Sect Master Wen's Junior Martial Brother Who Shared His Hardships Has Returned - Chapter 8

Xu Chaoqi held his Senior Brother’s hand, and a flash of white light passed before his eyes; the salty smell of the sea spread through the air.

They were still standing on the stone steps. The sound of the waves went from nothingness to clarity, and the sensation of falling grew more obvious — Xu Chaoqi knew they were drawing closer and closer to the ground.

Intense pressure overlapped and pressed down. Xu Chaoqi’s nerves tensed, his scalp prickling.

There were mighty experts below — more than one.

He was only at the Golden Core cultivation stage, and under the crushing weight of all these pressures, the space left for him grew narrower and narrower.

He gripped his Senior Brother’s hand tightly. His Senior Brother’s wide sleeve swayed slightly, and immediately after, the pressure receded like a retreating tide.

Xu Chaoqi instantly relaxed, able to catch his breath.

Down below, over the years the crowd had grown used to releasing their own pressure — even when respectfully welcoming Sect Master Wen, they had never felt anything was amiss.

Until, just a moment ago, a pressure like the sky itself collapsing had pressed directly down upon their shoulders. Even though quite a few of them were at cultivation levels close to Tribulation Transcendence, they were shaken by this vast, sweeping pressure to the point of nearly collapsing to their knees.

Some clutched their chests, clearly having suffered internal injuries.

The pressure among the crowd lessened somewhat, and the pressure from the sky above lessened somewhat too.

Only then did everyone realize the cause, and hastily withdrew their own pressure, greeting the one above with even greater reverence.

In the air, a faint, half-visible heavenly ladder appeared, and thick spiritual energy drifted down.

The sky seemed to brighten slightly. People heard the sound of robes swaying.

Everyone held their breath. Fu Xuandao looked up, and a smile immediately surfaced on his face.

“Sixteenth-generation disciple Fu Xuandao leads the disciples of Yingtian Sect in paying respects to the Grand Ancestor!”

The disciples of Yingtian Sect gave a start; shock and excitement left them unable to put words to it. They did not dare in the least to look upon that person’s true face, and could only clumsily follow behind the sect elder leading them in kneeling.

This was… their Sect Master!

For countless elders and disciples, this was the first time they had ever seen the Sect Master. The Sect Master had not come down the mountain in a thousand years, and not a few among them were not even a thousand years old themselves.

Faced with this legendary figure, their hearts were in chaos, and even their arms trembled.

As for the other mighty experts of the Twenty-Seven Regions on either side, they did not share the same tacit understanding as the people of Yingtian Sect — their reactions were considerably slower than those of the sect’s own disciples. When they realized that this person had truly descended, they hurriedly and in a fluster performed their bows.

The ground was a dense mass of people — at a glance, no fewer than five hundred.

Xu Chaoqi, who was descending the stone steps together with his Senior Brother, was struck utterly speechless at this sight. In disbelief, he stopped in his tracks and gripped his Senior Brother’s hand tighter and tighter.

“Senior Brother…”

“Mm?” His Senior Brother’s voice was steady and deep.

“Who are they bowing to?”

“It should be Senior Brother.”

Xu Chaoqi: …

He swallowed, and the look he turned on his Senior Brother grew even more astonished.

He fixed his gaze idly on one person on the ground, and still he could not see through that person’s cultivation level.

“Their cultivation should all be at Out-of-Body, shouldn’t it?”

Above Golden Core was Nascent Soul, and above Nascent Soul was Out-of-Body.

“Naturally there are.”

Yet for the people down below, Out-of-Body was only enough to be counted as a disciple’s disciple’s disciple.

Before Xu Chaoqi’s rebirth, the highest cultivation level he had ever seen was Out-of-Body; anything beyond that left him at a loss.

He blankly gripped his Senior Brother’s hand tighter, and after a long while forced out one sentence. “Then from now on… can I use Profound-tier… low-grade Earth-tier magic tools as I please?”

Never mind Earth-tier magic tools — even Profound-tier magic tools were something he hadn’t dared to dream of before his rebirth.

His Senior Brother paused, then rubbed his large palm over the top of Xu Chaoqi’s head. “There are plenty of magic tools. Xiao Yao may use them as he pleases.”

