Chapter Fifty-Two: An Uninvited Guest

On the way back, the atmosphere grew considerably more relaxed.

Lin Ze held Xiao Bao by the hand, the young attendant cradled the little fox in his arms, while the white fox strode elegantly alongside them, its bearing as noble as could be.

The ink-black sword that Qin Hongxiu had left hanging around its neck proved a mixed blessing for the fox. The downside was that even with its spiritual energy replenished, it still could not muster the full strength of a Golden Core cultivator. At best, it was a half-step above the Foundation Establishment realm—stronger than a Foundation Establishment master, but still far from a true Golden Core. To be unrivaled beneath the Golden Core was a far cry from reaching the Golden Core itself.

The benefit, however, was that as a demon beast, it could now stride openly through the gates of the Eastern Peak Sect. Anyone who had doubts would first have to answer to the sword’s owner. No longer would it need to drift through the mountains, anxiously evading its pursuers.

“Don’t think for a moment that I’ll forget what happened just now,” it said coldly, not bothering to look back.

“Whatever. I never took you seriously anyway,” Lin Ze replied indifferently, chewing on a wild berry. If there was something he couldn’t solve himself, this great demon wouldn’t be able to help either—and when it could help, he wouldn’t need it. It was like chicken ribs: tasteless to eat, a pity to throw away.

In a few days, once he’d practiced the three newly acquired techniques to a certain proficiency, and with that eerie demonic flame in hand, it would be hard for any cultivator below the Golden Core level to pose a threat to him.

“Hmph, you’d better mean it,” the white fox retorted with an eye roll, wondering what gave this mid-Foundation cultivator such confidence.

As the two bickered, the little fox curiously poked out its head and called out in a soft, childish voice, “Mother.”

The white fox quickly turned back, about to comfort the cub, only to see the little creature twist its head toward Lin Ze and chime sweetly, “Father!”

Both of them froze for a split second.

Xiao Bao’s eyes widened in shock as he covered his mouth, his gaze darting between his master and the white fox. He tentatively asked, “Mistress?”

Thud.

With a muted thump, the little fellow rubbed the back of his head in grievance.

Lin Ze silently withdrew his hand.

What a joke—if that little fox dared to spout nonsense again, he’d squeeze the life out of it. As a handsome cultivator with land and a house, who knew how many young, beautiful female cultivators he might meet in the future? He certainly didn’t want these strange ideas attached to his name, sullying his reputation for no reason.

The white fox took the cub from Xiao Bao’s arms, glared at her offspring, and scolded, “Quiet.”

If not for her greed in stealing that fruit, her cultivation wouldn’t have plummeted, and she wouldn’t have inexplicably ended up with this heartless little thing, let alone being hunted by the Heavenly Demon Sect into such a pitiful state—mother and child, alone and nearly perishing.

There was no such thing as a father here—everything was her doing!

On the winding mountain path, only the whispering wind brushing through the leaves remained.

Xiao Bao and the little fox exchanged a glance, both looking aggrieved.

Ahead of them now stood an ancient, unadorned bronze gate of immortals. Two gatekeepers knelt on one knee, their faces flushed, their eyes fixed on their shoetips, not daring to look up. “We welcome Elder Qingshan back to the sect.”

Lin Ze turned in surprise.

The fox had vanished at some point, replaced by a figure of alluring grace. Her hair shimmered like silver, her skin as smooth as ivory, and a fluffy tail was draped around her slender white neck, lending her an air of regal elegance. Only her long, narrow eyes betrayed a hint of foxlike allure, and the shapely legs glimpsed beneath her robes were impossible to ignore.

“Are you out of your mind?”

Once through the gate and out of sight, Lin Ze turned, face expressionless.

“What’s wrong?” the woman asked, blinking and lowering the two fluffy, pointed ears atop her head. “I have no intention of revealing my demon form so casually.”

Lin Ze took a deep breath, sneering, “Then could you please pull up your neckline? This is the Eastern Peak Immortal Sect, not a brothel in town.”

“Oh… sorry… it’s my first time in a place like this. I’m a little nervous.”

The fox demon wasn’t angered by his jibe, but actually nodded apologetically, leaving Lin Ze at a loss for words. Demons who achieved the Demon Core stage could already take human form, but their attire always mimicked their own kind. In other words, the other Golden Core demons of the Heavenly Demon Sect didn’t look much different from her.

“Forget it. You’d better change back—otherwise you’ll just draw more suspicion.” Watching her start to adjust her clothing in front of him, Lin Ze sighed and waved her off with resignation. “Ordinary disciples might not notice, but the stewards and elders aren’t blind. The demonic aura you’re exuding could choke a man.”

It was better to be recognized as a demon than exposed as a Golden Core demon. Even with Qin Hongxiu’s endorsement, the outer sect wouldn’t make trouble, but if word spread that a shape-shifting great demon resided on Little Qingshan, who would dare join in the future?

“Is it that bad?” The woman sniffed her hand in puzzlement. “Smells nice to me—try it if you don’t believe me.”

The robed Daoist gazed silently at the sky, wondering if he should ask Qin Hongxiu to take her away.

In the end, it was the white fox who compromised. Though she didn’t like Lin Ze, she knew this was his territory. She cast him a dismissive glance, wisps of white smoke curling as she shifted back into her demon form.

“By the way, with your level of cultivation, how did you become an elder, anyway?” she asked dubiously. It had been centuries since she’d had dealings with the Eastern Peak Sect—had it really fallen so far?

Lin Ze couldn’t be bothered to answer, striding straight toward Qingshan.

Xiao Bao trotted after him, poking the little fox’s head. In a low voice, he asked curiously, “Can you turn into a person too? Will you come fish with me by the stream?”

The little fox stared at him as if he were an idiot.

Then glanced anxiously at the white fox.

He seemed to think Father didn’t like Mother very much.

***

At the summit of Qingshan, an elder in gray stood beside a bamboo chair, with Yang Mu standing behind him, his face clouded with gloom.

After a long silence, the elder turned and spoke, “Has Huayang Peak treated you poorly? Has your monthly stipend ever been withheld?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “Or has Senior Brother Zhao failed to care for you, neglected to guide you in your cultivation? He’s the only master on Huayang Peak who helps disciples with their questions late into the night—everyone knows this.”

“If that’s so, why do you wish to leave the sect?” Steward Fang’s face was full of confusion. “Could it be you truly have no conscience, that your heart is utterly empty?”

“Now that you’ve said everything, what more could I add?” Yang Mu replied with a mocking smile, squeezing the bamboo sword in his hands until it creaked.

“Whatever the case, could you let go of me first? Does Huayang Peak always bind up its disciples before questioning them?”

Though there were no ropes, his body was tightly locked by the elder’s aura, unable to budge an inch.

“When you return to the sect and kneel before your senior brother to confess, I’ll let you go,” Steward Fang replied, his face unchanged.

“Then you might as well kill me here and now,” Yang Mu spat on the ground and laughed derisively. “My knees are far too tough—I doubt I could kneel.”

His master had once spoken to him about dignity and pride.

Perhaps this was dignity, now.

He wasn’t quite certain, but this body simply could not bend.