Daoist Cen, whose surname is Cen and given name is Zheng, is an elder of the Lingxu Sect.

He is much older than Zhang Jingmo, and is currently in the late Golden Core stage.

However, he has been in the late Golden Core stage for over six hundred years without forming a Nascent Soul, and his remaining lifespan is not much.

Perhaps due to his strong desire for the Dao, Cen Zheng's temperament has become increasingly eccentric in recent years. He rarely interacts with others, and never attends to matters in person unless necessary.

Usually, his elixirs are delivered by his young disciples. This time, who knows what got into him, as he actually came to the door himself.

Cen Zheng said, "Fellow Daoist Zhang, I have a request. I don't know if..."

Zhang Jingmo knew what he was going to say before Cen Zheng could finish. He interrupted, "If Fellow Daoist Cen is here for the Primordial Cyan Pill, I'm afraid I'm willing but unable to help."

Cen Zheng's face darkened. His expression was already cold to begin with, and now it looked even more gloomy. He said, "It seems that Fellow Daoist Zhang is unwilling to give me this face."

Zhang Jingmo still showed no reaction. He knew the path this person would take in the future. Either his lifespan would be exhausted before forming a Nascent Soul and he would perish, or he would fall into the demonic path and be slain by the righteous path. In over a hundred and twenty endings, there was no path of survival for Cen Zheng anyway.

The Heavenly Dao is hard to defy. Zhang Jingmo believed in fate, yet also did not.

He believed because in this endless cycle of reincarnation, he was like a rat in a jar, powerless to escape no matter what. He did not believe because even though he had failed countless times, he still wanted to struggle and never give up.

But for the gloomy-faced man before him, Zhang Jingmo obviously had no intention of defying the Heavens to change his fate. He said indifferently, "I don't know what face I'm not giving Fellow Daoist Cen, but I really can't afford to give it."

Cen Zheng's face twisted slightly.

Zhang Jingmo continued, "I refined three Primordial Cyan Pills, two of which I gave to the Sect Master. If Fellow Daoist Cen wants them, go ask the Sect Master for them." With that, he turned to leave.

Cen Zheng knew Zhang Jingmo was mocking him. His relationship with the Sect Master had always been cold. If he went to ask, not only would he not get the pills, he would also be subjected to ridicule.

Zhang Jingmo had only taken two steps when he heard Cen Zheng's voice again. But what Cen Zheng said this time made his eyes turn cold.

Cen Zheng said, "Fellow Daoist Zhang, if I remember correctly, you have a four-year-old little disciple, right?"

Zhang Jingmo's footsteps halted.

Cen Zheng continued, "And if I remember correctly, in twelve years, it will be the Xuanwu Conference?"

Zhang Jingmo already knew what Cen Zheng wanted to say.

Cen Zheng said, "Do you know that I have a disciple who entered the Dao at six years old and is now at the fourth level of Qi Refining?"

Of course Zhang Jingmo knew. Not only did he know, the entire Lingxu Sect knew - Cen Zheng had a genius disciple who entered the Dao at six and took only five years to reach the fourth level of Qi Refining.

But so what?

Zhang Jingmo stood still, neither continuing to walk nor turning back.

Cen Zheng thought Zhang Jingmo was afraid but couldn't turn back to save face. He sneered and said, "Tell me, at that Xuanwu Conference, how many lots do you think your little disciple can draw?"

Drawing lots was the method of assessing disciples at the Xuanwu Conference.

Cen Zheng continued, "Tell me, if during the lot drawing, your disciple suddenly faints and falls into that bottomless cold abyss..."

Every year at the Xuanwu Conference, there were disciples who died due to accidents. If this really happened, the disciple who caused trouble might be punished, but not too heavily.

Because the cultivation world was such a dog-eat-dog place. If you couldn't even pass this hurdle, you had no right to live.

Zhang Jingmo said, "So what does Fellow Daoist Cen mean?"

Cen Zheng said, "You still don't understand my meaning? If you still have that remaining Primordial Cyan Pill, give it to me and I will repay you handsomely. If you've already taken it, then refine another batch for me..."

Zhang Jingmo said, "Fellow Daoist Cen, the day doesn't seem to have dawned yet."

Cen Zheng was startled, not understanding what Zhang Jingmo meant.

Zhang Jingmo sneered, "No wonder, you look like you're dreaming, talking nonsense in your sleep."

Cen Zheng glared fiercely, his eyes bulging as he roared, "You're so ungrateful! Zhang Jingmo, when your disciple gets in trouble, come cry to me then!"

Zhang Jingmo laughed loudly. "Cry? I, Zhang Jingmo, have lived for so many years and have never cried. But I must remind you, if your precious disciple gets in trouble, don't come to me to wipe your tears."

With that, he walked away, coldly tossing two words at Cen Zheng: "I won't see you out!"

Having been ridiculed like this, Cen Zheng naturally had no reason to stay. He swung his sleeve and flew away on the wind, looking quite angered by Zhang Jingmo.

Zhang Jingmo returned to the room and said to the pale-faced Mingyue, "Call Lu Guijiu here. You go rest and heal." He casually tossed Mingyue a bottle of healing elixir.