Xu Chaoqi pressed his lips together. At first he stared down at his feet, but gradually his eyes curved more and more, and his joy was something even Wen Chaoxi could sense.

Wen Chaoxi relaxed considerably as well, a touch of softness appearing between his brows.

Down on the ground, once everyone had finished their bows and heard Fu Xuandao tell them to rise, only the relatively few people of high standing among the Twenty-Seven Regions dared to lift their heads and quietly look upward.

The white-based Daoist robe with its ink-black hem stirred up their memories of a thousand years ago like a great gust of wind — everything felt as if it were still yesterday. It was as though they were pressed beneath a colossal mountain, unable to summon even the slightest impulse to overstep.

Everyone’s heart pounded like a war drum, their minds buzzing. Just as their hearts were in the greatest turmoil, they caught sight of the somewhat small figure standing behind that person.

Everyone froze — it had been a long time since they had seen a little Daoist attendant behind that person.

Only this little Daoist attendant had red lips and white teeth, crescent brows and bright eyes, a slender build, and every gesture carried a youthful air. Like the dazzling brilliance of a newly risen sun, they had never seen anyone so vividly alive.

This — how could someone so handsome be merely a little Daoist attendant?

Yet before long, this notion of theirs was shattered. As that person and the little Daoist attendant gradually descended to the ground, their robes came into sharper and sharper focus, and people also noticed the hands the two of them held together.

Everyone: …

Some people blinked hard, forcefully — and as a result, that clasped pair of hands only became more clear and obvious.

Everyone’s minds buzzed even more violently; their whole bodies went numb.

What was this situation? They could not untangle it, and did not dare to truly try.

Over the course of several thousand years, who knew how many old fossils at the Tribulation Transcendence stage had been exposed for filthy affairs — but Sect Master Wen had gone ten thousand years without going near love or romance, caring only for cultivation and the way of the sword. How could he suddenly change his nature today, going off to press a pear blossom against a crab-apple tree?

(TL: An idiom referring to an elderly man taking a much younger lover or wife. )

Even though they no longer dared think in that direction, this pair of clasped hands would not allow their thoughts to go anywhere else either!

Surely it couldn’t be that the little junior brother from ten thousand years ago had died and come back to life, and the Sect Master was showing him affection, holding his hand? Even a storybook wouldn’t dare write such a thing — if it had truly happened, red rain ought to be falling from the sky.

Everyone lowered their heads, exchanging glances with one another, not daring to let Sect Master Wen see what was in their hearts.

On the ground there was also a secondary palace where the Sect Master resided, occupying an entire immortal mountain.

If the palace in the sky was more ethereal and immortal in feeling, then the secondary palace on the ground was magnificent and grand.

Xu Chaoqi followed his Senior Brother as the sect’s elders and disciples escorted them deep into the secondary palace, and the crowd bade them farewell.

He and his Senior Brother stayed the night, and the next day he rose early. After having his Senior Brother help him bind up his hair, he pinched two eagles out of talisman paper.

The male eagles were lifelike, and each grabbed one of his shoulders and flew up into the air.

The immortal mountain was extremely large. He flew for over an hour, and only when his spiritual power was nearly exhausted did he arrive at another peak.

The clamor of voices went from sparse to dense; since his rebirth, this was the second time he had seen such a bustling crowd.

Xu Chaoqi instantly seemed to come alive, his face radiant with spirit. In less than half an hour, he had blended into the crowd.

People came and went across the mountain; those wearing black disciple robes were clearly Yingtian Sect disciples. Yingtian Sect disciples made up eighty percent of the crowd — perhaps because the Centennial Grand Disciple Competition across the Twenty-Seven Regions was approaching, Yingtian Sect had also gained quite a few people from other sects.

Xu Chaoqi, dressed all in black, should by rights have blended in most easily among the Yingtian Sect crowd. And yet, even when a man wearing nothing but trousers walked past, the passersby still kept glancing him over now and then.

Xu Chaoqi looked himself over with suspicion. He quickened his pace. A woman as beautiful as an immortal came toward him from the opposite direction, and even as they passed each other, the eyes on him did not lessen in the least — in fact, a whole crowd of men were still staring at him.

Xu Chaoqi: …

His scalp prickled, and he sped up his steps. Just then, a man blocked his way with a broad smile.

