Chapter 10: You’re Asking for Trouble

Wen Jinge had one of the most restful sleeps she’d ever had and didn’t open her eyes until late afternoon. Huo Yongfei was sitting at her bedside, and when he saw her awaken, he asked, “How did you sleep last night?”

“Very well,” she replied, stifling a yawn and naturally continuing the conversation. “When did Senior Brother, the sect master, arrive?”

“I stayed with you for three hours.”

“Oh,” Wen Jinge responded, rubbing her eyes. “Why didn’t Liang Si come wake me? I am, after all, a female cultivator—there should be propriety between men and women.”

Huo Yongfei could only sigh helplessly. “He was asleep as well.”

Wen Jinge: …

“And me, too.” Bai Teng, who’d been dozing at the desk, must have woken up at the commotion, his voice still thick with sleep. “We just wanted to check on you, little darling. Did you hear anything strange last night?”

“No!” she answered without hesitation.

Huo Yongfei, seeing no hint of deception in her expression, remembered the barrier he’d found outside her door in the latter half of the night. “Do you know what’s with the barrier at your door?”

“Liang Si set it up. He was worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep.” Wen Jinge got out of bed, holding a teacup in her hand, just about to take a sip when she suddenly leapt forward, fully alert. When she stopped, she reflexively had Gouchen pressed against Fan Zifan’s neck. “Senior Brother Fan, why is it you?”

Fan Zifan, who’d been sleeping on the floor, broke out in a cold sweat. “When did you wake up? Wen Five, after all these years, do you still want to kill me?”

“I used to want to kill you?” Wen Jinge lifted Gouchen, curiosity plain on her face. “When was that?”

She’d read all of “Wen Jinge’s” files, but from her days here at Xuan Yun Sect, many things weren’t recorded by the system. For example, why she’d quarreled with Bu Suan Zi, what had happened in the fifty years of seclusion on Wanzhang Peak, or why her old rival Fan Zifan had suddenly made overtures of friendship…

“So you really don’t remember?”

“No,” Wen Jinge admitted without hesitation.

Fan Zifan looked at the dark circles under her eyes. “When did you rest last night?”

“I don’t remember. I read until I was tired and then fell asleep.” She wasn’t lying—the book was still on the bed.

Wen Jinge sheathed Gouchen and glanced around at the three present. After a nap, Fan Zifan looked more refreshed, Bai Teng was slightly pale, and Huo Yongfei’s face was iron gray. “It’s only the second day after new recruits have arrived—why are you all here?”

“It’s nothing,” Huo Yongfei was the first to stand. “I wasn’t here when you took on a disciple yesterday, so I came to take a look.”

Wen Jinge frowned in confusion. “Didn’t Liang Si become my disciple first thing this morning?”

“Qiao Yu,” Bai Teng reminded her.

“But that’s still too early. He hasn’t formally completed the apprenticeship ceremony, so he’s not officially of my peak. We can consider it after the small barrier is gone.”

Huo Yongfei was silent for a long time. “You’ve changed.”

“That just means our darling’s grown up,” Bai Teng ruffled Wen Jinge’s hair. “Senior brother and I will take our leave. If you have time, go visit the outer mountains.”

“I plan to,” she said, as if remembering something. “Last night Qiao Yu went out to deliver a message… Senior sister, earlier you asked if I’d heard anything—since you were both here, could it be that something’s happened in the outer mountains?”

…

[Your acting is impeccable!]

“Of course,” Wen Jinge snickered inwardly. “In a few days, I can be even more dramatic.”

[…]

“Master!” Qiao Yu, seeing Wen Jinge flying over, clung to her as if she were his lifeline.

But Wen Jinge avoided him as though he were a plague, disdain in her eyes, her tone sharp: “Why aren’t you on Wanzhang Peak? What are you doing here, making a scene?”

Even Huo Yongfei frowned upon seeing Qiao Yu’s disheveled clothes. Wen Jinge was always fastidious, and a disciple in such a state was embarrassing. No wonder she wasn’t pleased.

But there was something about the spiritual energy around the boy…

“Wen Five, did you teach him anything yesterday?”

“His foundation is too weak. All I could do was talk about mindset—he did chores all night on Wanzhang Peak.”

Wen Jinge didn’t try to hide anything from those present. With all the commotion last night and the fact that this wasn’t an inner sect location, there were people from other branches loitering about.

As soon as she spoke, the crowd went silent, nervous as if facing a great danger.

But Wen Jinge herself seemed unbothered and went on with her criticism: “If you can’t even handle such trivial tasks, what use are you? If you can’t keep a room tidy, how can you hope to manage the world?”

Qiao Yu was crestfallen, but everything his master said was true—he had no argument.

She was right; he was useless and had even caused his master to be questioned by the sect leader.

He lowered his head, sniffed, and forced his voice to sound normal. “Master’s teaching is right. Your disciple accepts the lesson.”

“Then his cultivation…”

“A natural sword embryo, born with a celestial vein, in the lush spiritual energy of Xuan Yun Sect—even a stone could cultivate given a hundred years, let alone someone with a celestial vein.” Wen Jinge was still cold and dismissive. “Senior brother, have you forgotten? Wen Wen also has a celestial vein—she advanced seven grades after just watching us train for two days.

Their path is different from ours. It’s easy for them to advance, but hard to control. If the foundation is weak, even if they advance, they can’t wield their power. No amount of outside help can change that—hence the tradition of sects refusing to accept those with celestial veins.”

Bai Teng’s words smoothed things over.

“Qiao Yu, that’s your name, right?”

“Yes, Mas—”

“Your fourth uncle-master, the head of Qimu Peak, is surnamed Bai,” Wen Jinge shot him a look. “What are you standing there for? Greet them all! While everyone’s here, remember who’s who. Don’t make me repeat myself!”

Though startled, Qiao Yu straightened and responded earnestly, “Yes, I will heed Master’s command.”

“Greetings, Uncle-Master Bai.”

“Qinghong Peak’s master—your second uncle-master—is surnamed Fan.”

“Greetings, Uncle-Master Fan.”

Fan Zifan gave a couple of awkward laughs. “Good, good.” If Bai Teng hadn’t stuck a listening charm to his back, he wouldn’t have responded at all. Was this really how Wen Five trained disciples? Behind closed doors was one thing, but with so many outsiders present—if word got out, what would people say about Xuan Yun Sect?

“Xumi Peak’s head, your sixth uncle, is surnamed Song.”

“Greetings, Uncle Song.”

Song Huan nodded in response, though his gaze remained fixed on Qiao Yu’s back.

“This is…” Shan Hongxing, who’d been startled numerous times as people approached, seemed calm enough for Wen Jinge to explain. “This is my old nemesis, the head of Fenglei Peak—your third uncle-master, also surnamed Shan.”

Shan Hongxing: …

Everyone else: …

“G-greetings, Uncle Shan.” Qiao Yu managed an awkward smile.

“Your Uncle Shan’s chief disciple is named Lu Feiyu—a great beauty and a master swordswoman.”

“…Master,” Qiao Yu blushed, mortified that she would bring up such a sore point when he didn’t even know Senior Sister Lu.

Shan Hongxing glared warily at the pair, but then heard: “If you have nothing to do, you can go over and give her a beating—if you die, at least you’ll feed the dogs.”

Before the words had even faded, Shan Hongxing had drawn his blade. Qiao Yu, oblivious, muttered, “I’d lose in a fight…”

“You can ask for a beating!” Wen Jinge flicked her wrist, Gouchen appearing in her palm. “Senior brother, do you want to be beaten?”

Shan Hongxing gritted his teeth. “A friendly spar, that’s all!”