196: Chapter 196 The bell tolls, let him ring it.
Feng Qingyang was anxious.
He took a step forward, his fists clenching until they cracked.
"Junior Martial Uncle, he stole the Sect's Spiritual Vein, the evidence is irrefutable. If the other Old Ancestors find out, according to the Laws, he should have his cultivation crippled and be expelled from the Sect! Isn't it inappropriate for you to harbor him like this?"
Tangtang licked the sugar residue from the corner of her mouth and looked up at him.
She interrupted him: "I said, let him strike it."
Feng Qingyang was stunned.
Strike? Strike what?
Tangtang fished a second candied hawthorn from her sleeve, bit off a piece, and mumbled,
"The Sect has a legend. The person who can bind with the Spiritual Vein and ring the wendao bell solely with their Physical Body is the key to leading the Wendao Sect to dominate this realm."
Feng Qingyang's fist froze in mid-air, Ye Gucheng's gaze narrowed slightly, and the Peak Master of the Tenth Peak's hand, which had been stroking his beard, stopped.
They all knew this legend.
Since Wendao Palace was founded thousands of years ago, that bell had been struck by countless people.
Peak Masters had struck it, Elders had struck it, Prodigy Disciples had struck it, even the Sect Master had struck it.
No one could ring it relying solely on their Physical Body.
It required Qi, cultivation, and the activation of a Cultivation Technique.
But the legend said that one day, someone would come who would ring that bell relying not on cultivation, not on Qi, but only on their Physical Body and their bond with the Spiritual Vein.
That person would be the fated one the Wendao Palace had been waiting for for thousands of years.
Ye Gucheng fell silent for a moment and sheathed his sword.
The sound of the blade rubbing against the scabbard was exceptionally clear in the quiet Mine Tunnel.
He knew Tangtang's seniority and cultivation; once she had spoken, there was no room for negotiation.
Feng Qingyang wanted to say more, but seeing Ye Gucheng sheathe his sword, and then looking at the expressionless face of the Peak Master of the Tenth Peak, he swallowed the words that had reached his lips.
Chu Sheng was stunned.
He leaned against the wall of the Mine Tunnel, his body charred black.
He looked at Tangtang, and Tangtang looked back at him, tilting her head: "Aren't you fated with that bell? Go and strike it. If you ring it, I will let bygones be bygones. If you don't ring it..."
She didn't continue, but the meaning was clear.
If he didn't ring it, old debts and new accounts would be settled together.
Chu Sheng took a deep breath.
Dragging his injured body, he walked step by step toward the outside of the Mine Tunnel.
Behind him followed the three Spirit Nurturing Elders.
Further behind them were the Peak Masters and inner Sect Elders who had arrived one after another, dozens of people, walking majestically along the mountain path of Wendao Peak.
No one spoke; there was only the sound of footsteps and the rustling of clothing.
Feng Qingyang's face was dark, Ye Gucheng was expressionless, and the Peak Master of the Tenth Peak remained silent.
The Peak Masters of each peak looked at each other, not knowing what had happened, but seeing the expressions of the three big shots, no one dared to ask.
The news spread as if it had wings.
Outer Sect Disciples ran out of their stone houses, inner Sect Disciples poked their heads out of their Immortal Caves, no one was watching the Pill Furnace at the Alchemy Peak anymore, and the sound of hammers in the Sword Casting Valley stopped.
Everyone was asking the same question: who was that person covered in charred black, walking with a limp? What was he going to do?
Someone recognized Chu Sheng and exclaimed: "Isn't that Elder Chu from the outer Sect?"
Someone gasped: "Is that... Elder Feng, Elder Ye, and the Peak Master of the Tenth Peak following behind him?"
Someone's legs went weak: "Am I seeing things? Three Spirit Nurturing experts are clearing the way for him?"
Du Yu stood in the crowd, his face as pale as paper.
He watched Chu Sheng walk past him, but those eyes didn't even glance at him once.
But his legs were no longer obeying him, soft as two noodles.
He leaned against the stone wall beside him and slowly slid down to the ground.