“Fellow Daoist, please stay a moment!”

Xu Chaoqi’s hackles rose, and he looked at the man warily.

Seeing this, the man stepped back two paces and raised his hands, saying helplessly, “Fellow Daoist, surely you can set your mind at ease now?”

Xu Chaoqi’s nerves loosened slightly. He stepped back half a pace and asked cautiously, “What is it?”

The man let out a breath, and the smile returned to his face. “Fellow Daoist need not be nervous — I merely wanted to ask where this robe of yours came from?”

Xu Chaoqi curled his fingers down at his sides. Before he could open his mouth, the man went on, “I’ve lived several hundred years, and I have a bit of a family background too, but I’ve never seen an imitation done so convincingly. What fabric was it made in imitation of?”

At these words, Xu Chaoqi lifted his head, a spark of interest and curiosity entering his eyes.

“Imitation? My fabric is an imitation? An imitation of what fabric?”

The man looked surprised. “Fellow Daoist wouldn’t think you were wearing the real thing, would you?”

Xu Chaoqi blinked, his gaze blank and uncomprehending.

Seeing this, the man sighed. Noting that Xu Chaoqi had a pleasant appearance, he patiently explained further.

“Some years ago — a long time now, I can’t even reckon it precisely — there was a divine silkworm that ate a hundred divine trees, and in the end nearly ascended. But because it had swallowed heavenly secrets, its tribulation lightning was several hundred times that of an ordinary person’s. In the end the divine silkworm was struck down by the tribulation lightning, and it was Sect Master Wen who saved its life. To repay him, once every hundred years it offers up cloth woven from its own silk. Someone once saw that fabric — it’s said that a single bolt gathers the moonlight of a thousand miles, light as a swan’s down, and nourishes the immortal body.

Once, the Region Lord of the Southwestern Lower Region was willing to trade a hundred spiritual veins for a single bolt of that cloth, but the Sect Master refused.

People craved this cloth so much that several great clans began imitating it. And yet even the most convincing imitation still doesn’t compare to that black robe of yours, Fellow Daoist.”

As Xu Chaoqi listened, his eyes gradually widened. He bent down and clutched at his own sleeve, but the clothes were on his body — there was nowhere else he could hide them.

The man continued, “It’s a pity the Sect Master only keeps it stored away in the treasury and never wears that cloth himself — otherwise the various great clans could imitate it even more convincingly. What a shame, that cloth will probably never see the light of day.”

The man also wanted to buy Xu Chaoqi’s robe for a large sum, but Xu Chaoqi refused.

As he walked, he rummaged through his storage pouch and found that all the clothes inside were made of the exact same material.

Xu Chaoqi: …

More and more gazes gathered on him as he walked, and Xu Chaoqi grew increasingly uneasy.

“Ugh, from now on I suppose I’ll have to sew my own clothes!”

Two young disciples, each cradling a black robe, walked away sighing. Hearing this, Xu Chaoqi looked over and saw that behind the two young men, quite a few more people were still coming, cradling brand-new black robes.

Xu Chaoqi let out a breath, a hint of delight entering his eyes, and he walked toward a nearby building in the opposite direction from which the young disciples had come.

At that moment, Song Shuiqing was working hard to please the two people beside him. “I heard the fish at the dining hall here is exceptionally delicious. Let’s go together in a bit — my treat!”

The two exchanged a sidelong glance, their smiles perfunctory. “Forget it, why don’t you just hand over the spirit stones and we’ll go eat by ourselves.”

“Ah?” Song Shuiqing froze for a moment, somewhat at a loss.

“Hm?” one of them looked down at him. “Give it or don’t, whatever.”

Song Shuiqing lowered his head and clutched his storage pouch. After a moment, he took the pouch out. He had originally meant to feel for a single mid-grade spirit stone, but in the end took out three.

“There’s plenty of good food here — you two eat your fill.”

The expressions of the two finally eased, and they began patiently coaxing this young lord. “Of course, don’t worry — once we’ve finished eating we’ll bring some back for you!”

Joy returned to Song Shuiqing’s face, and he nodded hurriedly, then took out another two spirit stones from his pouch. “If there’s anything you like, feel free to buy it — if this isn’t enough, just ask me for more.”

The two accepted the stones without any pretense of politeness.

Seeing this, Song Shuiqing scratched his head and asked, “Tonight my father wants me to hand in ten talisman scripts, but I don’t know how to draw them. I’m worried my father will blame me…”

But the two had already lost patience the moment the money was in hand. One of them glanced at Song Shuiqing, mockery hidden in his eyes. “What are you afraid of? You’re the only young lord of the Western Region — surely your father can’t disown you? At most he’ll scold you a bit — it won’t cost you a piece of flesh. Can’t even bear being scolded.”

Song Shuiqing pressed his lips together. The other said, “Even getting into Yingtian Sect, your father pulled strings for you. The Way of Talisman is basically muddling through as it is — not like us body cultivators, working ourselves to exhaustion every day. Lucky for you, in every Grand Competition the Way of Talisman is fated to come in last place anyway, so you don’t even need to bother thinking. We still have to work hard to fight for our rankings.”

Song Shuiqing wanted to say something, but someone clapped him on the shoulder. “Whether you draw them or not doesn’t matter either way — see that building up ahead? Go in and buy ten talismans, and that’ll be more than enough to deal with your father when you get back.”

Song Shuiqing’s eyelashes fluttered; the two had already walked off. He clutched his storage pouch, hesitated a moment, and finally walked toward the small building ahead.

Xu Chaoqi watched the disciples going in and out, looking at the spirit stones in their hands, and finally pinched two mid-grade spirit stones out of his storage pouch.

He set the spirit stones on the counter and said to the shopkeeper, “One set of disciple robes — you should owe me change of twenty-three low-grade spirit stones.”

The shopkeeper glanced at Xu Chaoqi, and taking note of his rather fine attire, said, “A newly enrolled disciple? Take out your disciple token.”

“Not newly enrolled… I enrolled a long time ago.”

The shopkeeper looked him over more closely. “Enrolled this long and still don’t know the rules? Disciple robes can only be mended by yourself, they can’t be bought — you’re only issued one upon enrollment. If it happens to be lost or damaged, you need the seal of a Deputy Peak Master or above.”

Xu Chaoqi froze for a moment, looking somewhat deflated. “I have to mend my own clothes too?”

Seeing how handsome Xu Chaoqi was, the shopkeeper couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. “Mending your own disciple robe has been the rule at Yingtian Sect since the sect’s founding. Don’t tell me you haven’t sewn a single stitch since you enrolled?”

Xu Chaoqi visibly stiffened.

Muttering on, the shopkeeper pulled out a sturdy yellow paper from below and handed it to Xu Chaoqi. “Right here at the bottom — get the Deputy Peak Master of whichever peak you belong to to stamp it. As for how you talk the Deputy Peak Master into it, that’s your own business.”

Xu Chaoqi took the yellow paper and looked at the writing on it. “Does it have to be a Deputy Peak Master specifically, or is anyone above that rank fine too?”

The shopkeeper let out a snorting laugh. “If you can’t even get a Deputy Peak Master, who else could you possibly get?”

Just as they were speaking, a faint, timid voice called out, “Would there… happen to be any Gale Talismans here?”

Xu Chaoqi looked toward the voice; Song Shuiqing lowered his head, embarrassed.

The shopkeeper let out an “Oh” sound. “Bad timing — just sold out.”

Song Shuiqing trembled slightly, looking even more downcast.

Xu Chaoqi glanced at Song Shuiqing, then turned and asked the shopkeeper, “How much does one Gale Talisman sell for?”

The shopkeeper said, “Seventy-eight low-grade spirit stones.”

Xu Chaoqi nodded. He walked over to Song Shuiqing and said in a low voice, “I have some. I’ll sell them to you — let’s call it seventy-five low-grade spirit stones per talisman. That’s seven mid-grade spirit stones and fifty low-grade spirit stones total.”

Song Shuiqing lifted his head, instantly seeming to come alive. He looked at Xu Chaoqi, at that handsome, fine-featured face, and suddenly his face flushed slightly red.

“Thank— thank you, Fellow Daoist!”

As he spoke he hurriedly rummaged through his own storage pouch and pulled out a high-grade spirit stone, handing it directly to Xu Chaoqi.

Xu Chaoqi’s brow twitched. “That’s too much — I can’t make change!”

Song Shuiqing shook his head, saying hastily, “No— no need! Keep the change!”

Xu Chaoqi frowned. “Don’t you have mid-grade spirit stones?”

“I do… I do…”

Xu Chaoqi: “Never mind, just give me seven mid-grade spirit stones then.”

Song Shuiqing paused, hesitated a moment, withdrew the high-grade spirit stone in his hand, and took out ten mid-grade spirit stones instead.

Xu Chaoqi: …

He looked at the person in front of him with curiosity. “Do you especially like giving people money?”

“Ah?” Song Shuiqing stared at him blankly, a faint shimmer stirring in his eyes.

Xu Chaoqi took seven spirit stones, leaving three for Song Shuiqing.

He tucked the spirit stones into his storage pouch, then took out ten blank sheets of talisman paper.

“You— you’re going to draw them right here on the spot?!” Song Shuiqing stammered.

“Hm?” Xu Chaoqi said, drawing as he spoke, “Is something wrong with that?”

Song Shuiqing stared blankly. “To draw a talisman you have to bathe and purify yourself in advance, achieve unity of mind and spirit, and gather the spiritual energy of your whole body to draw upon the essence of all things — done this way, at most one can only draw three talismans a day.”

The shopkeeper beside them fixed his eyes on Xu Chaoqi. “Three wouldn’t be quite right, but it’s true that ordinary cultivators can manage at most five.”

The moment the two finished speaking, Xu Chaoqi’s brush went “swish swish swish” across the talisman paper, and within a few breaths, all ten Gale Talismans were drawn.

Song Shuiqing simply froze on the spot, unable to speak for a long moment, as though he had witnessed something that overturned everything he understood.

Though the shopkeeper remained composed, he too looked Xu Chaoqi over several more times, and said in an even voice, “You really are a peculiar one.”

“Hm? Peculiar?” Xu Chaoqi smiled as he handed the talismans to Song Shuiqing. The spiritual power gathered in those ten sheets of talisman paper together far exceeded the spiritual power of an ordinary set of thirty sheets.

Song Shuiqing hurriedly took the talisman papers, staring at Xu Chaoqi without so much as a blink.

Xu Chaoqi put away the yellow paper the shopkeeper had given him, and as he was about to leave, as if remembering something, he said to Song Shuiqing, “Don’t go throwing your money around carelessly like that from now on.”

“Ah?” Song Shuiqing looked somewhat dazed, yet his hand clutched the talisman papers tightly.

Xu Chaoqi left the building. Drawing the talismans just now had drained a bit of his spiritual power, and he figured he’d need to rest a little while longer before he could fold paper talismans to fly back.

Since there was nothing pressing to do, he decided to look around and see if there was anything fun nearby.

Below the cliff, clouds and mist met, and one’s gaze could not reach the bottom.

Two mountains stood a hundred zhang apart. Some disciples soared through the air, some rode swords in flight; yet among the disciples each displaying their own remarkable abilities, there were always a few Qi Refinement-stage junior disciples who could do none of that.

But those who could enter Yingtian Sect either came from illustrious families or possessed outstanding talent — the gap between the two cliffs posed no obstacle for them.

Xu Chaoqi sat at the edge of the cliff, watching a small number of disciples walking through the air between the cliffs, as if there were a path running through the middle.

Seen from a distance, one would certainly assume they were riding upon the air itself, but walking closer, one would find that quite a few disciples had a thread of silver, thinner even than a strand of hair, beneath their feet.

The silver threads were fastened to both sides of the cliff; each disciple had one thread, and they crossed the cliff with trembling caution.

Only three or four people could afford to use the silver threads; another five or six were using thicker silver cords instead.

Just then, someone happened to pass by him carrying a silver thread. Xu Chaoqi asked curiously, “Why does everyone use silver threads to cross through the air?”

At that, the man’s expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly made a gesture for silence. “Keep your voice down — this is something we’re not supposed to be doing openly!”

“Oh?” Xu Chaoqi lowered his own voice to match.

Seeing that Xu Chaoqi looked innocent and pure, the man crouched down and leaned in close, speaking quietly. “The sect doesn’t allow the use of these underhanded tricks! As for us newly enrolled junior disciples, we either don’t cross at all, or we can only learn to walk on air!”

