The mont it felt like he had beco the center of attention, the nervousness disappeared from his mind like wind-driven smoke. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head, bringing in a fluid clarity.
The rudintary plan he had co up with began to grow with every passing second. Words, ideas, and improvised plans started falling into place, like his instincts were hardwired for this mont.
To give himself more room to think, Han Xuhan began walking towards the old man, hands held behind him with the confidence of a fearless expert.
The crowd parted silently for him, and soon, he was face to face with the red-robed guard, his plan ready for execution.
The precondition to manipulate a mob was to let them tire themselves out first. So his shout had grabbed the mont at the right ti.
To gain control over an ordinary mob, one needed to establish a relatable identity. But this was no ordinary crowd.
Every participant here was a resourceful individual with special attributes and upbringing. To be able to stand here with a token for the test was its proof.
So, there was very little chance that they’d be led by the nose by a person they could easily relate to. To capture their loyal support, a different elent was required in his identity—power.
If there was one principle Han Xuhan’s understanding of the world of cultivation told him, it was that no matter the circumstances, one needed to have an identity powerful enough to be respected.
So here, he needed to establish a powerful identity. It had to be sothing the red-robed old man couldn’t mock openly, sothing unique!
Boldly eting the hundreds of pairs of gazes focused on him, he began his performance. With a resounding slap on his chest, he spoke.
"I. Foreigner!"
This would be his unique identity; a person who could barely speak or understand the local tongue.
How was the old man going to mock him knowing that he couldn’t even comprehend the insults? Heh~
"I. From distant land." Han Xuhan slapped himself in the chest again. A hint of curiosity was visible in the eyes of his fellow participants now.
As the silence following his pause lengthened, the old man guarding the tent opened his mouth to say sothing. But Han Xuhan was waiting for that very mont, with the goal of completely breaking down the man’s rhythm.
So he interrupted him imdiately.
"I. No like. Crimson Snow Sect."
This was a bold statent. Everybody here wanted to be a disciple of Crimson Snow Sect. This deviance would place him on an entirely different footing.
The unique identity was about to take shape. He needed to plant one last pillar—a threat.
"I travel lot. I visit other sect. Beasthaven Sect, Formless Sword Sect, Abyss Guild...I visit many!"
He had heard these nas from Ming Zi during idle conversations. Apparently, they were big nas in the world of cultivation. While the Crimson Snow Sect itself was well-known on this continent, it fell a little short of their status.
Now, he could finally see a hint of caution appear on the old man’s face. It was ti to move on to the second phase of the plan.
"I et people. Many. From here. From there. They tell , Crimson Snow Sect not good!
"Big sects, foreign sects, all agree. Crimson Snow Sect not good!
"So I believe. But I curious. When I get chance to visit Crimson Snow Sect. I co. I see. Now I confirm!"
A flash of outrage passed across the old man’s face. "Bullshit! If—"
Han Xuhan didn’t let him complete the counter.
"I go back now. I travel more. I tell all. Crimson Snow Sect..." he paused, pretending he had to struggle to find his words while baiting the old man to speak again.
"What’s the point of—"
"The Crimson Snow Sect recruit unfair!" Han Xuhan roared. "The Crimson Snow Sect... biased! Disciples... not up to the best standard. Test takers... treated bad!"
Han Xuhan’s speech was full of errors and unsuitable words. But it couldn’t take away much from the genuine passion in his tone. The broken phrases only served to enhance the feeling of helplessness and injustice in the hearts of the mob.
Suddenly, the old guard raised his hand in his direction, and an audible pop was heard in the air around the two of them.
Thinking he was about to counter the speech again, Han Xuhan opened his mouth, only to discover that the words he spoke could not be heard, not even by him!
Was this a result of so kind of spell? Did this old man just use a cultivation technique on him?!
Caught by panic, Han Xuhan tried his best to yell out at the top of his voice. But the only sound to be heard across the testing field was the words spoken by the old man.
"How ridiculous! Do you think you can pretend to be a foreigner in front of ? I, Lao Jun, have been testing disciples from all over the continent for more than one hundred years!
"Your physical features are not only native to our corner of the continent; I can also bet a fortune that your hotown can be found within three hundred miles of Bullhorn Mountain Range. So quit pretending to hail from so distant land."
Han Xuhan did his best to hide his shock and feign nonplussed innocence, as if he was struggling to understand the man, which he partly was.
"As for your idiotic complaints, they aren’t even worth replying to. But since this entire crowd seems to have a few screws loose, I’ll answer them.
"When the number of qualified recruits exceeds the number of disciples we want to accept, how are we supposed to discern fairly who among them deserves a certain slot more than their peers?
"This year, we have accepted nearly five hundred disciples. Are we supposed to make all of them contest every ti for each slot? According to your demand for fairness, that is the only possible design, right? Do you think it’s feasible?
"So we have to rely on external factors to turn down a certain number of participants when the slots are about to be filled up. And what is the best external elent to determine one’s potential as a cultivator? Of course it is fate, luck, or destiny, whatever you want to call it.
"The last ti a situation like this took place, we used coin tosses to cut down the number of participants by half. Tracing further back, once we accepted those whose clothes carried the color red; another ti, those who had the favor of any expert unrelated to our sect were accepted..."
Letting out a deep sigh, Lao Jun made another sudden gesture with his hand, and Han Xuhan finally found his voice back. As he gasped for breath, the old man hamred in the final nail.
"So tell , why should the test this year be any different? How do you propose that we make the recruitnt fair for all of you? Do you think everyone would agree with your proposal?"
At this mont, the only response in Han Xuhan’s mind was, ’Good heavens! Are low level side characters in cultivation novels supposed to be this smart? Or did I run into another way-too-old Son of Destiny?’
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