Chapter 90: Waking Up to a Fight

Chapter Ninety: Waking Up Means a Fight (Second Update)

Inside the room, the four listened as Yang Xiaoman recounted the story of Long Jinyi’s arrival.

“Senior Brother was not seeking betrayal; he was forced by the Sect Master of Abyssal Sword Palace to swear an oath and leave the Peach Blossom Sword Sect, acknowledging him as master, all for the sake of obtaining the antidote for our master. The incident of master being poisoned is no doubt linked to that old fiend from Abyssal Sword Palace,” Yang Xiaoman concluded.

At her words, waves of emotion surged in the hearts of the four.

Among them, Daoist Cuotuo’s expression was the most complex. On one hand, he blamed himself for implicating his eldest disciple; on the other, he felt guilty for wronging him. Moreover, he was burning with anger—he, a dignified cultivator of Longmen, had his disciple snatched away through such despicable means. It was an affront beyond endurance.

“Outrageous! That old scoundrel dared to snatch my disciple—using such base methods!” Daoist Cuotuo’s eyes flashed with a cold, murderous light.

Fan Lanzhou’s eyes, though similarly cold, held more self-reproach. Of all those present, he had objected most fiercely to Long Jinyi’s defection, and had harbored grievances even against Daoist Tianhe and Gu Xijin, believing their actions had contributed to Long Jinyi’s departure.

“Why didn’t Senior Brother tell me?” Fan Lanzhou asked Yang Xiaoman.

Yang Xiaoman gave a wry smile. “He said that while you appear indifferent on the surface, your heart is resolute and unyielding. If you had known, there’s no telling what you might have done in response…”

Fan Lanzhou fell silent at these words. It was true—Long Jinyi had seen right through him.

Linghu Jinjiu, meanwhile, was even more incensed than anyone else. His hatred for those of the demonic path was already deep-seated; now, learning of Long Jinyi’s plight, he was nearly driven to murder.

As for Fang Junmei, who had never even met Long Jinyi, he felt no special attachment, but in his heart, he admired this man who could endure humiliation for the sake of righteousness, regarding him as the most remarkable man he had ever heard of.

In this respect, Gu Xijin was inferior to Long Jinyi. The reason was simple: Gu Xijin’s path had been too smooth, while Long Jinyi had always struggled against fate. Such men were often destined for greatness.

“Master, what should we do now? Should we report this to the sect, join with other schools, and lay waste to the Abyssal Sword Palace to bring Senior Brother back?” Linghu Jinjiu asked, his voice cold and harsh.

Daoist Cuotuo fell into contemplation.

…

“No!” Yang Xiaoman interjected at that moment. “Senior Brother said that I could tell you all of this, but there is no need to spread it further. Nor does he wish us to act—he has already been forced to swear the Ancestor’s Oath and join the Abyssal Sword Palace. That cannot be changed. If we attack the Abyssal Sword Palace, it will only place him in a predicament, forcing him to become our enemy.”

At these words, the faces of the others darkened considerably.

“Are we to do nothing, then?” Linghu Jinjiu protested.

“Yes, do nothing,” Yang Xiaoman nodded. “Senior Brother said that the day he is no longer bound by the Ancestor’s Oath will be the day he sweeps away the Abyssal Sword Palace and returns to the Peach Blossom Sword Sect.”

Everyone was taken aback.

“…That brat, he’s got quite the audacity. To talk of breaking the Ancestor’s Oath—I wouldn’t even dare imagine such a future!” Daoist Cuotuo muttered after a moment of silence, half in admiration, half in exasperation.

“That’s why he alone is worthy to bear your hopes and dreams,” Yang Xiaoman replied in a low, earnest tone, her gaze wise and clear.

Fan Lanzhou and Linghu Jinjiu gave her strange looks, sensing for the first time that Yang Xiaoman had grown up all at once.

Fang Junmei, meanwhile, suddenly thought of the Old Swordsman and his own dreams and expectations; his admiration and understanding of Long Jinyi deepened.

Another brief silence fell.

“You all leave for now—I need to think this over carefully,” Daoist Cuotuo said with a wave of his hand after the silence.

