Chapter Sixteen: Wang Yanbo

After experimenting with Divine Footwork, Zhang Xiao returned to the bamboo hut. To his surprise, before he could enter, a young Daoist hurried over.

“Senior brother, do you know what this is about?” Zhang Xiao asked politely.

The young Daoist quickly cupped his hands. “I've told you many times—just call me junior brother. My Daoist name is Green Pine.”

“Haha, in that case, I won’t stand on ceremony. Green Pine! Green and light? Haha, that’s quite the Daoist name you have.” Zhang Xiao’s face broke into a broad grin.

“Please, senior brother, don’t tease me. This name was given to me by our master, signifying the evergreen pine,” the young Daoist, Green Pine, replied with a helpless, wry smile, seeing the amusement on Zhang Xiao’s face.

“All right, junior brother, are you here with another message from our master?” With the ice broken, the two grew closer, and Zhang Xiao asked casually.

Green Pine finally recalled his purpose and hurriedly produced a small cloth bag, pulling out a jade box and an ancient book, which he handed to Zhang Xiao.

“Senior brother, these are from our master. Inside the jade box is a Three-leaf Bitter Ginseng, to help you improve your cultivation and reach the Foundation Establishment stage sooner. As for this ‘Seven Arts of Mount Mao,’ it’s a set of seven secret techniques compiled by our master for your own study.”

Zhang Xiao’s heart leapt with joy as he took the jade box and the ancient book, deeply moved by his master’s thoughtfulness. He quickly expressed his gratitude: “Thank you, Master. And thank you, junior brother. If you don’t mind my humble bamboo hut, let me offer you some hospitality.”

Green Pine cupped his hands. “No need to trouble yourself, senior brother. Since I’ve delivered the items, I must hurry back to Master. When I have more time, I’ll visit again.”

As Green Pine finished speaking, a cloud of blue appeared beneath his feet, lifting him skyward toward the Hall of a Thousand Mechanisms—a manifestation of the Profound Cloud Riding Technique from the Scripture of the Dark Moon. Watching Green Pine soar away, Zhang Xiao couldn’t help but feel envious.

That blue cloud beneath Green Pine’s feet was the Profound Cloud Riding Technique, recorded in the Scripture of the Dark Moon. It allowed one to traverse a thousand miles in the blink of an eye, soaring through the heavens—no less impressive than his own Divine Footwork. Yet, his Divine Footwork couldn’t be used in the sky.

When Green Pine had gone, Zhang Xiao examined the ancient book and the jade box. He casually opened the book, but found he could not integrate its contents into his own attributes. Checking his attribute sheet, he saw a prompt: his cultivation was insufficient to learn from it.

So, during the Qi Refining stage, it was impossible. He would have to wait until Foundation Establishment to delve into its mysteries. He stored the book in his bone ring and picked up the jade box. It was exquisitely crafted, and when opened, a wave of bitterness wafted out.

Three-leaf Bitter Ginseng—unremarkable in taste, but a rare treasure. It needed no further refinement into a pill and could be consumed directly, though its bitterness was legendary. Wait!

Zhang Xiao suddenly remembered another use for Three-leaf Bitter Ginseng: reassurance. Its other name was Three-leaf Reassurance Herb. If one’s mind was restless, consuming it could calm and settle the spirit.

Bitter Ginseng, reassurance, the ancient book—so that was Master’s intent. The ginseng signified that his actions might make his path within the sect bitter and difficult in the future, but the reassurance indicated Master’s support. The book urged him to seize the moment and cultivate diligently.

Zhang Xiao’s mind became as clear as a mirror; in an instant, he understood the subtle message his master, the Daoist of Emptiness, meant to convey. Refusing the headmaster’s offer meant his prospects in the sect would be bleak.

Of course, as long as he could cultivate true strength, nothing and no one could dictate his fate. With this resolve, Zhang Xiao returned to his bamboo hut and threw himself into cultivation.

“Dong—dong—dong.” Three peals of a bell echoed through the mountains of Mount Mao. In front of the main hall, a thousand disciples stood at attention beneath the platform. Zhang Xiao was among them. Although he was not participating, the Daoist of Emptiness had instructed him to come and observe.

“Hey, brother, you look unfamiliar—I haven’t seen you before!” During this time, aided by the Three-leaf Bitter Ginseng, Zhang Xiao had broken through the Qi Refining stage and become a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

He had also begun to practice the Seven Arts of Mount Mao. At that moment, his mind was pondering how the Devouring Heart Curse from the Seven Arts might be cast, when suddenly someone next to him spoke.

The young man was quite handsome, perhaps twenty years old, but his attire was hardly dignified. He held a folding fan, wore only a vest on his upper body, and his pants were so tattered they nearly exposed his rear. If there were any female cultivators present, someone would have shouted “scoundrel” by now.

“And you are?” Zhang Xiao didn’t really care about appearances. He hadn’t talked to anyone in quite a while, so he welcomed the conversation.

“I’m Xia Tan. If you don’t mind, just call me by my name.” The self-proclaimed Xia Tan seemed delighted that Zhang Xiao would chat with him.

Xia Tan? Scattered Talks? Scared Stiff? That name wasn’t much better than the Daoist’s Green Pine. Sensing Zhang Xiao’s odd look, Xia Tan quickly explained, “Xia as in summer, Tan as in pond. May I ask your name, brother?”

