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Chapter 18 - Stroke of Luck or Stroke of Misfortune?

"Hey, isn't that Mo Zhiran? What's he doing here?"

"Yeah, wasn't he wanted by the Disciplinary Committee? How can he just roam around like this?"

"Hehe… someone who can beat up Wu Kang must have connections, too. Why are you so surprised?"

"Tch… he used a talisman, remember? Even I could beat that guy if I used one. What's so great about it?"

"Oh? Did you just say you could beat Wu Kang? Want me to tell him?"

"Shhhh… I'm joking… joking… why are you so serious?"

"Haha…"

As soon as Zhiran appeared at the tall Martial Pavilion at the center of the outer sect, he was immediately bombarded by the hustle and bustle of the countless disciples coming to and fro from the building. 

More importantly, the topic instantly shifted to him once everyone saw him, fine and composed.

Although the outer courtyard of the Divine Cauldron sect was big, it wasn't so big that the news couldn't fly around. 

The hottest topic right now in the sect was how an early Qi Condensation disciple beat the shit out of Wu Kang, who was at the mid-stage Qi Condensation realm. 

The same Wu Kang, who was the younger brother of Wu Zhen, one of the top disciples of the outer sect. 

Maybe someone with a motive was fanning the flame behind, every disciple knew about Zhiran's deed already. 

In such a boring cultivation journey, such big news was like a hot potato. It was instantly consumed by everyone. 

How could they not talk about it?

"Elder, I want to enter the Martial Pavilion. This is my token."

But Zhiran didn't care, as what they did was none of his concern.

Even after being reborn, he couldn't remember a single one of them, which spoke volumes about their role in his life. They weren't even side characters.

Why would he care what they thought?

So, he ignored thier gossip, came to the small room beside the pavilion before giving his outer sect token to the dozing elder in front. 

He had already registered himself as a late-stage Qi Condensation cultivator at the Affairs Hall. So, all he needed to do was to show it to this old man before being able to access the place. 

"Hmm?"

The dozing elder heard Zhiran and opened his eyes slowly before focusing on the token given to him.

"Whoa? You are...Mo Zhiran?"

However, after he read the information inside, he seemed a little shocked as he looked at him in surprise. 

"The one who's the talk of the town right now?"

He asked again while caressing his white beard with interest, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly as if judging Zhiran's qualification. 

After all, according to the rumour, it was clearly mentioned that Zhiran was in the early stage of the Qi Condensation realm. 

But looking at the token...

"Yes, Elder, I am the same one. Can I enter the pavilion now?"

Zhiran wasn't in the mood to entertain the elder and asked again.

"Haha...good, good, good."

But Elder clearly had another plan as he suddenly laughed while playing with the token in his hand. 

 It was as if he were happy that Zhiran was a hidden genius.

After laughing for a bit, Elder finally calmed down, grabbed his long beard, and whispered to Zhiran with a little twinkle in his eyes.

"Say, kid, since I find you to my liking, I decided to help you out of my goodwill. Do you want to get a good martial arts as your foundation?"

He asked in a low voice so that only he and Zhiran could hear.

"If you want to, how about I help you out for free? If you show enough talent, I might even accept you as my disciple."

He said with a smile while his eyes looked almost doting. It seemed as if he was impressed by Zhiran and wanted to invest in him early on.

Then, as if he was afraid that Zhiran would be too ashamed to take advantage of the old man, he pointed at the empty jar right next to him, before saying nonchalantly.

"If you feel too indebted, you can just buy me a few jars of Spirit Dew to show some respect. What do you think?"

He smiled, stroking his long white beard as he studied Zhiran, like an elder searching for a spark of excitement on the young man's face.

After all, unlike other places, Martial Pavilion was different, as the one guarding it was the real elder of the Divine Cauldron sect. 

Everyone knew he was someone with good strength and a mysterious background in the outer sect. 

Any disciple who caught his attention like this would be overjoyed, certain that good fortune had come their way.

So, he was waiting for Zhiran to jump in joy and offer him a few jars of Spirit Dew in gratitude.

Only, Zhiran looked as calm as ever, with no trace of excitement in his eyes.

Instead, he seemed almost… annoyed?

"Thank you, Elder, for your kind words. But I don't like to take advantage of the old men, and I have no money to buy any Spirit Dew. I am too poor."

Zhiran, although annoyed inside, slightly bowed to the smiling elder in front with a face of apology. 

Then, he immediately looked at the token in his hand before asking for it again, 

"Can I take my token back now? I think others are waiting for thier turn."

He signalled at a few disciples behind who seemed to be waiting for him to leave.

Throughout the process, he didn't show any excitement as the elder had thought he would. 

How could he?

Especially when he was thoroughly scammed by this old man in his previous life. 

If he still believed those flimsy words and expected to be the fortunate hero of some story, he might as well die in a spoonful of water.

'Heh… a few jars of Spirit Dew to show respect? Do you know how much that would cost? I'd rather throw the Spirit Stone than buy you some wine, old man.'

Lucien almost gnashed his teeth in anger as he remembered a stupid episode from his previous life.

Back then, he was approached by this same old man. Only, his reaction was lukewarm, and the respect the elder asked for was just a single jar of Spirit Dew.

But because of the elder's mysterious aura, and remembering the ridiculous plot he had read before, Lucien thought his luck had finally arrived.

So he spent every bit of his savings to buy that jar of wine and handed it over.

And what did he get in return?

Swoosh!

"Elder, it's getting late. I'll just choose a technique inside the pavilion. Don't worry, I know the rules."

Remembering that ridiculous episode, Zhiran felt so annoyed he didn't even want to look at the smug expression on the old man's face.

So, to the astonishment of the crowd, he directly rushed forward, snatched his token from the elder's hand, and strode straight into the pavilion.

He didn't want to waste a single minute listening to that man's rant.

"H-how rude!"

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