Mingyue saw that although Zhang Jingmo's face was expressionless, a hint of coldness flashed between his brows. He knew his master must also be quite angry. He acknowledged with a sound and carefully retreated from the room.

Zhang Jingmo propped his chin with his hand, recalling Cen Zheng's words. If Cen Zheng hadn't reminded him, he had almost forgotten such an important matter - the Xuanwu Conference.

Every twenty years, the Lingxu Sect would hold a Xuanwu Conference. At that time, all new disciples over the age of fifteen had to participate.

The most important event of the Xuanwu Conference was - drawing lots.

Bamboo slips with numbers written on them would be suspended on a giant stone floating in the air. The higher the number, the more difficult it was to obtain the slip. Within a month, the disciple who could obtain the slip with the highest number would be ranked higher.

And the top three disciples had the right to select three items from the Lingxu Sect's treasure vault. It could be techniques, spiritual energy, or even elixirs.

As long as you wanted it, you could have it.

Back then, Lu Guijiu had also participated in the Xuanwu Conference, but... he only got third place.

As for the reason why Lu Guijiu was ranked third, Zhang Jingmo pressed his temples, he couldn't quite remember... Because when Lu Guijiu participated in the Xuanwu Conference that year, his senior disciple had just returned from his travels.

Zhang Jingmo was busy refining elixirs and preparing magic weapons for his senior disciple, helping his disciple to cross tribulations and build a foundation, so how could he have the mind to care about the Xuanwu Conference.

Thinking of this, and then thinking of what Cen Zheng had just said, Zhang Jingmo suddenly felt a little angry - but he didn't know whether he was angry with Lu Guijiu or himself.

Lu Guijiu, who was called by Mingyue, knocked on the door outside, and then gently called out to his master.

Zhang Jingmo said, "Come in."

Lu Guijiu came in respectfully. When he came, Mingyue told him that Zhang Jingmo was in a bad mood and seemed to have something to say but stopped, not knowing what had happened.

Seeing that Lu Guijiu had come in, Zhang Jingmo didn't ask him to sit down as usual, but looked at his disciple expressionlessly. After Lu Guijiu felt a little uncomfortable, he called out, "Guijiu."

Lu Guijiu said, "Master... I don't know what you called me for?"

Zhang Jingmo said, "Guijiu, do you know which word your master hates the most?"

Lu Guijiu shook his head blankly.

Seeing this, Zhang Jingmo smiled, and his smile made Lu Guijiu inexplicably feel a little chilled. Then Lu Guijiu heard his master say gently, "Disciple, the word your master hates the most is 'second-rate'."

Lu Guijiu repeated blankly, "Second-rate?"

Zhang Jingmo said, "'Second-rate', with 'two' on the left and 'front' on the right, means not refined, not the first."

Lu Guijiu vaguely understood what Zhang Jingmo was going to say.

Zhang Jingmo stood up and walked in front of Lu Guijiu. He looked down at Lu Guijiu from a high position, neither picking up his disciple nor squatting down to look at him at eye level. His eyes were rarely cold, and he said, "Second-rate is something that is despised by the heavens."

Lu Guijiu looked up at his master and felt that his master was so unfamiliar at this moment.

Zhang Jingmo said, "Whatever you want, your master will give it to you. Spiritual energy, spiritual medicines, opportunities, and luck, whatever your master has, he can give it to you."

Lu Guijiu listened quietly.

Zhang Jingmo said, "Therefore, no matter what, you must do your best." It was not that Zhang Jingmo deliberately forced Lu Guijiu, but that the challenges Lu Guijiu would face in the future were too difficult, so difficult that even though Zhang Jingmo had been reborn more than 120 times and had taken countless opportunities, he still couldn't make it through.

Zhang Jingmo said, "You can hide your skills in front of others, but let your master know your best side."

Lu Guijiu nodded. He didn't know what exactly Zhang Jingmo had encountered, but he was very clear that at this time, he only needed to agree. He had a feeling that if he hesitated slightly at this time, the person in front of him might not want him anymore.

Zhang Jingmo was satisfied to see Lu Guijiu nod in agreement.

The child's eyes in front of him were still full of confusion, without the firmness of the future, nor the silence of the future, but the shadow of the person who would dominate the world could already be vaguely seen.

After getting the answer, Zhang Jingmo's eyes softened. He stroked Lu Guijiu's head and gently called out, "Guijiu."

Lu Guijiu knew that his beloved master was back.

Zhang Jingmo bent down and picked Lu Guijiu up from the ground, and then asked him carefully if there was anything he didn't understand during his cultivation. Lu Guijiu answered obediently. He didn't ask his master what exactly had happened, nor did he ask the questions he hadn't figured out.

Zhang Jingmo knew that he had a precocious disciple, but at least for now, he felt that Lu Guijiu's precocity was a good thing. Although deep in his heart, Zhang Jingmo felt a little uneasy. He knew that he seemed to be raising a giant beast, but he couldn't be sure whether in the end the giant beast would help him break through the shackles or swallow him whole.