Chapter 29

The disciples gathered outside had been dispersed by the elders, with the official explanation being that the Eldest Senior Sister had accidentally caused the commotion while cultivating.

Whether others believed it or not was none of the elders’ concern.

However, the disciples under Fudao Shanren’s tutelage weren’t so easily fooled.

For once, all five of them currently on Yashan had gathered together.

There was Qu Zhengfeng, standing calmly to the side; Shen Jiu, dressed in pristine white robes, fingers absently tracing his lips as if deep in thought; and a little radish of a boy, Jiang He, staring up at the massive hole in the ceiling while muttering, “Whose leg could be this big and thick?”

The remaining two were none other than the so-called “Sword Maniac” and the “Fool.”

One was a disheveled young man with a sword and a wine gourd hanging at his waist.

His chin bore a scruffy beard, clearly unkempt for days, giving him a rather slovenly appearance.

Yet his eyes were as sharp as blades, gleaming with an intimidating sword-light.

The other had an honest, simple face, a sturdy build, and a guileless smile.

Though his features were well-proportioned and handsome, his expression couldn’t quite pull off the word “dashing.”

This was the Fool, Chen Weishan.

Scratching his head, he heard Jiang He’s muttering and replied, “The elders just said it was Eldest Senior Sister’s doing while cultivating. So, I guess it must be her leg?”

For a moment, an eerie silence fell over the other four.

Shen Jiu’s lips twitched violently before he finally looked up and said with utmost sincerity to the simple-minded man, “Sixth Brother, don’t blame me for not warning you—when you meet Eldest Senior Sister, it’s best if you don’t say a word.”

Qu Zhengfeng, standing nearby, chuckled faintly.

Jiang He glanced at his expression and shuddered—disgusting.

Chen Weishan didn’t get it.

“Why?”

Shen Jiu rolled his eyes so hard they might’ve gotten stuck.

This guy’s IQ is beyond saving.

“Someone’s coming.”

The disheveled youth, who hadn’t participated in their discussion, had been staring at the hole the entire time.

His gaze suddenly sharpened as he spoke.

His voice was rough and hoarse, unpleasant to the ears.

But now, no one cared.

They all followed his line of sight.

Sure enough, figures emerged.

Elder Changmei led the way, followed by the Sect Leader and Jian Chou, with their “respected” master, Fudao Shanren, bringing up the rear.

Fudao Shanren kept calling ahead, “Won’t you answer me?!”

Jian Chou hadn’t gone far yet.

She stopped, helpless and amused, but her peripheral vision caught the group of “fellow disciples” who had defied the elders’ orders to observe her.

A quick scan revealed countless eyes on her—near and far, in plain sight and hidden.

She paused before speaking, then said, “Master, let’s talk later. I’m not sure myself.”

This matter of the Heavenly Disk…

It was just too bizarre.

Jian Chou couldn’t shake the feeling that her cultivation progress had been unnaturally smooth—so smooth it was unsettling.

Fudao Shanren, now beside her, frowned suspiciously at her words.

As they walked, he grumbled, “I told you to light up all the Kun lines before Foundation Establishment. Why were you in such a hurry? Back in my day, it took me ages to map out those meridians. A ten-foot Battle Disk isn’t something you can fully light up so easily. And mind you, I was a genius renowned across the Nineteen Continents—”

“Did you light them all up, Master?” Jian Chou interrupted.

“…”

Fudao Shanren choked on his words, wishing he could shove a chicken leg into her mouth.

“Kid, you’ve really learned bad habits from those brats! How dare you bully your elder like this?! You’re deliberately hitting where it hurts!”

“Oh…”

Jian Chou gave him a knowing look, which nearly made Fudao Shanren explode in rage.

Zheng Yao, walking slightly ahead, listened with amusement, keeping his mouth shut.

Ah, the joys of not being a genius, not having a genius master, and not having a genius disciple.

Truly, leisure is bliss.

