Jingyuan has not had a good time in the past three months.
He was a handyman, and he had to do a lot of things every day, such as chopping wood and pouring water. Moreover, he was skinny, so all the dirty and tiring work was thrown at him. Where did he find the time to practice?
But he was ruthless. With the help of the pills given by Zhu Yuanqing, he survived the most difficult first two days. Later, he squeezed out his time and bit those who made things difficult for him like a mad dog. Whenever he had time, he would run to the place where the outer disciples were teaching.
At first, it wasn't that no one followed him, but his gray servant's coat was too eye-catching, and many outer disciples looked down on him. Even the monks who were teaching were looking at them openly or covertly.
Those who came along were just there on a whim, but after a few days they settled down to do their own things, so Jing Yuan was the only one left who attended the classes every day.
He got up early and went to bed late, and could only sleep for a few hours every day. Despite the open and implicit ridicule of others, he stepped onto the stage of the sect competition.
The sect divided the competition into literary and martial arts competitions. Jing Yuan's literary results were not yet released, but in the martial arts competition, he had already defeated several outer disciples.
At this time, everyone looked at the gray-faced little servant and suddenly realized that this man had drawn energy into his body without knowing when, and was far superior to the group of servants.
You know, some outer disciples haven't even touched the threshold of drawing Qi into their bodies.
Jingyuan has already played four games.
New disciples couldn't even learn any advanced spells, so being able to wield a few water swords or wooden vines was already a remarkable achievement.
Therefore, Jing Yuan was not seriously injured. He only had some scars on his body caused by those overt and covert spells, but they were not as serious as the injuries he suffered on the day he became a disciple.
However, the spiritual energy in his body has been exhausted, and the physical strength of an ordinary Qigong practitioner is not enough to support him in the next competition.
He has been eye-catching enough today, at least he has met the standards of an outer disciple. The most appropriate choice is to step down and leave before he is exhausted.
"Hey, isn't this the servant of our Xuanyuan Sect? Where are you going?"
A nonchalant voice reached his ears, Jing Yuan's heart sank, and he looked at the person who came.
Four or five gorgeously dressed disciples blocked the stairs to the arena, just blocking his way out.
The one in the lead was wearing the attire of an inner sect disciple, and the people behind him were outer sect disciples, wearing gold and silver jewelry, and were wealthy people in the secular world.
The leading inner sect disciple took two steps forward, passed Jing Yuan, and stepped onto the ring. He greeted the elder on the ring, "Disciple Yu Junjie, I would like to compete with this junior brother. Is that possible?"
The elder, who was already old, raised his eyelids and said, "Yes."
Afterwards, the pressure from the foundation-building cultivator rushed straight towards Jing Yuan, and with a hurricane, he was already standing on the stage.
The elder glanced at the audience and closed his eyes again.
Cui Yi sneered and looked at the arena leisurely, already imagining the miserable plight of the servant.
"beat!"
“Hit me!”
"Show him some color!"
There was a lot of noise from the audience. As the gongs and drums sounded, Yu Junjie pulled out a dagger inlaid with gold and silver, wrapped it in spiritual energy, and rushed towards Jing Yuan.
His spiritual energy was much more condensed than those of the previous disciples. His eyes were glaring, and he looked very imposing.
On the contrary, Jing Yuan opposite him was in a mess, unable to even stand steadily, and looked like he had no power to resist.
The winner of this competition was almost clear, and everyone was looking at the ring.
Jing Yuan stared at the person who rushed towards him with his dark eyes as dark as a ghost. He dug one hand into the bloody crack of his palm, and his newly grown nails stirred in the flesh.
He was in so much pain that his eyes went dark, but at least he managed to pull back his thoughts that were about to dissipate.
Mobilizing the last bit of spiritual energy in his body, Jing Yuan threw out a pitch-black object and then rushed forward.
The thing was black and round, with a very smooth surface, and it carried a wave of spiritual energy as it flew over quickly.
Yu Junjie's heart trembled, thinking of the several kinds of hidden weapons that the teacher had repeatedly reminded him of in class.
He subconsciously dodged to the side and changed the direction of the dagger in his hand, but he still protected his body well.
But he didn't expect that this guy would rush straight up to him, not caring about the dagger in front of him, punching him in the vulnerable abdomen with one fist and hitting the acupuncture points on his body with the other hand.
Yu Junjie lost consciousness and fell to the ground.
He was lying on the ground, and out of the corner of his eye he saw that damn servant pulled out the dagger from his abdomen and held it in front of him as if he felt no pain at all.
The black thing fell right in front of him. It was clearly a mixture of coal and some other random things. How could it be a hidden weapon?
Yu Junjie was so angry that he was shaking all over.
Jing Yuan turned around and asked the elder, "Did I win?"
The whole audience was silent.
The elder frowned, glanced at the audience again, then closed his eyes, thinking he would not see anything, and said in a deep voice, "Jing Yuan wins."
Jing Yuan held the dagger that was still dripping with blood, followed the elder's gaze, and saw Cui Yi with a grim expression.
He didn't care about the wound on his abdomen, straightened his back, walked down the ring step by step, and disappeared in front of everyone.
Walking to a corner where no one was around, Jing Yuan covered his chest with his hands and couldn't hold it in any longer, spitting out large mouthfuls of red blood onto the ground.
With a trembling hand, Jing Yuan reached into his chest, took out a porcelain bottle, poured out the last pill, and swallowed it down his throat.
The exquisite and luxurious porcelain vase was stained red with blood. Jing Yuan wiped it carefully with his sleeve, put the bottle against his chest, walked around it a few times, and then went into a dense forest.
He leaned against a tree as thick as an adult, trying hard to absorb spiritual energy while being careful of the movements around him.
He knew that those people would not let him go so easily, and they might have already blocked his way back.
Cui Yi is the son of the master of Wuxiang Peak. The people in his residence would not offend him for a small servant like him. If Jing Yuan goes back now, he would be like a sheep walking into the tiger's mouth.
Jing Yuan was already careful enough, but he forgot that the master of Wuxiang Peak was good at refining weapons, and Cui Yi had no shortage of spiritual weapons to find people. In just half a minute, more than ten people surrounded him.
Laughter, scolding, and cursing continued to the ears. He lay on the ground, holding the porcelain bottle tightly against his chest, feeling his fingers being crushed one by one, and fainted and woke up again.
He didn't say a word, which made Cui Yi even more angry.
"He's just a servant..." Cui Yi held a dagger, pointing the tip of the knife at his neck, where blood was already oozing.
"Since it's an eyesore, then..."
There was a violent sound of wind, followed by several tragic screams, and bodies fell to the ground, making sounds of bones breaking.
The white robe fluttered, and the pressure from the Nascent Soul cultivator pushed everyone present straight into the ground. Zhu Yuanqing's voice was cold and sharp, with suppressed anger.
"This year's batch of disciples is truly beyond our expectations!"
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