Chapter Seventy-Five: Li Zhiwei

Li Zhiwei stood beside Liu Xin, gazing at his miserable state and could not help but sigh softly.

Wang Yao held Xiao Bao in his arms, poised to flee, but his feet could not move forward.

A cold sweat broke out on Yang Mu’s back; his heart silently cried out that things were going awry.

He was the closest to the young man in white, and thus felt the aura most keenly; the man’s presence was no weaker than his master’s, at least at the middle stage of Foundation Establishment. No matter which sect he belonged to, he would never be considered a minor figure.

It was merely a scuffle between a few disciples, and even the Southern Hall had not noticed, yet such a senior had been summoned ahead of time.

“Senior brother, you must not let them off easily! They outnumbered us and acted shamelessly!” Liu Xin finally found some confidence, pointing angrily at the youth.

“So much nonsense. Just now, it was clearly your grandfather here chasing you like a dog, running all over the place. Don’t drag others into this.” Yang Mu glanced at him with disdain.

After the initial surprise, there was nothing to fear. Being caught meant at most some discipline according to the disciples’ code—it was impossible they would kill him. Next time, he would fight back.

Wang Yao remained silent for a moment, then looked at Xiao Bao with a hint of apology. He came from the lower ranks of the sect and understood well the domineering ways of these stewards; there was no point in arguing, just accept the punishment quietly.

The little one clenched his fists, his eyes darting about, and whispered, “Senior sister hasn’t arrived yet—tell her to run quickly.”

Of course, Li Zhiwei’s sharp ears caught this. He glanced at the group, then at Du Juan, who was anxiously watching from afar, feeling a touch of melancholy.

They were all disciples of the same sect, yet the disparity was so vast.

Liu Xin, as one of the more advanced disciples of Eastern Departure Peak, could not even count on his fellow junior sister to help him—proof enough of his poor reputation. Once back, he would have to ask his master to discipline him thoroughly.

Still, that was a matter for Eastern Departure Peak, and as a steward of the sect, he could not side with outsiders.

With this in mind, he looked up at Wang Yao and smiled, “I will punish you according to the rules of the Southern Hall. Have you any objections?”

Before Wang Yao could reply, Yang Mu rolled his eyes. “What about him?”

Li Zhiwei knew he meant Liu Xin and replied coolly, “He is my junior brother. Naturally, I will take him back to have our master discipline him.”

“You’ll really punish him?” Yang Mu raised his brows.

Thinking of his master’s indulgence toward Liu Xin, Li Zhiwei shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“If you’re set on shielding him, why bother with all this talk?”

Seeing the youth's scornful expression, Li Zhiwei remained calm. “Didn’t you all gang up earlier as well?”

Everyone has their own position; true fairness is impossible. The fact that he was willing to punish them according to the rules was already a concession.

Yang Mu curled his lip, knowing this was the best outcome—after all, their fists weren't as strong as the others’.

“Fine, your reasoning is sound enough.” He paused, then shifted his tone, “But since you are acting as a representative of the Southern Hall, you must follow the rules. Senior Wang and that kid only fought one-on-one and did not intervene later. As for Senior Xiao, he is very young and was forced here by me—he shouldn’t count as having committed any offense.”

“What do you mean?” Li Zhiwei frowned.

“I mean I should take the punishment for all three.” Yang Mu tilted his head and grinned, “You’re a steward, you can’t break the rules.”

Li Zhiwei fell silent for a moment, then released his aura restriction and took a metal rod from his storage pouch. “Very well.”

“No!” Liu Xin’s face grew ugly. The more he listened, the more wrong it sounded. Since his senior was here, why not help him vent his anger instead of discussing rules with this group?

In his mind, they should all be beaten half to death to relieve his frustrations.

When his senior paid him no mind, Liu Xin complained, “Those two hit me as well! How can you let them off so easily? If master hears, he’ll surely feel humiliated!”

Li Zhiwei gave him a meaningful look, then turned back to Yang Mu. “You have a sharp tongue; I hope your bones are just as strong.”

He had intended to deliver a light punishment, but his junior brother seemed dissatisfied. As the son of an elder, even he had to show some respect.

But now that the words were spoken, they could not be taken back, so all he could do was adjust the force.

“Relax. Just leave me breathing,” Yang Mu said briskly, stripping off his outer shirt.

“Senior—”

Wang Yao tried to protest, but a surge of spiritual energy blocked his mouth. Li Zhiwei lowered his hand, already somewhat annoyed.

“Don’t worry, your grandfather here didn’t practice external arts for nothing,” Yang Mu shot Wang Yao a reassuring look, took a deep breath, and squatted down, hugging his head.

He understood well the importance of the matter.

The outer sect competition was imminent, and these two seniors were representing Green Mountain to fight for ranking.

Only his own name still hung under Huayang Peak, so he had to minimize the loss.

The cold, black rod was raised high; Yang Mu squeezed his eyes shut.

Wang Yao grew anxious, but could only let out muffled grunts with his mouth blocked.

Xiao Bao struggled fiercely, but could not break free from the spiritual restraints and could only look on angrily.

“Li Zhiwei, try hitting him if you dare.”

At this moment, a cold voice rang out.

Everyone looked up to see a graceful figure striding quickly toward them.

Liu Xin was already unhappy at being ignored by his senior, and now someone else came to interfere. His temper flared and he shouted angrily, “Let’s see what happens if you try!”

He charged forward, raising his foot to kick Yang Mu in the head.

Bang.

The metal rod fell lightly yet firmly on his calf.

Liu Xin clutched his leg, tumbling to the ground, gritting his teeth in pain, and looked at his senior in shock and uncertainty. “You… you hit me?!”

Li Zhiwei withdrew the rod and looked quietly at the newcomer.

Su Bailu strode over, first pulling Yang Mu up, then turned to glare, “You’re quick to hand that one over to the master for punishment, but your own junior brother suffers ninety rods first?”

“What junior brother? I never knew the sect had such filthy animals!” Liu Xin lay trembling with rage, but before he could finish, he received another blow to the mouth.

Li Zhiwei gave him a cool glance.

He looked up at Su Bailu, silent for a long time before speaking, “Third junior sister, I hope you’ve been well.”

“Hm?!”

Liu Xin covered his aching face, finally understanding, and roared in fury, “Li, you actually have another master and hit me for them… I’ll tell our master, you traitor!”

Yang Mu stood in astonishment, glancing at the refined cultivator before him.

This person… was also their master’s disciple?

How had he never heard of this before?

Faced with Liu Xin’s insults, Li Zhiwei seemed utterly unfazed.