The commotion this morning had stirred up immense curiosity across Yashan.

Though the disciples had been shooed away, many like Shen Jiu and Qu Zhengfeng remained, watching covertly.

Seeing the Sect Leader and the others emerge in high spirits, they were baffled.

The Scripture Pavilion was nearly destroyed, and they’re happy about it?

The sharper ones immediately connected it to Jian Chou.

Could the elders’ claim—that this was Eldest Senior Sister’s doing—actually be true?

When logic pointed in one direction, minds tended to converge.

After Fudao Shanren’s group left, countless eyes turned upward to the oddly shaped hole in the ceiling: Could it really have been Eldest Senior Sister’s leg?

The chubby Jiang He poked Chen Weishan.

“What do you think?”

Chen Weishan, ever the simpleton, scratched his head sheepishly under his fellow disciples’ stares.

“I think Eldest Senior Sister is amazing. Just… her legs are a bit thick. Even the wall couldn’t handle it.”

“…”

This guy’s IQ is hopeless!

Jiang He facepalmed and sighed at Shen Jiu.

“Fourth Brother, you were right.”

Shen Jiu flicked his sleeve with an air of elegance.

“Of course. But I’m still curious—before seclusion, Eldest Senior Sister was only at Qi Refining. How did she cause such a ruckus… Huh? Where are they going?”

His gaze followed Fudao Shanren’s group as they ascended via the cloud ladder toward the higher reaches of Lanyue Hall.

Lanyue Hall was typically reserved for meetings or receiving guests—common knowledge among Yashan’s disciples.

Qu Zhengfeng remarked coolly, “Earlier, I saw Elder Xihe return from outside. Rumor has it three female cultivators from Jianzhu Sect came looking for Eldest Senior Sister. I didn’t ask for details.”

It wasn’t his business to pry.

Shen Jiu’s curiosity flared.

He slung an arm over Qu Zhengfeng’s shoulder and grinned.

“Second Brother, don’t play dumb. I know you—you’re the deepest, craftiest old fox on Yashan. We’ve fought for years, and I’ve lost to you. Can’t you drop a hint?”

From mortal enemies to best buddies in the blink of an eye.

The others rolled their eyes in unison.

Qu Zhengfeng shook his head.

“I truly don’t know more.”

“Then let’s go see for ourselves.”

The rough, grating voice cut in.

Everyone turned in surprise to see the disheveled youth vanish in a streak of light, heading straight for the stone pavilion leading to Lanyue Hall.

The rest were stunned.

Qu Zhengfeng sighed.

“In terms of taking action, none of us can match Junior Brother Kou. He’s not one for words, obsessed with the sword. I can’t let him go alone—as your former Eldest Senior Brother, it’s my duty to look after him.”

With that, he transformed into a responsible “Second Senior Brother,” summoning his sword and chasing after.

The pudgy Jiang He cursed, “Second Brother, you shameless—wait for me!”

“Hey! You’re all going? Count me in!”

Shen Jiu, never one to be left behind, immediately mounted his sword and gave chase.

Left alone, the single-minded Chen Weishan pondered for a long moment before murmuring, “If everyone’s going, I should too. Following the crowd can’t be wrong.”

In a flash, he disappeared, reappearing beside Jiang He.

The group stealthily approached Lanyue Hall.

Inside, Elder Xihe, the second of Yashan’s Four Great Elders, stood in the center.

He was short, barely reaching Sect Leader Zheng Yao’s chest, but his beard was so long it nearly brushed the floor.

The bronze lanterns cast a dim glow, lit even in broad daylight.

Footsteps echoed from outside, but Elder Xihe showed no surprise.

He bowed. “Greetings, Sect Leader. Greetings, Elder Fudao.”

Zheng Yao, one hand resting on his protruding belly, strolled in leisurely.

At the center of the hall was a grand seat—one Zheng Yao rarely used, but with outsiders present, appearances mattered.