Lin Xiao had already run away, running faster than a rabbit.
The Peak Master of the Eighteenth Peak looked at Yue Jianli beside him and muttered: "Li'er, I was wondering why you could take a fancy to him... You really have found an incredible Dao Companion."
Yue Jianli did not answer, only stood on tiptoes, looking at that figure with a nervous expression.
Ye Wuhen had a complex expression: "Chu Sheng... who exactly are you?"
On the square of Wendao Peak, that ancient bronze bell hung quietly on the high platform.
It had hung here for thousands of years, watching countless Geniuses come and go, and hearing countless bell tolls rise and fall.
Today, the person it was waiting for had arrived.
Chu Sheng walked to the front of the bell and reached out to press his hand against the bell body.
The copper rust was rough, making his palm ache.
He closed his eyes, urging the Duobao Heavenly Venerable within his body to the limit; that half-refined connection was vibrating, like a taut string.
It was not an inspection, but a wait.
In his Dantian, the flow of Luck bound to the Spiritual Vein surged violently into the wendao bell.
This was all the "nourishment" he had accumulated since the binding; every shred was poured into it.
He didn't know why he had to do this, but he felt that the bell was asking for it, yearning for it, like a starving person seeing a bowl of rice.
The bell body began to glow.
Chu Sheng grabbed the bell hammer.
That hammer was heavy, so heavy that even with his Palace Building Early Stage cultivation, he almost couldn't lift it.
He used all his strength, gripped the handle with both hands, and smashed it toward the wendao bell—
Dang!
The toll of the bell was grand.
It was not an ordinary sound, but a sound wave carrying the power of Law, spreading from the Wendao Peak square in all directions, sweeping across the Thirty-Six Peaks.
All Wendao Palace Disciples looked up simultaneously, their Divine Souls shaken.
Disciples below the Spirit Sea stage were directly stunned, their minds going blank.
Disciples above the Spirit Sea stage also felt restless, as if something in their bodies had been awakened.
Tangtang narrowed her eyes, took a bite of her candied hawthorn, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.
Chu Sheng did not stop.
He smashed down the second strike.
Dang—The bell toll was louder and further than the first, reaching beyond the Wendao mountain range.
The Wendao Palace's Sect-protecting Formation activated automatically, and three layers of Formations lit up at the same time.
The two red traits in Chu Sheng's body, Duobao Heavenly Venerable and Sect Binding, fired crazily, pouring all their power into the bell body.
The Restrictions on the wendao bell were unlocked layer by layer.
Those Seals placed by the Ancestral Master who founded the Sect thousands of years ago melted away like ice and snow in the vibration of the bell toll.
The connection between Chu Sheng and the bell changed from half to thirty percent, fifty percent, seventy percent.
He could feel the bell's "emotions," not joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness, but something deeper: recognition, or perhaps, allegiance.
The bell toll had not ceased.
When the third toll rang out, the entire Wendao Peak was shaking.
Cracks appeared in the stone slabs on the square, and dust fell from the stone pillars on the high platform.
The expressions of the Peak Masters changed repeatedly; some had their mouths wide open, some clenched their fists, and some muttered to themselves: "This is impossible..."
The Void Realm around Chu Sheng began to distort.
In the center of the ripples, an aged figure slowly emerged.
White-haired, withered in appearance, wearing an antique Daoist robe from an unknown era.
The Daoist robe was embroidered with the emblem of the Wendao Palace, but the style of that emblem was different from the current one, more rustic and simpler.
He glanced at Chu Sheng, then looked at the wendao bell.
His voice was hoarse: "How many years has it been... finally, someone has rung it."
The square was silent.
Feng Qingyang's pupils contracted sharply, Ye Gucheng's hand pressed onto his sword hilt but did not draw it out, and the Peak Master of the Tenth Peak bowed and saluted, his voice trembling slightly: "Ancestral Master."
The Peak Masters of each peak knelt down in unison.
The Disciples did not know what had happened, but seeing the Peak Masters kneeling, they followed suit.
For a moment, the square was filled with people kneeling, like a wheat field swept by the wind.