Chapter Eighty-Two: How Could the Sect Leader Possibly Be Petty?

Half past nine in the morning.

A fine drizzle drifted down from the sky, blocked by the barrier and forming slender rivulets that slowly traced the edge of its shimmering boundary.

Bai Yujing stood beneath the shadow cast by the main building, rolling up his sleeves as he set up a barbecue grill.

On the table beside him lay a bounty of ingredients—mutton, beef, oysters, crayfish, chives, corn, and more, enough to sate a dozen appetites.

Liu Shuangling strode onto the square with a practiced step, taking in the scene at a glance. She dutifully rolled up her sleeves, exposing forearms as pale and smooth as jade.

She stepped forward and asked, “Have the people from the Six Gates left?”

“Yes. I’ve decided to hold a barbecue party to celebrate clearing our names. The meats and vegetables are washed, you can start cutting,” Bai Yujing replied casually.

Tia and Zhu Ying arrived together. Hearing his words, Tia spread her hands and remarked, “I never expected it—the Headmaster, with his thick brows and honest face, can lie without so much as a blush or a flutter. He always teaches us not to lie, and yet…”

“This is a lie of kindness,” Bai Yujing explained. “Unlike your lies, which are born of malice, a lie of kindness is for the sake of others.”

Tia picked up a skewer, threading meat as she nodded. “It’s true you’re considering the people from Six Gates. If we accidentally exposed ourselves, the only way out would be to silence them for good.”

“That won’t happen,” Bai Yujing answered with certainty.

With his power, leaving no evidence was not merely possible—it was inevitable.

Liu Shuangling cut the mutton into small chunks, probing, “Headmaster, did you divine for yourself beforehand?”

“No, I never divine the future.”

“Why not?” Tia threaded her skewer, curiosity lighting her face.

Bai Yujing sighed. “I am too powerful; fate cannot bear my scrutiny. I can only skirt the edges, interfering with others’ attempts to divine the future.”

A hush settled over the group, broken only by the faint sounds of knife slicing meat and skewers threading through flesh.

Tia glanced at Bai Yujing, suspecting this too was a “kind lie.”

Fate unable to withstand his gaze—wasn’t that a bit absurd?

Though Tia knew little about divination, some basics were familiar: peering into the future always required a price.

Her acquaintance, the diviner Golas, had died not long after prophesying the existence of Paradise, struck down by backlash.

Fate always exacted a toll from the diviner; never had she heard of a diviner breaking fate itself.

Truthfully, Tia could not even imagine what the collapse of fate would look like.

She couldn’t help but ask, “What does the collapse of fate look like?”

Bai Yujing shook his head. “I don’t know. I have a vague sense of foreboding, so I gave up divining.”

He spoke honestly, but Tia clearly didn’t believe him, snorting, “So you’ve never really tried.”

“Would I dare to take risks that might destroy the world without a second thought?”

“Oh~ A kind retreat~” Tia elongated her tone, wearing a look of sudden enlightenment.

Bai Yujing’s fist tightened, though his expression remained serene and untroubled, saying nothing.

He took the mutton skewer offered by Zhu Ying and laid it onto the charcoal.

He would deal with Tia later.

...

On the flagstone square, the oil sizzled on the grill, its rhythm in subtle harmony with the drizzle beyond the barrier.

A gentle breeze stirred the plum blossoms, setting them swaying lightly.

In such an atmosphere, eating barbecue, drinking wine, and chatting at leisure was the height of relaxation.

Bai Yujing happily swallowed the last piece of mutton; the cumin fragrance combined with the meat’s tenderness made him squint his eyes in pleasure. He sighed, “As long as the ingredients are fresh, anything grilled is delicious.”

“Indeed,” Liu Shuangling echoed.

Bai Yujing tossed his skewer onto the table and stood up. “Speaking of which, it’s been a while since I last trained you. Today, let’s see how your cultivation has progressed.”

On hearing this, Liu Shuangling knew a beating was imminent.

But she felt no antipathy—only anticipation.

She, too, wanted to test her progress.

“Clean up the scene. I’ll wait for you in the martial training chamber.”

With that, Bai Yujing vanished from their sight.

The three wasted no time, dumping the skewers in the trash, returning the table, and washing and stacking the plates.

Even the grill was cleaned and placed in a corner of the kitchen.

Then, together, they headed for the southern gate of the training grounds.

Passing through the gate marked “Martial,” the closest training chamber’s door was open.

They entered directly.

Bai Yujing stood in the center, holding a brown wooden rod as thick as a baby’s fist, tapping it against his palm with crisp “pa-pa” sounds.

“For this assessment, I’ll lower my spiritual pressure to match yours. Come at me as you please.”

Liu Shuangling’s eyes flashed with gravity. She quickly pulled out her Absolute Boundary scripture and handed copies to the other two. “Channel your spiritual pressure into these, let the boundary cover your body, then we attack.”

“Alright,” Tia said, taking the scripture and infusing it with spiritual pressure.

Instantly, the writing on the paper wriggled like black serpents, rising from the surface to form streams of deep violet-black energy that spiraled and interwove in the air, finally pouring down like a waterfall to shroud her body.

Tia glanced down—violet-black streams flowed around her, like silk ribbons winding across her chest.

She looked up, voice steady. “Senior sister, junior sister, attack from both sides and keep the Headmaster occupied. I’ll strike from range with spells.”

“Understood,” Zhu Ying replied curtly.

Liu Shuangling pushed off the ground, shouting, “Go!”

The two rushed forward from left and right.

Bai Yujing vanished in a silent blink.

Bang—

Tia’s green eyes narrowed. She tried to dodge right, but was too slow.

Bai Yujing swung the wooden rod hard, striking her plump peach-shaped backside.

The boundary was no defense at all.

Pa!

The impact was sharp and loud; her wide-leg pants rippled, and even her feathered robe showed visible tremors.

A searing pain made Tia nearly cry out. She clutched her aching rear, protesting, “Headmaster, using that blink technique is cheating! This isn’t testing us—it’s a massacre!”

“You’re right. I won’t use it, then.”

Bai Yujing twirled the rod, savoring the satisfying moment—he’d like to repeat it a few more times.

The growing interest in his gaze made Tia uneasy.

Suddenly she realized he targeted her first—not because of her spellcasting threat, nor because her backside was the largest and most satisfying to strike.

It was likely because she was the mouthiest.

Oh no, my butt’s going to bloom...

Even without the gift of divination, Tia could foresee the “tragic” outcome that awaited her.