He flicked his sleeves and sat, while Fudao Shanren took the honored position beside him, his status unmistakable.

Jian Chou, as Fudao Shanren’s disciple, stood respectfully behind him.

Jian Chou surveyed the hall.

Besides Yashan’s elders, three female cultivators stood in attendance.

Their robes bore the same two-window embroidery as Xu Lan’er’s—the emblem of Jianzhu Sect.

All three were strikingly beautiful.

The one at the front had a teardrop mole near her eye and carried herself with composure.

The middle one was plain, while the last kept her head lowered, seemingly nervous, her face obscured.

Two windows—Jianzhu Sect.

“When shall we trim the candle by the west window together?”

The line of poetry flashed through Jian Chou’s mind, coloring her perception of the group.

What a waste.

If Jianzhu Sect was full of schemers like Xu Lan’er, it truly sullied such an elegant name.

Elder Xihe stepped forward.

“Sect Leader, the three Jianzhu Sect disciples seeking an audience are present.”

A formal introduction.

The three women immediately bowed.

“This junior pays respects to the Sect Leader of Yashan.”

Their voices, sweet and synchronized, created an odd effect in the hall.

Zheng Yao suppressed a shiver, discreetly rubbing his goosebumps, but his expression remained impassive.

“Rise, friends. As fellow cultivators of the Left Three Thousand of the Middle Region, there’s no need for such formality. I hear you’ve come to see the Eldest Senior Sister?”

Eldest Senior Sister?

The lead disciple, Zhou Baozhu (her teardrop mole marking her as someone of note in Jianzhu Sect, second only to Xu Lan’er), had prepared thoroughly for this visit.

She knew the story, knew Jian Chou was Fudao Shanren’s disciple.

But now, she was thrown.

Because she had been about to address Jian Chou as “Eldest Senior Sister.”

A cold sweat broke out.

She steadied herself and adjusted smoothly.

“Reporting to Sect Leader Zheng, that is correct.”

She took a breath and continued, “Our sect’s Xu Lan’er recently ventured to the Secret Realm of Qingfeng Temple in the mortal world with disciples from other sects. Unfortunately, they encountered danger and were saved by Elder Fudao’s righteous intervention. We are eternally grateful. However, on the return journey, Senior Sister Xu was ambushed by a vengeful enemy from Wuyi Sect. In the chaos of battle, she accidentally crossed blades with Senior Jian Chou…”

“Senior”—a smart choice.

But the words themselves were anything but.

Jian Chou, standing silently beside Fudao Shanren, smirked coldly.

So, my advice had been wrong after all.

Zheng Yao and Fudao Shanren, having heard Jian Chou’s account earlier, now listened to Zhou Baozhu’s carefully sanitized version with growing distaste.

Why did this sound so grating?

Zheng Yao’s gaze sharpened as it landed on Zhou Baozhu.

Zhou Baozhu found this Sect Leader of Yashan utterly unlike the legends.

In the eyes of the world, Yashan was lofty and enigmatic, a place that bred unparalleled experts.

Even Zhou Baozhu had been awestruck passing the Thousand Cultivators’ tomb beneath the mountain’s rope bridge.

But…

Why was the Sect Leader a… fatty?

Suppressing her bewilderment, she pressed on with her scripted speech.

“Yashan has long been revered among the Left Three Thousand sects, and Jianzhu Sect is no exception. Though Senior Sister Xu was gravely injured, she is deeply remorseful for any misunderstanding between our sects. Thus, under our master’s orders, we three have come to formally apologize for Senior Jian Chou’s ordeal.”

Zhou Baozhu relaxed slightly, thinking the worst was over.

“We hope Senior Jian Chou can forgive Senior Sister Xu’s momentary lapse and bear no grudge. Jianzhu Sect will forever remember Yashan’s magnanimity and the life-saving grace of Elder Fudao and Senior Jian Chou.”

