SSS-Rank 10x Reward System: Accepting Disciples to Live Forever-Chapter 179: Test?

The next day, Wang Chen drifted gently through the skyline of Ancient Sword City.

Compared to before, the city felt... heavier.

The streets below had taken on a dull, brownish hue, as if the vitality had been scraped away overnight. Cultivators argued openly in the streets, their voices sharp and unrestrained, disputes breaking out over territory, resources, and trivial slights. Even the air carried a restless agitation, as though the city itself had lost its anchor.

The disappearance of a behemoth like the Thousand Sword Sect was already taking its toll.

Yet something felt off.

Even without the Thousand Sword Sect, Ancient Sword City should not have descended into disorder this quickly. Powers like the Yang Family still existed, forces capable of stabilizing the situation. Law and order should have held, at least on the surface.

Unless... Wang Chen’s eyes narrowed slightly. Unless something else is happening beneath the water.

Lost in thought, he soon arrived at the northern sector of the city—the territory of the Yang Family.

The contrast was immediate.

The Yang Family estate stretched across tens of kilometers, vast and orderly. The air was thick with the mixed fragrances of elixirs and rare materials. Spirit carts laden with exotic ores moved along well-maintained paths, while storage vaults shimmered faintly under protective formations. Everywhere Wang Chen looked, small formation masters were hard at work, adjusting nodes, reinforcing arrays, and calibrating mechanisms with practiced precision.

It was a scene of disciplined industry.

As expected of a formation-grade family.

Just as Wang Chen was surveying the surroundings, a distant dot rapidly grew larger. Moments later, the familiar figure of Fatty Yang Kai came into view, waddling forward at an uncharacteristically brisk pace.

Beside him walked another man Wang Chen did not recognize.

The man was middle-aged, dressed in crimson robes embroidered with faint defensive patterns. His posture was rigid, his eyes sharp, every step placing him half a pace ahead of Yang Kai—subtly, protectively. From the way his aura coiled inward like a drawn blade, it was clear he was no ordinary escort.

A protector, Wang Chen judged instantly.

Seeing Yang Kai, Wang Chen was about to drift closer—

When suddenly, the crimson-robed man stepped forward.

"Maintain your distance," he said coldly. "Or don’t blame me for being ruthless."

A faint but unmistakable killing intent leaked from his body, sharp enough to make nearby formation masters flinch.

Yang Kai froze.

His eyes widened as if he’d been struck by lightning.

"Uncle—!" he blurted out, panic flooding his face. "What are you doing?! This is Senior Wang! The honored guest of our Yang Family!"

The words spilled out in a rush, his voice cracking slightly.

The crimson-robed man stiffened.

Before he could say anything else, Wang Chen gently shook his head.

"Junior Kai," Wang Chen said calmly, his tone flat but final, "I’m not here to waste my time dealing with petty squabbles."

His gaze flicked briefly toward the middle-aged man, not with anger, but with utter indifference.

"Educate him after I leave."

That was all.

No threat. No display of power. No raised voice.

Yet the air seemed to grow heavier with those simple words.

Yang Kai swallowed hard and nodded repeatedly, sweat forming at his temples. The crimson-robed man’s face paled slightly as he stepped back, instinctively lowering his head.

Wang Chen didn’t wait for further reactions.

He moved past them, his figure gliding forward as if nothing of importance had occurred.

After all, to him, it hadn’t.

Time was the most precious resource in existence—far more valuable than face, pride, or meaningless confrontation.

And he had no intention of wasting even a fraction of it.

Under the guidance of Fatty Yang Kai, Wang Chen soon arrived at the heart of the Yang Family estate—a vast, open hall crafted from materials so extravagant they bordered on excess.

A shallow spiritual-qi pond occupied the center of the hall, its surface rippling gently as translucent koi swam in lazy arcs beneath the water, each movement stirring threads of visible qi. On one side, exquisitely dressed women with snake-like grace sat in pairs, slender fingers plucking zithers whose melodies flowed like silk, soft yet intoxicating. Their music blended seamlessly with the ambient hum of formations hidden within the walls.

Servants hurried about in measured panic, adjusting dishes, refining presentation, and making last-minute checks on the feast laid out in meticulous detail. Every movement was careful, rehearsed—anxious not to offend, yet eager to impress.

At the head of the hall sat a single figure.

Yang Li.

His long beard was neatly groomed, flowing down his chest like silver silk. His eyes gleamed with a sharp, calculating light the moment Wang Chen stepped inside. Without hesitation, Yang Li rose from the host’s seat and walked forward personally.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Senior Wang."

The moment those words were spoken, every servant dropped to one knee. Without lingering, they retreated silently, leaving the hall pristine and empty save for the principal figures.

Wang Chen returned the greeting with a slight nod, a courteous smile resting on his lips.

Yet inwardly, his brows knit together.

Something’s wrong.

Yang Li was... too calm.

There was no tension in his posture, no reverence-stricken stiffness, no careful restraint one would expect from someone supposedly facing an Immortal. His movements were relaxed, practiced—like a host receiving an equal, not a man standing before an existence that could erase his bloodline with a thought.

For someone whose cultivation Wang Chen estimated to be no higher than the Grand Ascension Realm, this reaction was not just surprising.

It was suspicious.

Before Wang Chen could probe further, Yang Li spoke again—his words landing like a stone dropped into still water.

"I am sure Senior is already aware of the Dragon Inheritance Ground."

The sentence was delivered cleanly. Casually. As if discussing the weather.

For the first time since entering the hall, Wang Chen’s expression stiffened.

Out of every possibility he had considered—alliances, favors, negotiations—this was not one of them.

Silence stretched between them.

The zither music seemed distant now, almost unreal.

After a long moment, Wang Chen inclined his head once.

Yang Li’s eyes lit up immediately. A smile bloomed across his face—not one of triumph, but of confirmation, as if a long-held suspicion had finally been proven correct.

As expected.

The two took their seats.

Yang Li’s gaze shifted to Fatty Yang Kai, his expression growing solemn.

"Yang Kai," he said slowly, his voice taking on a rare weight, "it is time I let you in on certain... immortal matters. Listen carefully."

Yang Kai straightened instinctively, his earlier frivolity vanishing without a trace.

Yang Li then turned his eyes back to Wang Chen and added meaningfully, "Senior, please correct me if there is anything I say that is inaccurate."

Wang Chen inclined his head once more.

Outwardly calm.

Inwardly, his mind reeled.

It felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck him square in the chest.

Is this man... testing me?

His brows drew together almost imperceptibly.

Yang Li was not speaking blindly.

He was probing. Measuring. Confirming.

And for the first time since stepping into the Yang Family estate, Wang Chen felt something he had not expected to feel here.

Interest—laced with danger.