Chapter Fifty-Seven: Humiliation of the Sect

Hearing this, Xiao Bao pouted in displeasure and glanced behind his third senior sister. Li Qianchen was also sizing up the little fellow. To think that someone at the early stage of Qi Refinement could enter the sect—it struck him as rather amusing. Had Small Green Mountain’s standards fallen this low?

As he pondered this, he saw another youth approach, carrying a bamboo sword. “Senior Brother Xiao, what’s going on?” Another one at the early stage of Qi Refinement. Li Qianchen shook his head slightly. It seemed that Elder Lin had given up on himself. The little one just now could perhaps be explained away by exceptional talent, but this youth was the very image of mediocrity among countless outer sect disciples, entirely unremarkable.

With his opinion of Green Mountain set, he suddenly felt bored. He only wanted to go up the mountain quickly and settle the matter, so that his wayward disciple could see for herself the folly of her words.

“It’s nothing,” Xiao Bao hurriedly waved at Yang Mu, not daring to let him know about the disdain in the man’s earlier tone—Brother Mu’s sharp tongue was not to be trifled with and could easily cause trouble for their master. He then turned to the young cultivator and said, “Please, senior, come this way.”

Li Qianchen frowned slightly. Since when did one refer to themselves as “I” in front of a sect elder? Uncultured. Truly, a disciple trained by Small Green Mountain. But he wasn’t here today to discipline someone else’s disciples. Catching the nervousness and guilt on Su Bailu’s face from the corner of his eye, he felt an inexplicable satisfaction.

Now she knew to regret? Too late!

He flicked his sleeves and strode up the mountain. Before him stood a few dilapidated wooden huts, and his gaze fell upon two foxes, one large and one small, by the spiritual spring.

Ah, no wonder the other sects felt jealous. While other disciples toiled in their studies and worked hard to earn merit for a good position in the sect, Elder Lin was feeding such precious resources to spirit beasts. Did he expect these two animals to compete in the outer sect tournament?

The vast Green Mountain seemed empty, with only a few cats and dogs about, giving off a strangely forlorn air.

Li Qianchen cleared his throat disdainfully, waiting for the attendant boy to offer him a seat and tea, and for that so-called Green Mountain elder to greet him with a fawning, fearful smile. Then Su Bailu would naturally see right from wrong.

Such an elaborate display was not just to vent his anger, but also to teach the girl a lesson.

As for actually making her leave Qingfeng Mountain? Impossible. She was already showing signs of reaching the peak of Qi Refinement, and the Frostfall Sword technique—which he’d never thought much of—was progressing rapidly in her hands. Clearly, she could win a good place in the outer sect tournament. Why should he let Small Green Mountain have her for nothing?

Just as he was thinking this, Li Qianchen was startled to find that the attendant boy never stopped, but led him straight to the edge of a cliff.

“Please, senior.”

With that, Xiao Bao quietly left.

On a bamboo chair, a Daoist was dozing lightly. Li Qianchen stood expressionless behind him, feeling something was amiss. Why did this scene remind him of being scolded by his father years ago?

“Hmph.” The little fox couldn’t help but snort with laughter. Xiao Bao rolled his eyes nonchalantly, placed a stool behind his third senior sister, and whispered, “Master is tired and won’t wake till dinner. Senior sister, rest for a while.”

“Don’t make trouble, little one,” Zhao Ling said with a bitter face. She’d brought Li Qianchen here to resolve an issue, not to disgust the man—otherwise, she and Junior Sister Su would be the ones to suffer.

From afar, Yang Mu sensed something was off. He frowned and gripped his bamboo sword tightly. This cultivator looked unfriendly—definitely here to cause trouble.

In the end, it was Li Qianchen who lost his patience first. He sneered, “Is this the master you mentioned, who doesn’t even have the courage to look his disciple in the eye?” His words dripped with contempt.

Su Bailu’s emotions were turbulent; she felt weak all over and her face grew even paler. Her master had raised her for years—she had nothing to repay him with, and now she’d brought him trouble. Was she even less than Zhao Jinian?

Her thoughts were simple: you are my master, I am your disciple. Such a clear relationship, yet when it truly fell upon her, Su Bailu found it devastating.

Was reason always to be defeated by strength and status?

She slowly stepped past Li Qianchen, knelt by the bamboo chair, and rested her hands on its arms. Her chest felt tight, and her breathing was tinged with sobs. Gently pressing her cheek to the Daoist’s hand, she wore a faint smile, but tears streamed down her face.

“Master… your disciple has let you down.”

A gentle sigh.

She wished she could linger here a little longer. The swordswoman who had once left Xiao Family Village with such flair was now to have her last sharp edge worn down by this so-called immortal sect.

When she rose, the bond between master and disciple would be severed.

She forced a helpless, bitter smile and looked up at the Daoist—only to see that at some point he had opened his eyes, their depths showing a trace of dull impatience.

“Ugly to look at,” Lin Ze’s brows knitted slightly.

Though time in the simulator passed countless times faster than in the real world, reliving the same role’s experiences again and again could make one feel as if chewing on wax—sapping interest in this world. After every simulation, he needed a period of adjustment.

To others, it simply looked like he was sleeping.

Being woken suddenly left him feeling worse than a bout of morning grumpiness.

Su Bailu stared in stunned confusion. Before she could react, her master grabbed her sleeve and rather roughly wiped her face.

“So you’re finally willing to wake up?” Li Qianchen ground his teeth, barely holding back his anger. Never before in the outer sect had anyone dared so pointedly ignore him. Witnessing this scene now, his shame and fury grew.

“I’ve heard that my wayward disciple has received much care from Elder Lin outside the sect. I’ve come today to offer my thanks.” As he spoke, he patted his storage pouch, and two exquisite white jade medicine bottles fell to the ground.

These were Qi-replenishing pills produced by the Eastern Yue Sect; a single spirit stone could buy at least twenty bottles. Treasured by outer sect disciples, but to a Foundation Establishment elder, they could only be considered an insult.

Lin Ze looked at Su Bailu without turning his head. Noting her pallor, he released a sliver of spiritual sense and immediately understood.

Her qi sea was damaged; it would take at least half a month to heal.

“Elder Qingfeng…” Zhao Ling forced herself to speak up, trembling with fear. “Elder Lin has shown great kindness to Junior Sister.”

“Do you mean those misguided cultivation insights, or her shallow early-stage Qi Refinement?” Li Qianchen sneered. “Let’s leave it at that. I hope Elder Lin will be more careful in the future; my disciples from Qingfeng Mountain are mine to discipline—no need for outsiders to interfere.”

He looked down at the Daoist from on high.

“Don’t play deaf and dumb here. If you understand, answer me.”

His manner was utterly arrogant, as if he didn’t take the other man seriously at all.

Yang Mu and Xiao Bao quietly drew closer, their calm eyes fixed on Li Qianchen—their expressions remarkably similar to Lin Ze’s usual look.

When the sect is insulted, what should one do?

Draw your sword and cut them down!

As for what to do if you can’t win… that could be decided after the fight.