“Finished?”

Zheng Yao had long since lost patience.

When the chatter finally ceased, he lifted his eyelids, deigning to look at Zhou Baozhu properly.

Zhou Baozhu stiffened, suddenly feeling dismissed.

The arrogance of Yashan!

But a minor character like her wasn’t worth their consideration.

Fudao Shanren smirked from the side.

“Sounds like she’s done.”

“Ah.”

Zheng Yao nodded and turned.

“Eldest Senior Sister, this concerns you. What say you?”

Zhou Baozhu and the others had glanced at Jian Chou earlier during their bows.

Dressed simply but elegantly, her hair like a waterfall, her features refined, she wasn’t a peerless beauty, but she held her own in the grand hall.

Now, Zheng Yao’s address confirmed it—this was Fudao Shanren’s first disciple, Yashan’s Eldest Senior Sister, Jian Chou.

Having heard Zhou Baozhu’s spiel, Jian Chou stepped forward with a bow.

“Sect Leader, after listening to this Jianzhu Sect sister, I have a few questions. May I?”

Zheng Yao nodded, eyeing Zhou Baozhu.

Zhou Baozhu’s teardrop mole twitched.

This wasn’t going as planned.

This “Eldest Senior Sister” was nothing like Xu Lan’er’s description.

Discomfited by the address “Jianzhu Sect sister,” yet anxious about the impending questions, she forced a reply under Zheng Yao’s gaze.

“Senior, please ask.”

Jian Chou moved to the center of the hall, giving Zhou Baozhu a slight nod.

Fudao Shanren watched her, inwardly crowing.

This is why she’s my disciple! Look at that poise, that ease, that dominance!

Forget “Yashan’s strongest female cultivator”—I’ll make her Yashan’s strongest cultivator, period!

Jian Chou stopped, a faint smile on her lips, deceptively amiable.

“Earlier, you said Xu Lan’er was pursued by a Wuyi Sect assailant. Was this person Tao Zhang?”

“…Yes.”

Zhou Baozhu hadn’t expected such an irrelevant question.

Jian Chou continued, unfazed.

“Tao Zhang is the villain, but do you know Xu Lan’er once took advantage of his plight to gouge out one of his eyes?”

Zhou Baozhu’s pupils contracted.

This was bad.

She forced a smile.

“Senior misunderstands. That’s the villain’s slander—unreliable.”

“Fair.”

Jian Chou conceded.

“I’m new to the cultivation world and unfamiliar with inter-sect feuds. Setting Tao Zhang aside, I ask: did Xu Lan’er only ‘accidentally’ cross blades with me?”

The premonition solidified.

Zhou Baozhu knew things were spiraling out of control.

Sweat dampened her palms as she met Jian Chou’s mocking gaze—she saw right through them!

“Today’s matter concerns Yashan. The scene was chaotic—who could recall clearly? Senior Sister Xu was severely injured and gave a fragmented account to our master. I cannot answer Senior’s question.”

Denial.

From her tone alone, Jian Chou understood everything.

Jianzhu Sect refused to admit Xu Lan’er had fought Nie Xiaowan, let alone used the infamous “Abyssal Strike” to grievously wound her…

Since they denied everything, this so-called “apology” was solely for Yashan’s benefit.

Jian Chou almost laughed aloud at the absurdity.

“Enough. Let’s speak plainly.”

She cut to the chase.

“Does Jianzhu Sect admit Xu Lan’er attacked Nie Xiaowan to escape?”

A direct challenge.

Zhou Baozhu wasn’t stupid.

A glance at Zheng Yao and Fudao Shanren’s “spectator” expressions told her Yashan’s stance.

This… wasn’t supposed to happen.

Her master had assured her:

Yashan, aloof from worldly affairs, wouldn’t risk conflict.

Cultivators were self-interested. Xu Lan’er and Nie Xiaowan’s feud was theirs alone—why would an unrelated Yashan elder disciple intervene?

