Chapter 17: Today, I Betray the Sect. From Now On, He and I No Longer Share Any Master-Disciple Bond

Meng Baixu thought for a moment, put the huoshao aside, and wiped the table. Seeing that Xie Jing had bought two huoshao and left one on the table, he found it displeasing and picked it up, smashing it into Xie Jing’s arms.

“Hold it. Don’t put it on the table.”

Xie Jing hurriedly caught the huoshao. His mouth was still full of meat, so he spoke indistinctly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m writing a letter to Shizun.”

Meng Baixu narrowed his eyes and took letter paper from his qiankun pouch. The qiankun pouch was packed full of magic treasures and dry rations. After much effort, he found a stack of brand-new letter paper and pulled it out, placing it on the table.

Gasps of admiration came from the shidi around him.

Why were they making such a fuss?

Meng Baixu lowered his eyes and looked.

Oh. He had taken the wrong thing!

He had taken out A Complete Guide to Polite Phrases in the Cultivation World. This was something Auntie Mingyue had given him before he left, afraid that if he kept opening his mouth and calling people “old thing,” Wen Tingshu would hit his palm.

How would that old thing Wen Tingshu dare hit him?

The shidi looked at Da-shixiong with admiration. Da-shixiong was usually proper and courteous, and he even carried around A Complete Guide to Polite Phrases in the Cultivation World to constantly remind himself. Compared to him, they were truly ashamed.

Meng Baixu felt as if he had lost face. He hastily stuffed the etiquette book back in and grabbed a stack of letter paper.

He spread it out openly on the table and held the brush, just beginning to think, when he met several pairs of bright, attentive eyes.

Meng Baixu swept his gaze around with dignity. The shidi all turned their eyes away as if “looking would be improper,” not daring to peek at Da-shixiong writing a letter to the Sect Master.

Wen Tingshu heard that his disciple was going to write him a letter. Calmly using the movement of carrying firewood as cover, he turned and moved behind Meng Baixu.

Meng Baixu lifted his brush and wrote in a bold, flowing manner:

[Shizun, you made too few steamed buns. They aren’t enough to eat at all.]

There were only one hundred and eighty steamed buns in total. How was he supposed to divide them between two little cultivator babies? This sect leader might as well enjoy them alone.

Xie Jing peeked at Meng Baixu’s letter, thinking it was something important. In the end, it was just him acting spoiled to the Sect Master, saying he was not eating enough on the road?

So this was the clear and upright Da-shixiong?

Xie Jing really wanted to read his letter out loud.

Wen Tingshu silently lowered his lashes.

As expected, Meng Baixu had not eaten enough on the road and had gone thin from hunger. He should have started preparing Meng Baixu’s travel rations much earlier, instead of planning to send puppets to cook along the road and only beginning once Meng Baixu asked.

Meng Baixu lifted one eyelid and fiercely glared at Xie Jing.

He still dared to peek?

Xie Jing turned his head. “What’s there that can’t be seen?”

Of course, it was to leave Wen Tingshu some face. The contents Meng Baixu was about to write next could not be shown to anyone other than Shizun. People in high positions cared about face.

[Shizun must accept old age, cultivate diligently, and preserve your spiritual power.]

He now had two little cultivator babies. He could clearly feel spiritual power inside his body pouring like wind into two bottomless pits.

If this sect leader did not have profound cultivation, how could he afford to raise two babies?

Wen Tingshu: “…………”

Was he very old?

Why did Lanshe never forget to mention his age?

Wen Tingshu suddenly remembered that many, many years ago, when he went with Xie Tongchen to the South Sea to suppress chaos, Xie Tongchen had a mortal uncle who lived to one hundred years old and still refused to admit he was old. Every morning, he still insisted on going up the mountain with a hoe to chop firewood. He would not listen to anyone, only the family head.

Xie Tongchen had no choice but to write back every two days and remind him that since he was old, he should stop thinking about going up the mountain to chop firewood and stay properly at home. This was the family head’s order, and he was not to disobey.

Wen Tingshu fell into thought.

In Meng Baixu’s eyes, was he like Uncle Xie in Xie Tongchen’s eyes?

On the verge of death?

For some reason, he felt a little ashamed.

Meng Baixu wrote:

[These are your disciple’s words. You must listen.]

Wen Tingshu: “…”

Meng Baixu glanced left and right to make sure no one was peeking, then signed the letter with two large characters: Lanshe. He wrote the character “Lan” a little bigger, so the character “She” would be less noticeable.

“Are you blind? Standing here waiting to die?”

A passing customer bumped into the unmoving Wen Tingshu on his own, knocked the firewood from his arms, and cursed first.

Meng Baixu was startled. So the donkey meat huoshao boss had been behind him all along. He had been careless. How could he be this careless?

Forget it, forget it. This was a rural place full of ordinary mortals. One glance and he could tell this man had not studied for many years. He definitely would not recognize the learned Wen Tingshu. Even if he saw the letter, Shizun would not lose face.

Meng Baixu decided to redirect his anger onto the customer who cursed. He grabbed the chopsticks on the table and threw them backward.

“What are you barking for?”

The customer clutched his face. Seeing that Meng Baixu’s group all carried swords and had numbers on their side, he breathed heavily twice, then cowardly left.