“Why aren’t magic tools allowed?” Xu Chaoqi asked, also putting on a furtive air.

The man let out a long sigh. “Who told us to be part of Yingtian Sect?! Some years ago, not long after the sect had just relocated to the Southern Region, a newly enrolled disciple used a magic tool to cross the mountain, and happened to run into the Sect Master, who had just returned. The Sect Master said at the time: ‘On the path of cultivation, one’s heart and will must be firm. To constantly seek shortcuts and opportunistic tricks — how could one shoulder great matters this way? I fear such a path of cultivation would not go far either.’

Once the Sect Master said this, the sect senior and the elders below him took it deeply to heart. The Sect Master’s words were even carved onto a stone tablet, which every enrolled disciple must commit to memory. From then on, anyone who dared use a magic tool to cross the mountain would certainly be dealt with according to sect law.”

Having said this, the man seemed to recall something and gave a shudder.

Xu Chaoqi stared at the silver thread in the man’s hand and asked, “What is this thing?”

“Ah, this!” the man lifted his hand slightly. “This is a fine thing — you can’t get hold of one at all without connections. Years ago, a powerful demon emerged from beneath the earth, and the upper Eighteen Regions exhausted all their strength and still couldn’t hold it back. Later the Sect Master arrived, cast out a silver cord, and bound it — the powerful demon instantly lost all its magical power and was left at others’ mercy.”

Xu Chaoqi’s eyelid twitched, and he unconsciously fiddled with his fingers.

The man gave a “heh heh” laugh. “That cord was called the Immortal-Binding Cord. Later, some artifact cultivators studied it and finally managed to refine a silver thread. If you divide the Immortal-Binding Cord into threads of the same thickness, these two kinds of silver thread have similar power — at the very least each strand can bear a weight of tens of millions of jin, so you don’t need to worry about it snapping while you’re walking on it.”

As he spoke, he glanced sideways at the thicker silver cord in someone else’s hand. “I look down on people who use those cords — don’t be fooled by how much that silver cord resembles the Immortal-Binding Cord, it’s actually a cheap knockoff, its power doesn’t even reach one-tenth of my silver thread here. Hmph, all show, no real use.”

Seeing that he and Xu Chaoqi got along well in conversation, the man said warmly, “Why don’t I sell you one through my connections? An ordinary silver thread usually goes for five thousand high-grade spirit stones — I’ll sell you one for four thousand, how about it?”

Hearing this price, Xu Chaoqi nearly lost his composure — drawing a single talisman didn’t even earn him one mid-grade spirit stone!

****

The sky was nearly dark by the time footsteps finally sounded through the empty secondary palace.

Xu Chaoqi pushed open the door. His Senior Brother was sitting at the writing desk, writing something.

He walked closer, his bright eyes wide open, and when he sat down beside his Senior Brother, he leaned over the desk and said, “Senior Brother, do you have your seal on you?”

“Hm?” Wen Chaoxi’s brush paused, and he turned his head to look down at Xu Chaoqi.

He saw Xu Chaoqi rummaging through his storage pouch and finally pulling out a sheet of yellow paper. “To collect the disciple robe from the sect, you also need a seal…”

Wen Chaoxi picked up the yellow paper and read it. “You may wear the disciple robe, but you need to wear an inner layer of clothing beneath the disciple robe.”

Xu Chaoqi nodded. He propped his elbow on the desk and looked up at his Senior Brother. “Where’s the seal? Where’s the seal?”

His Senior Brother shook his head. “The seal is up above.”

“Mm.” Before Xu Chaoqi could even begin to wilt, Wen Chaoxi set the yellow paper on the desk, picked up his brush, and wrote his own name at the bottom.

Xu Chaoqi’s mind was set at ease.

He tilted sideways and fell against his Senior Brother’s leg, and as though remembering something, he tugged at his Senior Brother’s sleeve and said, “Senior Brother, is the Immortal-Binding Cord still around?”

“Hm?” Wen Chaoxi looked down at the person in his lap.

Xu Chaoqi reached out a hand, smiling and languid. “I want to cross the mountain — the Immortal-Binding Cord could be strung between the two peaks.”

Wen Chaoxi fell silent.

After a moment, the Immortal-Binding Cord, glowing with a pale, moon-white light, was placed into Xu Chaoqi’s hands.