Chapter Thirty-Three: The Green Mountains Bear My Presence

“Master.” Wang Yao walked to the cliff’s edge, head lowered in shame.

“The compensation for Huayang Peak will be deducted from your merit points. Any objections?” Lin Ze didn’t turn around, his tone indifferent.

Hearing this, Wang Yao felt an immense pressure settle upon him, as if a mountain had fallen on his shoulders.

Thirty spirit stones—an ordinary disciple would need one hundred and fifty years of menial chores to earn such merit. It was no small sum.

He gritted his teeth and nodded firmly. “No objections.”

With those words, his uneasy and guilty heart grew inexplicably calm.

“Go on,” Lin Ze waved his hand carelessly. “Clean the empty rooms and pick one for yourself. While you’re at it, tidy up for me as well. We’ll have noodles for lunch—remember to add extra salt.”

“Yes, Master.” Wang Yao turned away, gratitude in his eyes. It had been many years since he’d felt this way. In recent times at Dongyue Sect, he’d been as insubstantial as air; no one cared about what he did, and his presence was of no consequence. His heart was always hollow.

Yet now, with this new, suffocating burden on his shoulders, he felt an odd sense of security.

He still had to repay Steward Zhang. He was responsible for Master’s lunch. And now, a young Senior Brother Xiao Bao awaited his stories.

With so much left to do, how could he dare to falter?

As Wang Yao departed, spirits lifted, Lin Ze stretched contentedly, glancing at the cup of steaming tea that had appeared by his side. He shook his head with a sigh of satisfaction—finally, a disciple who understood.

Though he had no intention of truly compensating Huayang Peak with so many spirit stones, at least the new disciple would stop walking around with his head perpetually bowed, which was an eyesore.

As the saying goes, pressure breeds motivation.

He cast a glance at the thick pile of “bills” in his hand, coughed twice, and casually tossed them off the cliff. The mountain winds scattered them until not a trace remained.

He had his simulator and needed no extra motivation.

With this comforting thought, Lin Ze sipped his tea, took out Wang Yao’s character card, and slotted it in, curious to see what new developments might arise.

[Wang Yao: Ordinary Level]

[Skill Card: Mountain-Splitting Palm]

[Simulation Duration: Three Years]

The scene shifted.

The young man quietly tidied up the dishes, casting a helpless glance at the bald little boy beside him. “Senior Brother Xiao, you haven’t finished today’s breathing exercises.”

Xiao Bao pouted in disappointment but obediently headed toward the well, turning back every few steps. “Can you finish telling the tale of the Snake Demon today? I want to tell it to Master tomorrow.”

“Practice your breathing well, and when you reach the early stage of Qi refinement, I’ll finish the story for you.” Wang Yao smiled gently, drying his hands with a cloth.

He stepped outside, took his stance, and performed the Mountain-Splitting Palm with practiced precision. Despite his recent breakthrough, he showed no hint of pride or complacency; his gaze was focused and earnest.

Undoubtedly, mastery at this level would not improve through mere repetition.

Yet he was not impatient. He simply persisted.

Time passed; the green mountains remained.

Xiao Bao’s progress was nothing short of astonishing.

“Brother Yao, I’ve advanced!”

“Brother Yao, I advanced again! Where’s Master?”

In just a month, the little one had reached the middle stage of Qi refinement, rushing over to share his joy.

“Congratulations, Senior Brother Xiao.”

A flicker of loneliness crossed Wang Yao’s eyes, but it vanished in an instant, replaced by a bright, cheerful smile.

In the face of true talent, ordinary people could only look on with envy, knowing that no amount of effort could bridge the gap.

But some wasted time on jealousy, while others were spurred to greater diligence.

Wang Yao belonged to the latter.

He calmed his mind and devoted himself to perfecting his palm technique, each movement precise and measured.

Not far behind him, Lin Ze watched with a faint, approving smile.

Two months passed, and the Outer Sect Grand Competition finally arrived.

The young man who had been absent from the lecture halls re-entered the public eye. He walked into the dueling grounds, posture upright, gaze calm as still water.

One opponent after another fell to his seemingly unremarkable palms.

Wang Yao looked up at his new challenger, cupped his hands respectfully, and said, “Please draw your sword, Senior Sister.”

The young woman grasped her hilt, releasing a biting sword intent. Wang Yao’s expression grew grave as he closed the distance in three strides, a wave of spirit energy surging from his palm that seemed to make the very mountains and rivers tremble.

In a flash, the outcome was decided.

“Congratulations, Senior Sister.”

He glanced at his hands, now covered in a fine frost, thin lines of blood appearing across his palms. He smiled lightly and walked away with composure.

Lin Ze sighed with mild exasperation. Though Wang Yao couldn’t see, he still shot the beautiful female disciple a sidelong glance.

With Wang Yao’s strength, he could have made it into the top hundred, but fate had him face this girl at this very stage.

Still, among the thousands of Outer Sect disciples, being ranked over two hundred was an impressive feat.

“Give my regards to Master,” Su Bailu said as she sheathed her sword, her tone tinged with admiration.

“Senior Sister, do come back to Green Mountain when you have time. Master may seldom mention you, but Senior Brother Xiao has asked after you countless times. If you delay any longer in sending the toys you promised, he’ll go looking for you at Clear Wind Mountain.” Wang Yao replied earnestly, though his mind was still pondering how to counter that previous sword strike.

Two days later, the competition rewards were distributed.

He received a smooth sword pearl, worth at least one spirit stone outside the sect. When infused with spiritual energy, it could unleash a sword intent equal to a full-strength blow from a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Life became intense.

With Green Mountain burdened by over eight hundred spirit stones of debt, Elder Qing Shan toiled endlessly to earn spirit stones, scarcely at home, always traveling. Even Wang Yao, now at the middle stage of Qi refinement, had to take on dangerous missions at the South Hall—most involving demon beasts.

Along the way, he slew demons and monsters, earning a reputation in nearby towns as the Iron Palm Soul-Breaker.

The treasures he acquired along the way—scattered spirit stones, low-grade materials, beast corpses—were all submitted to the South Hall, converted into merit points to repay the sect.

Yet he uttered no complaint. Exhausted, he would return to Green Mountain and set about preparing the evening meal as always.

“Brother Yao, Master has left again.” Xiao Bao sat on the doorstep, face drawn with sorrow. Master had barely rested half a day before hurrying off once more—this time to Yongchuan River, to subdue the water demon.

“Just focus on your cultivation, Senior Brother.” Wang Yao set a bowl of green vegetable noodles beside the boy, giving his shoulder a gentle reassuring pat, his warm smile and calm tone bringing comfort.

“Green Mountain has me.”

The moonlight bathed the peaks, and a simple blue robe fluttered softly in the breeze.

Three years passed. Wang Yao had reached the age of twenty.

He stood tall and slender, his features gentle and composed. A Daoist sword hung at his waist, his battle-worn palms roughened by hardship.

And those once-frail shoulders now bore half the weight of Green Mountain.