Chapter 89: The Vote Begins! A One-Sided Slaughter!

Once True Lord Xuantian opened his golden mouth, the matter was settled.

Chu Feng’s heart bloomed with laughter on the spot, yet on his face he still maintained that solemn expression of “running around for the future of the sect.”

He bowed deeply to True Lord Xuantian.

“Ancestor’s sense of righteousness is truly admirable! To ensure absolute fairness in this referendum, every process shall be open and transparent, and supervised collectively by all elders!”

With that lofty hat placed upon him, True Lord Xuantian had no room left to back out.

Next came the performance of Ascension Group’s Chief Operating Officer—Wu Hao.

Under Chu Feng’s instruction, Wu Hao led a group of quick-witted disciples and busily began setting up the venue.

Soon, in the center of the hall, they placed two enormous boxes crafted from century-old spiritwood.

To show “fairness,” the two boxes were exactly the same—identical in size, material, even the wood grain looked almost alike.

But the labels stuck on the boxes carried the true art.

On the box to the left, four large characters were written in bold, flowing strokes:

——“Reform and Development”!

The calligraphy was vigorous and powerful, outlined with gold powder that sparkled in the light—radiating an aura of hope and future.

On the box to the right, another four characters were scrawled:

——“Self-Confinement.”

The handwriting was crooked, like ghostly scribbles, done in the plainest black ink—a dull, oppressive mess that made one feel stifled and hopeless.

True Lord Xuantian’s eye twitched violently when he saw those words.

Self-Confinement?

I have guarded the sect’s thousand-year legacy, and in your mouth that becomes self-confinement?

But before he could flare up, Wu Hao was already standing between the two boxes, holding a sound-amplifying spiritual device, and began reading out the “voting rules.”

“Dear family members! Dear elders! The referendum is about to begin!”

Wu Hao cleared his throat. His bearing was exactly like that of a mortal-world host presiding over some grand celebration.

“The rules are simple! In a moment, each family member with voting rights will receive a blank jade slip!”

“All you need to do is imprint your spiritual mark upon the jade slip!”

“Those who support ‘Reform and Development,’ support President Chu, and support our grand ‘Go Public and Ascend’ plan—please place your jade slip into the left box marked ‘Reform.’”

“If… uh… if anyone thinks that the old days of never knowing where your next meal comes from, and never seeing hope of Foundation Establishment in a lifetime, were somehow better… then… you may choose to put your jade slip into the right box marked ‘Conservatism.’”

Wu Hao’s words were so biased he might as well have said directly, “Anyone who votes right is an idiot.”

The crowd burst into laughter.

At that moment, outside the Main Peak Hall, Zhang Daniu also began his long-prepared “atmosphere-boosting operation.”

He led several thousand of the Group’s core fans, shouting rhythmic new slogans:

“Cast your vote for reform today—tomorrow I’ll go public and ascend!”

“Conservative thought brings only sorrow—watch your points reset tomorrow!”

“Follow the President and feast together—common prosperity, brighter future!”

The chants were catchy, rhymed, and irresistibly tempting in their simple, straightforward lure.

Inside the hall, the disciples’ blood boiled as they listened. Their fists clenched, their eyes shone—they were just waiting to get their jade slips and cast their sacred votes.

“All right! The referendum officially begins!”

With a grand wave of his hand, Wu Hao declared, “First, let’s invite our esteemed elders to step forward and cast their votes!”

This order of process had also been carefully designed by Chu Feng.

Let the vested interests vote first—to play the role of “leading by example.”

Liu Changqing was the first to step out. He puffed out his chest, his face wearing a sacred look of “voting for the future of the sect,” as he walked up to the high platform.

He picked up a jade slip, didn’t even glance at the right-hand “Self-Confinement” box, and with a crisp “pa,” he threw it firmly into the left “Reform” box.

The sound rang clear and loud, full of ceremonial gravitas.

Next came Wang Xuanfu.

He followed suit, walking up solemnly and casting his jade slip into the “Reform” box.

Then came Elder Qian, Elder Sun…

One after another, the elders queued up, as if on a pilgrimage, solemnly placing their jade slips into the left-hand box.

The scene was as grand as it was spectacular.

Of course, a few old stubborn ones—those who didn’t get along with Liu Changqing’s faction and hadn’t benefited much from the Group—stood there with shifting expressions, hesitant.

Chu Feng noticed. He said nothing, only smiled warmly at one Elder Li, and subtly pointed toward his own storage bag.

The meaning was obvious: Elder Li, the Group’s latest product—“Ever-Stalwart Pill (Premium Edition)”—your reserved share, do you still want it?

Elder Li shuddered all over. He instantly recalled the supreme joy of revitalized vigor he had experienced in front of his Dao partners after testing the sample a few days ago.

His inner struggle vanished in an instant.

Dao heritage?

Rules?

Were any of those more important than the happiness of having Dao partners?

He coughed lightly, straightened his robe, and stepped forward to cast his jade slip into the left-hand box.

Thus, the elders’ voting concluded with a unanimous result—perfectly passed.

Next came the Inner Sect disciples and stewards.

That scene was an even greater one-sided slaughter.

The disciples surged toward the high platform like a tide, faces blazing with fanatic excitement, tripping over each other to shove their jade slips into the “Reform” box.

Some were so stirred up they nearly tossed in their identity tokens along with the jade slips, as proof of loyalty.

The right-hand box labeled “Self-Confinement” stood lonely and deserted, ignored by all, like a garbage bin abandoned by the times.

True Lord Xuantian sat high upon his throne, expressionless as he watched it all unfold.

He looked at those he once regarded as the “future of the sect,” now driven mad for the sake of a vague, illusory “IPO plan.”

He looked at the elders he once relied upon, now bowing and scraping for a bit of “dividends” and “shares.”

He watched the Dao heritage and rules he had upheld for a lifetime be trampled into dust by a ridiculous game called “voting.”

He felt no anger anymore.

No sorrow, either.

Only a deep, soul-piercing numbness.

He felt as though he were no longer seated upon the Sect Master’s throne of the Qingyun Sect.

But rather atop a colossal wave named “Era,” helplessly watching himself be swept by its irresistible tide—mercilessly dashed upon the sands.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep