Players: All NPCs in the Sect Are Moles

It all made sense.

At last, she understood everything!

This so-called Inquiry Golden Autumn Spirit Gathering wasn’t a test of one’s dao heart at all. It was a complete and utter brainwashing session designed to cultivate the mindset of a Demon Cultivator!

Its goal was to implant the ideology of Demon Cultivators into the mind of every disciple.

They were using this method to instill these insidious, cunning, backstabbing Demon Cultivator concepts into every single disciple of the sect!

To get them accustomed to deception and betrayal, to have them leave all the dangerous scouting—the missions that meant certain death—to their righteous allies, while they themselves put in minimal effort and reaped all the rewards!

How vicious!

What a terrifying sect!

Just as Su Ling’er’s mind reeled from her discovery, she suddenly realized that, at some point, the gazes of every disciple in the pavilion had converged on her.

Those stares were like tangible threads, pinning her to the spot.

There was no malice in them, but they carried an urging quality that made her deeply uneasy.

’What’s going on?’

’Why is everyone looking at me?’

"Junior Sister, hurry!"

Lin Qingfeng’s voice whispered beside her ear,

"According to the rules, if you answer incorrectly, you have to act absolutely heartbroken. That’s how you please Mr. Qian, got it?"

"What?!"

A storm of shock crashed through Su Ling’er.

’I have to cry just for getting it wrong?’

’Eldest Brother, are you just making this up on the spot?!’

’I don’t remember hearing Mr. Qian on stage say anything about this!!!’

’What kind of twisted-up rule is that?!’

’And it’s to please Mr. Qian?’

’It’s obvious you fiends just want to watch someone make a fool of themselves for your own amusement, and you’re just using an elder as an excuse!’

She turned to Lin Qingfeng, her pretty face, pale with shock, etched with defiance.

"Eldest Brother, I... do I have to?"

"You have to! Junior Sister! It’s the rules!!!"

Before Lin Qingfeng could answer, the other senior brothers and sisters around them all chimed in, their voices overlapping.

"That’s right, Junior Sister, hurry up and cry! We’re all waiting!"

"Exactly. Your dao heart has been shaken, so you should be filled with grief. Show us your remorse!"

"We can’t help it either, so just get to crying!"

Every one of their faces wore the gleeful smile of a troublemaker enjoying the show.

’These Demon Cultivators really are evil, every last one of them!’

’Forcing me to do this just to watch me make a fool of myself, and all under the guise of an elder’s orders!’

’They’re absolutely shameless!!!’

Looking at the eager, expectant faces all around her, Su Ling’er knew she had no choice.

’Fine!’

’If I have to act, then I’ll act!’

’For the sake of my mission, for the righteous path, for my own Foundation Establishment!’

’It’s just a bit of crying!’

’I can bear it!’

And so, under the watchful gaze of the entire room, Su Ling’er took a deep breath and quickly summoned her emotions.

She thought of her three bitter years at Qingxu Temple, unable to find a path to the Dao. She thought of this life-or-death undercover mission. She thought of the fear of being manipulated by her Eldest Brother just moments ago...

As sorrow welled up inside her, her act began to feel surprisingly genuine.

The next moment, she clapped her hands over her face.

Her shoulders began to tremble violently. At the same time, she artfully half-hid her face with her landscape-painted folding fan and let out a choked, mournful cry.

"WAHHH... I... how could I have gotten it wrong?

My dao heart... My dao heart is so unsteady!

I’ve failed the sect’s expectations, and I’ve failed Eldest Brother’s teachings...

I... I’m not worthy of Cultivation! WAHHH..."

Her voice, trembling and choked, was cringeworthy to listen to and even more cringeworthy to watch.

Her Eldest Brother watched his junior sister’s performance, rubbing his chin.

’This acting is so unnatural. What if we need her to play the part of the Guixi Sect’s Holy Daughter someday?’

’Should I sign her up for some acting classes?’

And while her Eldest Brother’s thoughts drifted, behind the fan obscuring her face, Su Ling’er’s inner self had already flipped a table and was screaming with her hands on her hips:

’You bunch of brain-dead fiends!’

’How can the answer chosen by a pack of insidious, cunning lowlifes be the right one?’

’Where is the justice in this world?!’

’And you’re making me cry?’

’Just wait until I escape! I’ll make this whole sect of yours weep and wail for real! Aaaargh!’

Her "heartfelt" performance was, at last, over.

She wiped away her nonexistent tears and, under the crowd’s encouraging "this one is teachable" gazes, returned to her seat.

...

On the stage, Mr. Qian watched all of this with a deadpan expression. He slowly unrolled the bamboo scroll again and read the next question:

"Question two. You need to infiltrate a bustling, shady underground market to purchase some special materials. When the market guards ask for your name and origin, how should you respond?"

He paused, and the four options were clearly recited for all to hear:

"One: Give your real name. Act with integrity, fearing no petty villains."

"Two: Give your sect’s name to deter others and avoid unnecessary trouble."

"Three: Use the name of a mortal friend, allowing the name of one who cannot cultivate to resonate throughout the Cultivation Realm."

"Four: Give a plain, unremarkable fake name for cover."

Su Ling’er looked at the question and immediately began to analyze it.

’Since I chose the honest answer last time and got it wrong, I absolutely cannot make the same mistake again.’

’Demon Cultivators value secrecy above all else.’

’Announcing your real name or your sect’s name is far too flashy—it’s just asking for trouble.’

’So, the safest choice would naturally be to use a plain, unremarkable fake name for cover.’

’This has to be the right answer this time!’

Once again, she beat everyone to it, writing the number "Four" on her paper.

After turning in her answer, she saw that the other disciples also seemed to answer quickly this time, turning in their own papers one after another.

A moment later, Mr. Qian began to announce the results.

"For this question, one person chose ’Four.’"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room.

"Everyone else chose ’Three.’"

Su Ling’er was stunned once again.

’Wrong again?!’

’But why?!’

She stared at the senior brothers and sisters around her in disbelief. They were all giving her a look that said, "Junior Sister, you’re still so naive." Some were even shaking their heads.

Lin Qingfeng leaned in again, explaining in a patient, guiding tone:

"Ah, Junior Sister, using a fake name is safe, sure, but it’s thinking too small.

Just think, if you borrow a mortal friend’s name and build a great reputation with it, wouldn’t that make for a wonderful story?

Even though your friend can’t become an immortal, you can still make their name renowned throughout the lands.

Of course, you have to remember to use your own name when you do good deeds.

There was once a revered Heavenly Venerate, a savior of the masses, who did exactly this."

A chill ran down Su Ling’er’s spine as she listened, and a horrifying thought exploded in her mind.

’A wonderful story?’

’This is a recipe for absolute disaster!’

’They don’t just use fake names—they use the names of their beloved mortal friends and family!’

’If these Demon Cultivators go around acting like this and offend some powerful expert, wouldn’t they be bringing a world of hurt down upon their defenseless mortal friends?’

’When assassins come from all corners, how is a mere mortal friend supposed to handle it?’

’And if the friend dies because of it, what will they do to their descendants?’

’It’s too horrible! This sect really is full of demonic Evil Cultivators! They won’t even spare mortals!’

Her mind was a raging tempest, but she had no choice but to once again force a look of utter despair onto her face and begin her second crying performance.

’Shameless!’

’Inhumane!’

’You fiends! Scheming against your own mortal friends and family... you’re worse than animals!’ 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

’And you’re making me cry?!’

’I’m crying for your poor mortal friends!’

...

And then... question three...