“Yes, Master,” the four replied, and made their way out.

Fan Lanzhou, who was sitting furthest inside, was the last to leave. Daoist Cuotuo’s gaze swept over him unconsciously, but then something caught his attention: Fan Lanzhou’s sleeve was swinging oddly. He reached out and grabbed it—only to find it empty.

“Lanzhou, what happened to your arm?” Daoist Cuotuo’s face darkened further.

Fan Lanzhou smiled faintly. “I broke it in a fight, Master. No need to worry—Uncle Chunyu has already told us which two materials can heal it. Once we find them, it will grow back.”

Daoist Cuotuo was not so easily placated. He knew Fan Lanzhou was not one to seek trouble. His pupils narrowed at the explanation, but in the end, he said nothing further. There was too much to consider; all must be handled one thing at a time.

…

The four exited, and behind them, the door slammed shut.

Though Daoist Cuotuo was awake, thoughts of Long Jinyi left no room for joy. After exchanging glances, the four sat down at the stone table in the courtyard and drank in silence, drowning their frustrations in wine.

“When did you see Senior Brother? Did he say anything else?” Fan Lanzhou drank tea instead of wine, and asked as he sipped.

Yang Xiaoman recounted the events following her departure from the sect, then passed along Long Jinyi’s greetings. “Senior Brother said he’ll help look for information on the Earth Dragon Saliva and the Spring of Vital Breath. If he hears anything, he’ll find a way to let us know.”

Fan Lanzhou nodded, feeling all the more ashamed.

Yang Xiaoman then took out a jade slip and handed it to Fang Junmei. “Little Brother, this is a gift Senior Brother asked me to bring you.”

She spoke with composure, not mentioning anything about the Dao of Space—not from secrecy, but because there was no need to involve more people.

Fang Junmei accepted it, startled. When he examined it with his spiritual sense, his pupils widened.

“If I get the chance, I’ll thank Senior Brother in person,” he said earnestly as he put the jade slip away.

“Is it just for him? We’re not your junior brothers picked up off the street, you know!” Linghu Jinjiu complained.

The three laughed, the tension in the air at last beginning to ease.

…

It was nearly half an hour before Daoist Cuotuo emerged.

He had changed into fresh clothes, though still a plain gray robe. His white hair was tied in a simple topknot, his long beard flowing, and his gaze bright and upright. He seemed every inch the otherworldly Daoist, though he certainly lacked the aura of a top cultivator.

Indeed, among the Ten Sword Immortals of his generation, Daoist Cuotuo was of middling talent. But when it came to the fortune of accepting disciples, no one surpassed him.

“Master!” the four called out together as he appeared.

“First, tell me what happened to your arm,” Daoist Cuotuo demanded sternly.

Fan Lanzhou’s brow furrowed slightly. “Over seventy years ago, during the sect competition, Elder Ning Jiuyi of the Outer Sect challenged the position of our Unmoving Peak. I broke this arm fighting his disciple.”

Daoist Cuotuo’s face fell—yet again, it was all for him, for Unmoving Peak.

“Ning Jiuyi’s disciples all used underhanded, mutually destructive tactics—they even resorted to the Thunderstrike Talisman. Otherwise, Second Senior Brother wouldn’t be so badly injured,” Linghu Jinjiu snorted coldly.

Hearing this, Daoist Cuotuo’s eyes flashed with renewed chill.

With a swift motion, the old man drew a longsword from his waist, as quick as lightning.

“Outrageous! I was asleep for but a moment, and they all think they can bully me!”

Clang!

Having cursed, Daoist Cuotuo unsheathed his sword in a flash and shot off like a bolt of lightning.

…

The four watched in stunned silence.

“Master, that matter is long past—” Fan Lanzhou called out, broad-minded as ever. But Daoist Cuotuo, in his fury, paid him no heed and quickly vanished from sight.

“This is your fault for speaking out!” Fan Lanzhou snapped at Linghu Jinjiu, then sped after their master, praying he wouldn’t cause too much trouble.

The other three exchanged glances and hurried after them.

…

Rumble—

Before the four had gone far, the sounds of battle thundered from the direction of Falling Stars Field, where the outer sect disciples resided.