Chapter 90: Result Announcement! The Ancestor Was Rendered Powerless!
The voting process—rather than a selection—was more like a grand ceremony of allegiance.
When the last disciple, his face flushed, cast his jade slip into the “Reformation Box,” the entire referendum session officially came to an end.
Wu Hao walked onto the high platform, his face radiant with the smile of a victor.
He first bowed respectfully toward True Lord Xuantian, then turned to face the crowd, and using a voice amplified by spiritual power, loudly declared:
“Dear family members! Honorable elders! The most thrilling moment has arrived! Now, I announce—the vote counting begins!”
The procedure itself was, in truth, completely unnecessary.
Because the box labeled “Self-Confinement” had not made a single sound from beginning to end.
But what Chu Feng wanted was precisely this sense of ceremony.
He wanted to use this most direct and cruel method to declare to the entire Qingyun Sect—and especially to True Lord Xuantian—the end of an old era and the beginning of a new one.
Under everyone’s watchful gaze, Wu Hao walked toward the box on the right—the “Conservative Box.”
He reached out and tapped the box twice, producing hollow bang bang sounds.
Then, with exaggerated regret in his tone, he said,
“Ah, it seems that within our sect, not a single family member misses those impoverished days of the past. This is truly... wonderful!”
Good-natured laughter echoed below.
True Lord Xuantian’s face twitched uncontrollably again.
Next, Wu Hao walked to the left—the “Reformation Box.”
That box was packed to the brim, with several jade slips even spilling from the slot.
Wu Hao took a deep breath, channeled his spiritual power, and in a tone as impassioned as if he were splitting the heavens, shouted:
“Now! Let us witness history! Let us witness the future our Qingyun Sect has chosen together!”
He suddenly opened the box.
Clatter—!
Countless jade slips, each glowing with a different hue of light, cascaded out like a waterfall, piling up into a small mountain atop the platform.
Each jade slip was branded with a unique spiritual imprint, representing a devoted supporter.
“Vote counting begins!”
“Elder Liu Changqing—one vote! Supports reform!”
“Elder Wang Xuanfu—one vote! Supports reform!”
“Inner Sect Disciple Li Ergou—one vote! Supports reform!”
“Disciplinary Hall’s Wang Mazi—one vote! Supports reform!”
……
The counting process was long and monotonous, yet every person in the hall listened as if spellbound.
Each name spoken represented another strand of strength joining together.
When the final name was read, Wu Hao’s face was flushed with excitement. He strained his throat and, using all his strength, roared the final result:
“For this public vote, total participants: thirty-two thousand five hundred and eighty!”
“Votes for ‘Self-Confinement’... zero!”
“Votes for ‘Reformation and Development’... thirty-two thousand five hundred and eighty!”
“I hereby declare—the ‘Reformation and Development’ proposal has been unanimously passed!”
Boom—!
At the moment the result was announced, the entire Main Peak Hall—and indeed the whole Qingyun Sect—erupted into thunderous cheers!
“We won! We won!”
“President Chu is incredible!!”
“Immortal Dao is going public! Immortal Dao is going public!”
Countless disciples embraced each other and wept, as if they could already see themselves ascending to the Immortal Realm, becoming shareholders, marrying rich and beautiful wives, and stepping onto the dazzling peak of life.
Amid this sea of fervor, Chu Feng slowly walked to the center of the hall.
He raised his hand and gently pressed down.
A simple motion.
Instantly, the cheers loud enough to lift the roof fell silent.
The entire world grew quiet.
Every gaze turned toward him—burning, reverent—awaiting their new king’s victory speech.
This feeling of absolute control thrilled Chu Feng inwardly, but on his face was solemn calm.
He did not look at the cheering disciples nor the excited elders.
He turned around—to face the lonely figure on the high platform, True Lord Xuantian, who had remained silent from start to finish.
Then, in front of everyone, he bowed deeply and solemnly.
“Ancestor.”
His voice, carried by spiritual power, reached every ear clearly.
“You have seen it. This isn’t just my decision—it’s the collective choice of over thirty thousand family members of our Qingyun Sect.”
“But no matter how far we go or how high we fly, you will forever remain the stabilizing pillar of Qingyun Sect—the spiritual symbol in every one of our hearts!”
“This junior has a proposal!”
Chu Feng straightened up and spoke loudly:
“I propose that from today onward, we honor True Lord Xuantian as the ‘Eternal Honorary Supreme Ancestor’ of Qingyun Sect!”
“The Ancestor shall no longer need to trouble himself with any mundane affairs of the sect!”
“His sole duty—from now on—is to cultivate! To charge toward higher realms!”
“And our Group will dedicate the finest resources, the best cave dwelling, and the most superior cultivation techniques to serve the Ancestor wholeheartedly!”
“We shall make the Ancestor the first in Qingyun Sect—and the entire Eastern Wasteland—to break through to the Divine Transformation Stage!”
These words were flawlessly eloquent, every phrase impeccably placed.
They affirmed the voting outcome while also giving the Ancestor immense face.
In translation, it meant:
Ancestor, please stop meddling in sect affairs. We’ll take care of you, give you the best treatment. Just be our mascot, our ultimate weapon—something to keep around for prestige.
This—was blatant dispossession of power!
Using the most respectful tone to deliver the most heart-piercing message.
True Lord Xuantian slowly opened his eyes and looked deeply at Chu Feng.
In that young man’s eyes, he saw no trace of triumphant joy—only a bottomless calm.
He knew—his loss was not unjust.
He was defeated not by scheming or conspiracy, but by something he could never comprehend—a force called “the era.”
After a long silence—
He finally moved.
He rose from his throne, did not glance at anyone again, and with a weary and desolate figure, walked slowly, step by step, into the depths of the hall.
He neither agreed nor disagreed.
But his departure itself was a silent consent.
An era—had ended.