He let out a gentle sigh, and a look of helplessness appeared on Elder Walker's face. “There are some things we cannot stop or change. The knot in Junior Mark’s heart can only be untied by himself. If we meddle in vain, it will only make things worse!”

“But—!” The Asura Sword William Thompson wanted to say something more, but after thinking about it, he stopped. “Senior brother, what do you think of the disciple that Junior Mark took in?”

Looking at the chubby, big-eared Henry Clark standing there, staring blankly in the direction where Mark had flown off, his face full of gloom, he couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s quite a character!”

Thinking of Henry Clark’s nickname, ‘the Pig of Luofu’, and the stories he’d heard, he couldn’t help but laugh as well. “One loves wine, the other loves food—truly a pair of master and disciple made in heaven!”

……

Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, half a year had gone by.

Mark had been gone for half a year, and Henry Clark was now completely unsupervised. He was never one for strong self-discipline, and with Mark’s help, his innate purple qi had reached the second level half a year earlier than expected. It was as if he’d gained an extra half year, and so his cultivation became even lazier than before.

He was a core inner disciple, so he didn’t need to attend morning and evening classes like the ordinary disciples, leaving him with plenty of free time. As for cultivation, it was purely a matter of “three days fishing, two days drying the net.” When he had nothing to do, he would run off to Qingsongping to hunt wild game.

So, in half a year, he’d grown even fatter. Although he’d gotten a bit taller, compared to his width, it was completely disproportionate—he truly lived up to the name “the Pig of Luofu.”

One day, feeling bored and with a full belly, he looked at the half-roasted wild boar hanging on the barbecue rack, let out a burp, rubbed his round belly, and prepared to lean against a tree for a nap.

He stretched lazily, his eyes searching around for a comfortable, shady spot. Suddenly, his body tensed slightly, like a startled rabbit, and his huge frame floated to the side like a big ball of cotton.

Just as he moved, several sharp sword auras shot toward him.

“Damn it!” Although he was quite fast, the sword auras were even faster than he’d imagined, slicing a huge gash in his clothes.

Then, a red figure flashed over, and before the sword light faded, in just an instant, eighteen strikes were unleashed, each one aimed at Henry Clark’s vital points.

Relying on his slippery footwork, Henry Clark barely managed to dodge the attacks, but was forced to the edge of the pond. His foot slipped, his body wobbled, and with a splash, he fell into the water.

“Haha, Fifth Senior Brother, you’ve gotten a lot slower now!”

A silvery, bell-like voice rang out by the pond, full of satisfaction. With a splash, a fat head emerged from the water, beads of water dripping from his hair and face, looking utterly bedraggled.

Seeing Grace Carter’s beaming face, Henry Clark could only force a bitter smile.

“Little Junior Sister, your swordsmanship is getting more and more impressive!”

“No, Fifth Senior Brother, it’s you who’s getting slower!” Grace Carter said with a giggle, twirling her sword into a flourish before sheathing it. “Ninth Senior Brother, don’t you think so?”

Charles Foster’s figure appeared from behind Grace Carter. Seeing Henry Clark’s drenched, pig-like appearance, he struggled to hold back his laughter and nodded repeatedly.

“Damn it!” Henry Clark looked frustrated as he climbed out of the pond. “You two little devils, don’t expect me to cook for you again!”

“Hmph, if you don’t, I’ll stab you with my sword!”

Grace Carter wrinkled her little nose, drew her sword again, and the cold gleam made Henry Clark jump in fright. He quickly waved his hands, “Alright, alright, I’ll cook, I’ll cook. By the way, what brings you two here today? Not practicing your swordplay?”

“We’re not as free as you, Fifth Senior Brother!” Grace Carter said. “Father sent us to remind you that in a month, it will be the day our Luofu Sect opens its gates. He told me to remind you not to forget, and also, don’t embarrass Uncle Mark!”

At the last sentence, the little girl looked mischievously at Henry Clark and added, “You can’t act like you just did!”

Henry Clark’s smile turned bitter, and he nodded helplessly.

Every ten years, Luofu would open its gates to recruit disciples. Naturally, these new disciples were much luckier than those who had to climb mountains and cross ridges on their own to reach the sect. At least, they didn’t have to spend time searching for the gate, nor did they have to fear being harmed by the dragons, snakes, tigers, leopards, and other wild beasts in the mountains. However, this once-in-a-decade recruitment, while open to all on the surface, was in fact mainly aimed at the young cultivators of the cultivation world.

In today’s Central Plains, cultivators are as numerous as cattle. Besides the major sects, there are also some cultivation clans, countless small sects, and innumerable independent cultivators. The cultivation world is thus a vast and complete system, with the great sects as its backbone, the small sects and cultivation clans as its network, and these independent cultivators as its flesh and blood.