Chapter 59: Another Joins the Ranks of the Verdant Mountains

Zhao Ling, carrying the gravely injured and nearly unconscious Li Qianchen, departed from Little Green Mountain.

She had long puzzled over how Senior Lin would resolve this matter. Now, at last, she gained some insight. He had simply seized the Qingfeng Mountain seal, made Junior Sister Su a disciple of Little Green Mountain, and settled everything swiftly and decisively. Li Qianchen, having lost the token of his sect, would surely be anxious and uneasy. The seal itself held no particular use for Senior Lin, so he would not cling to it unnecessarily; naturally, someone would need to retrieve it. Since the seal was now in Su Bailu's possession, that person could only be herself.

Zhao Ling looked down at Li Qianchen's storage pouch in her hand. As the sole Qingfeng Mountain disciple present, all she needed to do was show a bit of loyalty, promise not to divulge what had transpired today, and return the storage pouch and seal to their rightful owner. By doing so, she could seamlessly become the favored confidant of this Qingfeng elder. Surely, he would not kill his own disciple to keep her silent; instead, he would have to offer her benefits to secure her discretion.

A faint, bitter smile appeared on her mature, alluring face. Senior Lin indeed lived up to his reputation—not only had he effortlessly solved the trouble for Junior Sister Su, he had also conveniently left Zhao Ling an escape route. The only concern was whether Li Qianchen would report the incident to the Southern Hall for investigation.

She gazed at the young man's soot-blackened face, which still held traces of fear even in unconsciousness, and sighed softly. A dragon among men, a favored child of the heavens—how could he possibly endure the humiliation of letting others know he had been bested by a mere rogue from Little Green Mountain? Once he awoke, he would be more inclined than anyone to bury the matter deep within himself.

Her own elder had long been manipulated by Senior Lin, completely at his mercy. Still too young, she thought.

...

...

At the summit of Little Green Mountain.

The white fox watched the female cultivator surnamed Su descend the mountain in a dazed state, licked its paw, glanced back at Lin Ze, forcibly suppressing its astonishment, and teased, "For a cultivator as ruthless as you, I'm surprised you spared his life and returned the items."

Lin Ze looked back with a hint of helplessness.

Ruthless? If that were truly the case, the little fox would not be alive now.

"I’ve spoken to you before about rules. While I enjoy the benefits of this identity, I am naturally subject to its constraints. Duel if you must, but don't go too far—otherwise, it becomes nothing more than murder and robbery."

"Here we go again." Sensing the caution in his words, the white fox smirked.

"I'm a fox demon, not a pig demon—I have brains, you needn't repeat yourself." With that, it muttered inwardly a few more times; besides, it had no confidence that it could have escaped unscathed from that sliver of true fire just now. Clearly only a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, yet he had a seemingly endless array of trump cards. If it were still a Golden Core demon, it would have no fear, but now, with its strength greatly diminished, it couldn't help but feel a trace of apprehension toward Lin Ze. This was no longer mere concession for Qin Hongxiu’s sake, but genuine acknowledgment that the Daoist was a threat.

Yang Mu watched his master’s back.

He had once prided himself on his talent—able to grasp even high-grade techniques quickly. Not until he witnessed the sword just now did he realize what the true Moonlight Sword Scripture meant. His master, at mid-stage Foundation Establishment, already possessed two high-grade techniques at the perfected stage. Having personally experienced their intricate mysteries, he understood how much hardship was required to reach such a level.

By comparison, that young cultivator earlier was nothing but a so-called prodigy—hardly worthy of the title!

As for Xiao Bao, he remained the calmest of all. His master was the most formidable; whatever he did was perfectly normal.

When Lin Ze returned to his bamboo chair, the others gradually dispersed to their own tasks.

A duel between elders resulting in one gravely injured would serve as gossip among disciples for a month in any other sect. Little Green Mountain, however, was different. Perhaps influenced by the Daoist’s serene demeanor, the rest felt inexplicably that it was merely a minor matter. It was even less troubling than worrying about why Wang Yao had yet to return after half a month.

...

...

Outside the Ebony Tree Orchard.

The elder handed over a steamed bun, glanced at the young man's swollen left arm, and teased, "You’re the most persistent among the disciples sent here by the sect these past years."

Wang Yao took the bun, took a bite, his face somewhat dirty but still wearing a smile. Yet his eyes held less inferiority now, and his whole bearing seemed more resolute.

"Have these monkeys been around for many years?"

"Not exactly. There are others as well. Ebony grows very slowly, so it's quite precious. The sect uses it to make sword hilts, and the spirit beasts like to craft small trinkets from it, build nests and such." Old Wu shook his head, a pipe clamped between his teeth, and chuckled, "These monkeys are among the fiercer types."

"Why doesn’t the sect send a Foundation Establishment cultivator here?" Wang Yao wondered aloud. Even a few at a time could wipe out their nest—wouldn't that be easier?

"What are you thinking?" Old Wu rolled his eyes. "The sect has hundreds, thousands of orchards, groves, and herb fields in these mountains. The number of spirit beasts causing trouble and stealing food is countless—should we kill them all? Then what would distinguish our immortal sect from the Demon Sect?"

He passed over his pipe, saw the young man decline politely, and smacked his lips before continuing, "Killing a few troublemakers just serves as a deterrent, to remind them who rules these mountains. Besides, among the spirit beasts, not just those at Foundation Establishment, but many at Golden Core as well. Quite a few have even formed Dao brotherhoods with the sect’s elders, together resisting the demon tribes."

"We have to greet them respectfully as seniors when we meet."

Old Wu’s tone shifted, "Of course, spirit beasts and demons are different; each group has its own attitude toward Dongyue Sect. When dealing with these little rascals, don't be soft-hearted—after all, they won't show mercy when they bite your neck."

He realized his words might be redundant. This young man was sharper than himself—over the past half month, he'd slain at least seven or eight fierce spirit monkeys, saving countless disciples. His hands were powerful and his actions measured; by now, his reputation in the orchard was growing. If not for his lack of aptitude, he wouldn’t be stuck here guarding the woods alongside Old Wu.

While he was thinking this, two shrill cries sounded nearby. Old Wu felt a chill at his neck, his expression changed, and he tried to turn—but it was already almost too late. During their conversation, two spirit monkeys had stealthily circled behind them!

Yet Wang Yao calmly swallowed the last bite of his bun, suddenly let out a sharp monkey cry, and pale internal energy surged from within. He had been prepared all along. Unhurried, he thrust out both palms, each landing squarely on a monkey.

"Ee-ee!"

The palm strikes were fierce, targeting vital points. Both were mid-stage Qi Refining, yet he faced two at once and sent them fleeing in terror.

"You noticed them early—were you deliberately scaring the old man?" Old Wu got up, still shaken.

"They hadn’t entered the orchard yet—that’s your rule," Wang Yao shrugged, massaging his swollen arm.

Only then did the old man remember the youth was still injured, and couldn’t help but marvel. Even he had missed the signs, but the young man had detected them, acted decisively and accurately, without hesitation.

This was no ordinary novice disciple—he was more experienced than the old hands who had worked here for years.

"It’s a pity—that’s another six merit points," Wang Yao shook his head gently.

"Do you need spirit stones that badly?" Old Wu looked at him in puzzlement. Normally, disciples came here to pass time, lying down whenever possible, seldom working as hard as this one.

After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in and whispered a few words in the young man's ear.