Wangyou Zhenren stared at Luo Qingchen, his gaze complicated enough to write a million-word novel.
Luo Qingchen sat on the armchair, legs crossed, feet swinging, showing none of the awareness expected of a disciple.
She brought her thumb and index finger together, rubbed them lightly, and flashed Wangyou Zhenren a standard business smile.
“Old man, wanna learn?”
“I can teach you.”
“But tuition fee…”
Wangyou Zhenren’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.
He looked at the room full of gleaming golden nanmu furniture, felt the oppressive concentration of spiritual energy in the air, and then glanced at the exclusive grade-array gathering formation from Hegemon Blade Sect on the floor.
His chest grew tight.
‘This little girl is a walking treasury vault!’
“You little thief! How dare you ask me for money!”
Wangyou Zhenren’s beard bristled with anger.
“This roomful of loot—I haven’t confiscated it all, and that’s already an act of grace!”
Luo Qingchen took offense.
She jumped up from the chair and planted her hands on her hips.
“Loot? Prove it!”
“This is a strategic resource relocation!”
“Besides, you tricked me into coming to this godforsaken mountain with nowhere to sit. I had to find a way to improve my living environment!”
Wangyou Zhenren was dizzy from the barrage of unfamiliar words.
He wanted to scold her more, but the words stuck in his throat.
Standing in the empty cave dwelling, looking at his two disciples—
One cold as ice, the other sharp as a monkey—
The old man’s fire inexplicably dissipated.
He didn’t glare or argue with Luo Qingchen as usual.
He dropped all pretense of jest and was silent for a long time.
Finally, he let out a long sigh.
It carried an indescribable weariness and world-weariness.
“You’re right.”
Wangyou Zhenren admitted frankly.
“Wuyou Peak really is this destitute right now.”
“I… truly don’t know how to earn money.”
This sudden capitulation caught Luo Qingchen off guard.
All her prepared retorts stuck in her throat.
She stared blankly at the suddenly somber old man, unsure how to respond.
This wasn’t the script!
Wasn’t the old fox supposed to keep trading barbs, so she could squeeze a few more benefits?
Wangyou Zhenren didn’t look at the luxurious furniture again.
Instead, he fixed his gaze on Luo Qingchen.
There was less judgment in his eyes, and more of an inexplicable relief.
“But…”
“Now that I have a clever little mischief like you, Wuyou Peak might change.”
With that, he pulled out a few simple white jade bottles from his bosom and tossed them to Luo Qingchen.
“These are basic Foundation Consolidation Pills I refined myself. You’ve just reached Foundation Establishment, so they’ll be useful.”
Before the words faded, Wangyou Zhenren’s figure flickered, transformed into a streak of sword light, and fled without looking back.
His speed was hasty, almost awkward, as if he were hiding something.
Luo Qingchen held the still-warm pill bottles, staring at the direction the old man had disappeared.
Half of her triumph at extorting him inexplicably evaporated.
‘Why’s this old geezer running so fast?’
‘Guilty conscience?’
‘Or… does he feel embarrassed too?’
“He’s always been like this.”
Beside her, Ling Xiyue’s cool voice sounded.
Luo Qingchen turned her head and saw Ling Xiyue looking toward where their master had vanished.
In her clear eyes was a trace of complexity Luo Qingchen had never seen before.
“Like what?” Luo Qingchen asked instinctively.
Ling Xiyue withdrew her gaze, walked to the tea table, and gently brushed her slender fingers over the surface.
“Wuyou Peak wasn’t like this before.”
Her voice was light, as if narrating a distant story.
“Master… every few years, he descends the mountain to wander.”
“Not to seek treasure, nor to visit friends.”
Ling Xiyue paused, then continued:
“He goes to the mortal world to find orphans who have spiritual roots but, because of poverty or troubled times, cannot embark on the path of cultivation.”
Luo Qingchen’s heart skipped a beat.
“He would exchange all his spirit stones for mortal gold and silver, distributing it to those who couldn’t afford food.”
“If he found a child with good talent, he would personally guide them into the path and send them to a sect. Those with lesser talent, he’d leave enough money to ensure they reached adulthood.”
“The resources of Hidden Sword Mountain, the sect’s monthly allowance—he gave almost all of it away.”
Ling Xiyue lowered her eyes, a rare trace of melancholy in her voice.
“I… was one of them.”
“When I was still a baby, my parents abandoned me.”
“Master found me when he was out.”
“He brought me back to Hidden Sword Mountain, raised me, taught me cultivation, treated me… like his own daughter.”
The cave dwelling fell silent, broken only by the sound of spiritual energy flowing through the gathering array.
Luo Qingchen stayed quiet for a long time, clutching the pill bottle.
In her past life, she’d been a miserable 996 employee, burning the midnight oil for a few coins, until she worked herself to death at her desk.
She understood better than anyone what it meant to have no money.
She also knew all too well how cheap and how expensive kindness was in this dog-eat-dog world.
After a long while, Luo Qingchen pouted and mumbled softly.
“Wouldn’t have guessed that old geezer was such a soft-hearted fool.”
She looked up at Ling Xiyue.
“People live better when they’re a little selfish.”
“Especially in the cultivation world—you stab me, I backstab you, it’s normal.”
“Being a good person gets you killed fast.”
She spoke the most realistic, cutting words, but her actions were honest.
Luo Qingchen carefully tucked the pill bottles into her most secure storage pouch, making sure they were safe.
Seeing her contradict herself, Ling Xiyue’s cold face revealed a faint smile.
The heavy atmosphere grew much lighter.
Luo Qingchen took a deep breath, as if she had made up her mind.
She slammed her hand on the golden nanmu table, making the teacups jump.
“Alright!”
“Let the poor days of the past be the past!”
Luo Qingchen put her hands on her hips and declared with authority.
“From today on, I’m taking over Wuyou Peak’s finances!”
“Senior Sister, you just focus on cultivation and being beautiful!”
“Leave the rough work of making money to me!”
“I promise, within ten years, we’ll turn Wuyou Peak into the richest peak on Xuanzhou Continent—no, the richest in the entire cultivation world!”
“When that happens, we’ll pave the ground with spirit stones and build walls with immortal jade! We’ll ride a nine-dragon-drawn agalloch carriage when we go out! If someone pisses us off, we’ll just smash them with top-grade spirit artifacts!”
Ling Xiyue looked at the spirited little figure, her smile deepening.
She nodded seriously.
“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”
“Oh, by the way.”
As if remembering something, Ling Xiyue raised her right hand, and the Green Scale Sword appeared in it.
She drew the longsword.
The blade was clear and bitingly cold.
“Now that you’re a direct disciple of Wuyou Peak, it’s time for you to go to the forbidden ground of Hidden Sword Mountain, the ‘Sword Graveyard,’ to choose your own life-bound spirit sword.”
Luo Qingchen’s eyes lit up instantly.
‘Gear selection! I’m good at this!’
She rubbed her hands together, leaned excitedly toward Ling Xiyue, and lowered her voice mysteriously.
“Senior Sister, Senior Sister!”
“Does the Sword Graveyard have… that kind of… you know…”
Luo Qingchen gestured as she spoke.
“A sword with poison smeared on the blade? One scratch and they fall, death at the touch?”
“Or an invisible sword! Preferably the kind where I stab and kill someone with my flying sword, and they don’t even know where it came from!”
Ling Xiyue: “…”
She looked at Luo Qingchen’s eager, troublemaking expression and was covered in black lines.
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