Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Grand Ceremony of Heroes

After the Patriarch of the Illusory Clan spoke with the members of the Giant Spirit Sect for a while, he left together with Man Shang. The remaining disciples of the Giant Spirit Sect spread their spiritual awareness around them and, upon confirming that no one was watching, began to discuss the matter of the Lingji Grass.

“This journey through the desert turned out to be far more perilous than we anticipated. To think we encountered the ferocious One-Eyed Celestial Wolf! And yet, the Lingji Grass that Master sent us to find remains elusive. I must admit, I feel rather ashamed,” Qing Yuhe remarked, shaking his head.

“There’s nothing for it,” Ling Yunmei sighed. “We’ve searched for so long and still found no trace of the Lingji Grass. Even in this vast sea of sand, the only place where plants grow is this very oasis where we now stand. I fear our hopes of finding the Lingji Grass on this expedition are slim indeed.”

“If it’s the Lingji Grass we’re after, why didn’t we ask the Patriarch of the Illusory Clan earlier?” Hao Gang interjected. “The Wildlings survive in this desert; they must know its secrets far better than we do. Surely asking them is preferable to blindly searching on our own.”

“I find the Wildlings somewhat peculiar,” Yang Xiao said, his tone uneasy. “It’s as if they harbor some prejudice against our Giant Spirit Sect. Though the Patriarch and Man Shang both tried to conceal it, I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. There may be a particular history between our sects, and I suspect it’s not a friendly one. The tribe exudes a faint, murderous air toward us, and the only reason they haven’t acted might be because they don’t believe they have the strength to deal with us.”

“Brother Yang, you worry too much,” said Qing Yuhe. “I was cautious at first as well, but now it seems the tribe is quite hospitable and has treated us with every courtesy. If we approach everything with suspicion, we’ll only offend them for no reason. I agree with Brother Hao’s suggestion: let us ask the Patriarch about the Lingji Grass tomorrow. If he knows nothing, then we’ll make further plans. What do you all think?”

“That sounds reasonable. When we leave tomorrow, we’ll ask. If the Patriarch of the Illusory Clan knows nothing, I suggest we abandon the search. Should the desert sands return to their former state while we linger, even finding our way back will become a problem,” said Ling Yunmei, nodding.

“Very well, let’s do that,” Hao Gang, Yang Xiao, and Qing Yuhe agreed in unison.

Having reached a decision, they each sat down to meditate and rest.

Not long after, a young woman entered the tent. She was about sixteen or seventeen years old. Living in the harsh desert had given her a rugged appearance and darkened her skin, but her features were nonetheless comely.

Upon entering, she introduced herself: “My name is Niuniu. I am Man Shang’s younger sister, which is what you outsiders call a fiancée. I’ve come to bring you some more clothing. Also, since there’s a lady among you, Man Shang worried you might be uncomfortable sharing a tent, so he sent me to invite you, sister, to stay in my tent tonight.”

“Thank you, Sister Niuniu,” Ling Yunmei replied gratefully. Although as cultivators they could do without sleep for several nights, the journey had left them all somewhat weary. Niuniu’s thoughtfulness in providing Ling Yunmei with a private tent was much appreciated, and her impression of Man Shang improved as well.

Shortly thereafter, Ling Yunmei accompanied Niuniu to another tent for the night.

Yang Xiao, however, worried that something might happen to Ling Yunmei, and so he occasionally swept his spiritual sense toward her tent. But nothing untoward occurred, and Niuniu proved to be just an ordinary girl. Thus, Yang Xiao was finally able to relax.

The night passed swiftly. Yang Xiao spent it meditating, and, finding nothing amiss in their surroundings, closed his eyes for a brief rest.

The next day, the grand Heroic Ceremony of the Wildlings began in earnest. For the tribe, this ceremony was a festival of great significance. Every member emerged from their home, singing and dancing in celebration, making for a truly grand spectacle.

After the dancing, all the tribespeople gathered the young participants of the Heroic Ceremony into the center. Each of these youths was striking in appearance—hardened by years of survival in harsh conditions, their bodies were powerful and strong as steel.

The young men competed in the ceremony through a series of challenges. Whoever remained at the end would be crowned champion.

Man Shang explained the rules to the disciples from the Giant Spirit Sect: “You see how lively our Heroic Ceremony is? In these contests, only fists and feet are allowed—no other means. Whoever can knock their opponent down wins and can challenge another. When only one remains, he will be crowned champion and receive the title of Hero of the Wildlings. This is the highest honor in our tribe, coveted by all.”

The Giant Spirit Sect disciples nodded repeatedly. They had never witnessed such a lively scene, and the tribe’s warmth and hospitality made a deep impression. Their own sect’s competitions were nothing like this; those were solemn and austere, utterly different from the jubilant display before them.

“Man Shang, aren’t you taking part in the ceremony as well? Why are you still here?” Niuniu called out. “I’ll look after our guests; you go and compete. I’ll be cheering for you from the sidelines!”

“Very well, Niuniu. I leave our guests in your care. It’s time I entered the fray. Watch closely—I’m sure I’ll claim the championship again,” Man Shang replied with confidence.

He strode into the center of the crowd to join the other young competitors.

By this time, the ceremony was well underway. In the open space amidst the crowd, two young tribesmen had just finished a duel, with victory going to a youth named Dotai.

Man Shang stepped forward and declared, “Dotai, you’ve grown much stronger! Come, let’s see how you fare against me.”