Zhang Xiao nodded. “I’m Zhang Xiao.”

“Ah! Brother Zhang Xiao. You look unfamiliar—why haven’t I seen you before?” Xia Tan asked casually.

“I—”

“Oh, say no more. I know—you must be one of the last to join the sect!” Before Zhang Xiao could reply, Xia Tan cut him off. Seeing Zhang Xiao smile and not correct him, Xia Tan grew even more pleased with himself.

“Brother, you came a bit late. Those who entered last may be expelled to become outer sect disciples.”

Zhang Xiao did not dispute this; those who joined last were likely to be removed from the inner sect because of their limited cultivation time.

Seeing Zhang Xiao’s silence, Xia Tan thought he had hit a sore spot and quickly consoled him. “Don’t be discouraged. I hear the outer sect offers much more freedom. But among you latecomers, there’s said to be a genius—someone who reached the Spirit Condensation stage in just a month, rumored to possess a precious family heirloom, a superior spiritual treasure. His strength nearly rivals Big Brother Wang’s.”

“Oh? To reach Spirit Condensation in a month—that is impressive talent. But who is this Big Brother Wang?”

Zhang Xiao rarely left his hut; apart from cultivating and visiting the Hall of a Thousand Mechanisms, he had little contact with other disciples, so he didn’t recognize the name.

“You don’t know Big Brother Wang?” Xia Tan looked at Zhang Xiao as if he were a curiosity. Seeing Zhang Xiao’s genuine confusion, he explained, “You really don’t know what you’ve been doing since you joined the sect. Listen well—Big Brother Wang’s name is Wang Yanbo. He was among the earliest to join, rumored to have a military background and outstanding strength. They say he’s nearly reached the Qi Refining stage. Besides possessing a lower-grade spiritual treasure, he also has an Iron Corpse bodyguard he can summon for combat. Right now, he’s the number one disciple of Mount Mao. It’s said the headmaster himself received him recently and bestowed upon him a superior spiritual treasure. Unless something unexpected happens, he’s sure to become Mount Mao’s inaugural disciple in this grand competition.”

At this, Zhang Xiao was struck by the realization that Wang Yanbo was to become his replacement. He sighed inwardly, unsure whether to feel happy for the man or pity him.

Xia Tan went on to describe several other famous sect experts, but to Zhang Xiao, none of them seemed particularly remarkable—not even Wang Yanbo, who hadn’t yet entered the Foundation Establishment stage.

Watching Xia Tan brag in front of him, Zhang Xiao wondered what expression Xia Tan would make if he knew Zhang Xiao had already broken through to Foundation Establishment.

As they spoke, a commotion erupted in the crowd. “Look! Senior Brother Wang is here! Greetings, Senior Brother Wang!” Xia Tan exclaimed, pointing to a young man striding forward.

Zhang Xiao followed his gaze. Wang Yanbo, dressed in Daoist robes, wore an aloof expression as he was greeted warmly by those around him. He responded with proud courtesy, but it seemed to be out of habit—when he passed Zhang Xiao, he even nodded at him. Zhang Xiao merely glanced back indifferently.

Two steps later, Wang Yanbo’s expression changed. He realized that Zhang Xiao had not greeted him—while he had offered a nod, Zhang Xiao had only returned it with a nod of his own.

With this in mind, Wang Yanbo turned and walked toward Zhang Xiao. “Senior Brother Wang, is there something you need?” Xia Tan hadn’t noticed the earlier slight and quickly went up to greet him.

“Hmph! Who is this fellow beside you? Why haven’t I seen him before?” Wang Yanbo didn’t even look at Xia Tan as he spoke.

“Oh! He’s one of the latest batch of disciples, so you wouldn’t have seen him. Zhang Xiao, come greet Senior Brother Wang!” Xia Tan turned to Zhang Xiao and called.

What a joke—why should someone at the Foundation Establishment stage take the initiative to greet a Spirit Condensation disciple? Even if Wang Yanbo was to become the sect’s chief disciple, Zhang Xiao wasn’t interested.

Thinking this, Zhang Xiao turned to leave, presenting Wang Yanbo with a view of his back. The crowd was stunned—who would dare so brazenly ignore the future chief disciple? Was he courting death?

When they learned Zhang Xiao was among the last to join, the whispers, reprimands, and sighs grew even louder.

“Stop! How dare a newcomer show such disrespect to his seniors!” Wang Yanbo shouted, his face darkening at the crowd’s reaction. With the headmaster’s support, his position as chief disciple was all but secured—yet this upstart dared to slight him now, in public, undermining his authority.

Zhang Xiao turned and smiled. “And what kind of senior are you? The grand competition hasn’t even begun. Until then, all disciples are equals. If you want me to call you senior brother, you’ll have to wait until after the competition.”

“How dare you! Boy, you’ve got nerve to speak to Senior Brother Wang like that. Let me teach you a lesson!” Eager to ingratiate themselves with Wang Yanbo, some lackeys seized the opportunity. One raised a fist and swung at Zhang Xiao.

Zhang Xiao glanced at the man—well-built, but only in the Qi Drawing stage, not even at Spirit Condensation.

As the fist approached, Zhang Xiao sidestepped and struck with his left palm. With a loud thud, before anyone could see what happened, a shadow shot through the air, sent flying by Zhang Xiao’s blow.