Silent, having jumped down from the second floor, his face twisted in anger.
“You bald monk, say that again, I dare you! I’ll skin you alive and use you for lamp oil!” he shouted, his voice full of fury.
Silent just stared back, unbothered. “Round face, chubby, pale, and dumb—why don’t you just roll away?” he replied, cleverly rhyming his insult.
The rhyme was so catchy that the people watching had to hold back their laughter, letting out only awkward snorts and chuckles.
Tang Rui’s face turned an ugly shade of green. He pulled out three needles, his eyes full of deadly intent. “You bald monk, I’ll kill you!”
“Stop!”
Just as Tang Rui was about to throw his needles, a cultivator dressed in the robes of the Achievement Pavilion hurried over.
He scanned the crowd, and his presence alone demanded respect. “Fighting is forbidden in Yan Yi City.”
He didn’t need to use any spiritual power to make his point clear. Everyone immediately realized that this man was a Nascent Soul Elder from the Achievement Pavilion.
Tang Rui knew he had to respect the Elder’s authority and hesitated, though he was reluctant to back down.
“Senior, I didn’t mean to start trouble. This bald… monk started it by insulting me!” he complained.
The Nascent Soul Elder turned his stern gaze to Silent.
Silent, in his white robes, looked peaceful and enlightened, especially as he remained silent.
In response to the Elder’s questioning look, Silent simply bowed respectfully.
“Amitabha. This humble monk, Silent, greets Senior.”
The Elder’s expression softened slightly at the greeting, but it hardened again when he looked back at Tang Rui.
“Slandering others will only add to your offenses. If you cause any more trouble, you’ll be kicked out of Yan Yi City and lose your chance to compete,” he warned.
Tang Rui felt like crying but held back, knowing better than to argue with a Nascent Soul Elder. Deep down, he began to really resent Silent and Yu Zhao.
Silent deserved to suffer, and so did the woman who was with him.
He swore that if they met in the individual competition, he would teach them the true meaning of regret.
Upstairs in the teahouse, Yao Ji and Wan Ren Zhan were just as angry with Silent as Tang Rui was.
Silent had humiliated them in front of everyone. If they let such an insult go, it would be as if they were already dead, forgotten even by scavengers.
Yu Zhao, who had appeared with Silent, was now also a target of their vengeance.
They knew that if they wanted to completely eliminate the threat, they would have to deal with both Silent and Yu Zhao.
Unaware of the hostility she and Silent had sparked, Yu Zhao left the area with him after the Elder departed. Their earlier confrontation had taught everyone a lesson; no one dared to mock or stop them as they left. The crowd could only watch with mixed emotions.
The image of Silent, the monk who wouldn’t back down, was now deeply etched in their minds.
After leaving the city, Silent suddenly stopped and turned to Yu Zhao, his expression apologetic.
“The three people I offended aren’t nice at all. I’m worried they might start disliking you too because of me. It’s my fault,” Silent admitted, looking genuinely concerned.
Even though he had enjoyed insulting those individuals at the moment, he regretted it after cooling down. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he was by himself, but Yu Zhao had been right there with him.
Those three were the kind of people who wouldn’t forget a grudge, and now Yu Zhao was in their sights, through no fault of her own.
Yu Zhao, however, was calm. “Master Silent, you don’t need to worry about me. I would’ve faced them sooner or later. It was bound to happen and doesn’t change what’s coming.”
Silent was surprised by her response.
“You’re here for the individual competition, not the group one with your sect?”
“Yes.”
“But…”
Silent wanted to ask why she wasn’t representing her sect, given that she was clearly a sect disciple. But considering they had just met, he decided it wasn’t his place to ask.
Yu Zhao didn’t seem eager to explain either. “Let’s keep moving. I need to reach the Achievement Pavilion before they close registration for the individual competition.”
“Alright.”
Though Yu Zhao appeared unconcerned, Silent felt responsible for the potential trouble he had caused her. He followed her quietly, speaking less than usual.
After traveling for two more days, they finally reached the Achievement Pavilion just as the sun was setting.
There was a long line outside the pavilion, and the air buzzed with the excited chatter and noises of many people, creating a lively atmosphere.
“May I ask if you two are here for the individual competition or the sect competition?” a disciple from the Achievement Pavilion approached them, noticing the striking pair.
“Individual competition,” Yu Zhao said.
“Sect competition,” Silent responded at the same time.
The disciple looked between them, confused by their different answers.
“So, you’re not together then.”
“Senior Brother, please wait here a moment,” the disciple said, then called to another. “Could you take this Senior Brother to the rest area for his sect?”
“Yes, Senior Brother, please follow me,” the other disciple said to Silent.
Silent turned to Yu Zhao, who nodded at him.
He then placed his palms together, bowed deeply to her, and followed the younger disciple.
Yu Zhao was directed by another disciple to the end of another line.
The individual competition required a preliminary test conducted by the host sect. This year, participants needed to strike a bell. Only those who could make the bell ring and pass a bone age test were eligible to register.
The Achievement Pavilion was known for its skilled artifact crafting, and the bells they created were not simple for just any cultivator to ring. To even qualify, one needed to be at the late stage of Foundation Establishment.
This novel is translated and hosted only on BCatranslation
Moreover, the strength of the bell ring mattered too.
A cultivator at the late stage of Foundation Establishment might manage to make the bell sound, but causing it to ring clearly and sustain the sound required greater personal strength.
As Yu Zhao stood at the end of the line, she scanned the area with her spiritual senses and quickly figured out the procedure.
She was confident she could ring the bell without issue. The real challenge for her was making the ring last longer and resonate further.
As she waited, the bell’s deep tones reverberated through the air. The line slowly moved forward, punctuated by the occasional departure of a cultivator who had failed, their disappointment casting a pall over those still waiting. Some competitors were already so anxious that their hands were sweating and their backs soaked with nervous sweat.
Dong—