Jian Chou, unharmed and barely acquainted with Nie Xiaowan, had no reason to meddle.

…

All reasons Xu Lan’er had dared to strike Nie Xiaowan.

Yet now, Zhou Baozhu faced a reality that defied all expectations.

Jian Chou watched her expression shift, but no answer came.

“I ask again: does Jianzhu Sect admit Xu Lan’er ambushed Nie Xiaowan?”

“…”

Zhou Baozhu straightened slowly, mustering every ounce of courage to stand tall in Yashan’s hall.

Meeting Jian Chou’s icy gaze, she said, “Senior is mistaken. This matter is baseless. Jianzhu Sect and Wuwang Pavillion have no enmity. Had such a thing occurred, would Wuwang Pavillion have remained silent? Senior, please choose your words carefully.”

Bald-faced lies!

“Choose your words carefully”?

In Yashan’s own hall, telling a Yashan disciple to ‘ watch her tongue’?!

Jian Chou nearly scoffed.

Zheng Yao and Fudao Shanren exchanged incredulous looks before Zheng Yao chuckled darkly—but said nothing.

Jian Chou didn’t lose her temper.

Not yet.

“Tao Zhang’s account, you deny. What I witnessed with my own eyes, you deny. If you deny everything, why come to Yashan to apologize? Why not just deny it all and be done?”

“Senior Sister Xu acted with a clear conscience. She wronged no one, least of all Senior.”

Zhou Baozhu’s voice grew firmer.

“Yashan’s reputation is sterling, and Senior Sister Xu feared causing discord. Hence, our visit to clarify any misunderstanding.”

“Visit”?

More like uninvited guests!

Jian Chou remembered Nie Xiaowan’s bloodied, unconscious form, the trail of crimson across the sea, Zhang Sui and Zhou Kuang’s numb despair…

She laughed abruptly, shaking her head, and turned away, striding up the hall’s steps.

Zheng Yao and Fudao Shanren watched her, their gazes complex.

The cultivation world had many things they couldn’t change.

Jian Chou took one step, then another, stopping on the first tier.

She looked up at Zheng Yao, then Fudao Shanren.

After a pause, she turned back to the three visitors.

The two behind Zhou Baozhu were pale, the timid one trembling, while Zhou Baozhu clung to her composure.

How could they lie so brazenly?

“One last question: Did Xu Lan’er, or did she not, use Jianzhu Sect’s infamous Abyssal Strike on Nie Xiaowan?”

Abyssal Strike!

The term Tao Zhang had used—a signature technique, unmistakable.

Jian Chou didn’t know much about it, but the name alone made Zhou Baozhu blanch.

Different techniques left different wounds.

The Abyssal Strike’s marks were unique.

Did Yashan’s Eldest Senior Sister know?

Panic flashed across Zhou Baozhu’s face.

Gritting her teeth, she spat, “Even if she did, it was an accident in the chaos!”

“Accident”?

Jian Chou’s lips curled in contempt.

She stood tall, looking down at Zhou Baozhu.

“What a coincidence. Then you, too, shall suffer an accident at my hands!”

Zheng Yao nearly cheered.

Well said!

He fanned himself lazily, drawling, “Ah, what a ‘chaotic’ scene this is…”

Fudao Shanren almost dropped the chicken leg he’d sneakily retrieved.

Zhou Baozhu’s face darkened.

The mockery was unmistakable.

This visit was a failure.

Yashan’s arrogance and unreasonable hostility disgusted her!

She sneered.

“So Yashan is nothing but a bully, hiding behind its prestige. Jianzhu Sect is enlightened—”

This wasn’t just “a single word of disagreement.”

It was many words.

Jian Chou should’ve listened to Shen Jiu and saved herself the trouble.

Her eyes narrowed, cold and sharp.

“Draw your sword.”

Draw your sword!

Outside, Shen Jiu and the others nearly choked.