Chapter Seventy-Six: The Old Master's Four Disciples

"As you wish." Li Zhiwei stood with his hands behind his back. His position on East Departure Peak was not something that could be shaken with a few words.

Moreover, his foolish junior, though the son of an elder, was not the child of the mistress, making his status rather delicate.

But what intrigued him more was what Su Bailu had just said.

His own junior?

His gaze swept over the few children in the Qi Refining stage.

He shook his head gently and said, "When I left the village, the only junior I had was Ji Nian."

Having joined the Eastern Yue Sect and gained a new master, things could not be judged as before.

Upon hearing Ji Nian's name, Su Bailu's expression darkened. She believed Li Zhiwei would never be as ungrateful as that scoundrel, but this Second Senior Brother was always someone who distinguished favors precisely, repaying exactly what was given—never less, but never more.

Thinking of this, she raised her head and said, "You may not recognize these juniors, but you must acknowledge the master. Do you wish to punish on behalf of the master?"

Li Zhiwei pondered for a moment, then shook his head: "I am not yet qualified."

As he spoke, he waved away the restrictions of spiritual energy from the group.

"Good! Very good!" Liu Xin, clutching his cheek, laughed viciously. "As expected of the fine steward of East Departure Peak—just wait!"

With that, he turned and ran toward the mountain gate. Judging by his aggrieved demeanor, he was surely off to exaggerate and report this scene to the elders of East Departure Peak.

Su Bailu frowned.

Li Zhiwei slowly stowed away the disciple rules into his storage pouch. "No matter."

He had never relied on the affection of his teachers to stand firm; all he possessed today was earned through his own strength.

"It is late—take them back early."

"Not fighting anymore? Then I shall leave." Yang Mu quickly pulled on his outer robe. Though he didn't understand what had happened, it was always better to avoid another beating.

Su Bailu glanced at him helplessly. From that bowl of noodles at the mountaintop, she had already seen through this junior's slippery nature. She only hoped it wouldn't bring trouble.

Understanding Li Zhiwei's meaning, she decisively led the group away. Since he had not asked about the master's intentions, she had no need to say more.

After walking a long way, Yang Mu could no longer contain his curiosity and whispered, "Senior Sister Su, Master is only at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment—how does he have such a formidable disciple?"

In other words, if that person could join Little Green Mountain, wouldn't he be a thousand times better than their ragtag crew? Such a young mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator—his prospects were limitless.

Su Bailu stared at the sword in her hand, not replying, only giving a faint, disappointed smile.

Yang Mu shrugged. Turning, he saw Wang Yao with his head buried, silent. Frowning, he bumped him with his shoulder. "What are you brooding about? You think I wanted to help you? Didn't you see that bastard had already drawn his blade?"

"I…" Wang Yao opened his mouth but was unwilling to blame his friend's good intentions, continuing silently forward.

"His realm is higher than yours, and he has a magic weapon. Why are you foolishly insisting on a solo duel?"

"I wanted him to remember Little Green Mountain." Wang Yao, tongue-tied, finally managed a sentence.

"A sword stabbed into him—he’ll remember, once it hurts." Yang Mu crossed his arms, unconcerned.

Neither could convince the other.

In the end, Wang Yao softly retorted, "But when it comes to the competition, disciples from other peaks will bring out their magic weapons. Who can I rely on then? I can’t very well take you up with me."

"Ah…" Yang Mu stroked his chin. That was indeed a problem.

It was said that disciples preparing for the competition on other peaks had already been given pills and weapons by their teachers, while Wang Yao depended solely on his bare hands—he was bound to suffer.

But nothing could be done, as their master had only recently taken charge of Little Green Mountain. Their foundation could not compare to the other mountain gates.

Gain and loss—this was something they had considered well before joining.

It was impossible to demand that their master be both approachable and knowledgeable, and also wealthy and unmatched in cultivation.

Such a teacher did exist, but one ought to look in the mirror first. Anyway, Yang Mu was quite satisfied with their current state.

"If you lack anything, tell me."

Su Bailu spoke suddenly.

She had spent many years on Clear Wind Mountain and had some savings. Moreover…

Senior Sister Zhao Ling had recently sought her out. According to her, after helping Li Qianchen recover his storage pouch and the sect seal, she had been accepted as his personal disciple and received many treasures, with the promise that if she could defeat him in the competition, regardless of ranking, she would be awarded a Foundation Establishment Pill.

Zhao Ling felt guilty, so she confided all this under the guise of joking, hinting that she wished to make amends.

Su Bailu, not wanting to damage their sisterly bond, smiled and changed the subject.

But if there was truly a need, with her relationship to Zhao Ling, borrowing a bit of spiritual stone would not be an issue.

…

Elsewhere.

Li Zhiwei slowly made his way toward East Departure Peak.

He had noticed his junior’s displeasure upon leaving but had no intention of explaining.

Having closed himself off for so long, he was not well acquainted with the sect's affairs.

Recalling the disciple in the courtyard earlier who claimed to be from Little Green Mountain, and combined with his junior’s brief words, Li Zhiwei could easily deduce what had happened.

Master had left Xiao Family Village and returned to these mountains!

When he had followed his master in cultivation, the Daoist was only in his early thirties, leading him and his senior through days of hiding.

Back then, he was young and knew nothing. Looking back now, every time his master was drunk, he would mention a place called Crouching Dragon Peak, his words filled with indignation and fury, cursing endlessly. As Li Zhiwei grew up, his master began to show signs of age, and such words gradually became fewer.

If not for coincidence…

This Crouching Dragon Peak must be the third-ranked mountain gate among Eastern Yue Sect’s peaks.

Since breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage, Li Zhiwei rarely found things troublesome, but now the smile on his face had faded.

Why had master suddenly returned?

What did he intend to do?

Before he could figure out the ins and outs, he could not easily step into these muddy waters—not even for a visit.

After a moment’s thought, he took out a jade slip that he rarely used, concisely recorded these events, and sent it toward the inner sect.

In an instant.

Inside a certain cavern of Eastern Yue’s main mountain.

A short-haired man, shirtless and muscular, slowly opened his eyes.

His large hand took the jade slip from his storage pouch.

"Ping Shan, focus on condensing your pill."

The cavern was a world unto itself, vast and wide, and not only occupied by him. At a glance, there were at least a hundred figures cultivating in silence.

At the very front, an old man sat in meditation.

It was he who had just spoken in reminder.

Hearing this, the short-haired man replied briefly, then closed his eyes once more.

The old man nodded in satisfaction, his gaze drifting elsewhere. His brows furrowed as he spoke sharply:

"Qin Hongxiu!"

The sword immortal in black robes, who had been dozing, jerked awake, rubbing her eyes in confusion and wiping drool from her mouth with her sleeve, grumbling:

"Old man, why are you shouting? I was about to reach enlightenment."

"What did you realize?"

"Snow Ridge Dragonhorn Deer tastes best with a pinch of Sichuan pepper."

The old man gritted his teeth.

"If you dare covet your master’s spirit beast again, beware—I’ll confiscate your Cold Iron Sword!"

After five or six breaths, the old man suddenly realized something and asked in shock and anger, "Where is your sword?"

"Huh?" Qin Hongxiu coughed twice, looking up at the countless brilliant spirit stones embedded in the cavern ceiling, giving an awkward smile. "Maybe I lost it."