Meng Baixu turned and saw the honest-looking man holding firewood. He frowned. “In this world, doing business as a small stall vendor really isn’t easy.”

Afraid he would worry, Wen Tingshu said, “It’s still manageable.”

The stubborn way he insisted was only a little inferior to Wen Tingshu. Meng Baixu said, “How about this? Change jobs and become a courier.”

“Help me deliver this letter to Lingshan Inn in central Yongzhou City. I’ll give you one thousand taels.”

Meng Baixu waved the letter.

This time, Wen Tingshu did not refuse. “From here to Lingshan Inn, one tael is enough.”

Meng Baixu frowned. “Just say whether you’re going or not.”

This sect leader was teaching two cubs how to become prodigal children, and here you are bargaining with me? Did you not know that when one side is educating children, not contradicting them is a virtue?

Wen Tingshu said, “I’ll go.”

Meng Baixu was satisfied. There was nothing money could not handle. Money could even make ghosts push millstones.

“Then pack up your stall now.”

Meng Baixu gave the order. This sect leader was about to leave. If this donkey meat huoshao seller got bullied here, there would be no one to care.

Wen Tingshu listened to his disciple and gave the remaining huoshao to the cultivators in the team. He covered the pot, extinguished the stove, mounted a horse, and set off.

Meng Baixu took a token from his pocket. “Take my Hengxue Sect token while traveling. No one should be blind enough to trouble you. When the time comes, hand the letter and token to Lingshan Inn together.”

Every Hengxue Sect cultivator had a token to prove their identity. Meng Baixu’s token had been personally issued by Wen Tingshu.

Meng Baixu looked toward the secret realms on the horizon. He had a feeling that he might be about to part ways with the Hengxue Sect.

The token was useless if he kept it. It was better to give it to this person. In the end, it would return to Wen Tingshu’s hands.

One day, he would snatch it back from Wen Tingshu’s hands again.

Wen Tingshu looked at the token in his hand.

No matter what identity he used, whenever malice flowed toward him, Meng Baixu would always be the first to notice, the first to act when he saw injustice.

Because Lanshe had a heart that pitied the heavens and people, he was this sensitive.

Aside from a pure heart like Lanshe’s, no one would show kindness toward an extremely yin puppet.

Meng Baixu thought for a moment and said, “If you really want to sell donkey meat huoshao, you might as well go to the foot of Hengxue Mountain. At least the cultivators there have noble character and won’t bully you.”

This was the idea he had given Li Hengnian. Li Hengnian had not gotten to use it, so he hoped someone else could.

Wen Tingshu said, “All right.”

Meng Baixu threw an autumn pear syrup candy into his mouth and tucked it in his cheek. Then he went to organize his little black horse and prepare to continue onward.

***

Another puppet identity was useless now. Before leaving, Wen Tingshu glanced at Situ Nanchun’s horse.

“Immortal Situ, the compass on your horse’s back seems to be moving. Don’t take the wrong road.”

A miss by a hair could lead to a difference of a thousand li. He would make beggar’s chicken for Lanshe at the next stop. They must not delay the travel route.

Every time Situ Nanchun saw Xie Jing and Meng Baixu arguing together, he watched from afar to avoid being called over to judge. If that happened, should he help the Sect Master’s disciple or the Xie family’s child?

It was fine for children to quarrel, but if an adult failed at balancing the bowl of water evenly, the relationship between the two families would stiffen.

He was lying on a thick tree branch and looking at the sky when he suddenly heard this reminder.

Situ Nanchun was not a careless person. Hearing this, he came down to inspect it. This compass had been passed down to him by his Shifu. It could point toward the nearest source of spiritual qi, helping cultivators in the mortal realm find spiritual qi as quickly as possible to recover their cultivation.

As long as they followed the direction indicated by the compass, it would be the shortest path toward the cultivation world. Once they reached cultivation territory, they could ride swords and travel a thousand li a day.

Situ Nanchun looked at the slightly swaying compass needle and fell into thought.

Had it not been pointing this way earlier?

He carried the compass to an open place. The needle still pointed toward the northwest corner.

Situ Nanchun looked toward the slightly gloomy sky in the northwest. This direction was not the shortest way out of Yongzhou. Could it be… could there be a stronger source of spiritual qi nearby affecting the compass’s judgment?

Heaven’s secrets were unpredictable, and the continent was vast. Spiritual qi often changed.

For example, Yangling Mountain had thin spiritual qi three hundred years ago and was abandoned by all immortal sects. Then suddenly, one day, after a loud boom, spiritual qi burst forth, and cultivators flocked toward it.

Situ Nanchun guessed that perhaps heaven had stirred itself and bestowed a stream of spiritual qi in the northwest.

He looked at the shidi, who had grown somewhat tired after several days of travel—especially Da-shixiong, who no longer looked as bright and lively as when they left the mountain and urgently needed a place rich in spiritual qi to recuperate.

Situ Nanchun decided to follow the compass.

Meng Baixu looked at the compass suspiciously. “That thing isn’t accurate, is it?”

This thing was way too sensitive. It was actually pointing straight toward the location of the secret realm.

Situ Nanchun said, “Da-shixiong, don’t worry. We’ll be able to leave Yongzhou City tonight.”

Meng Baixu irritably scratched his hair. No wonder Liu Xishi’s expression had looked somewhat reluctant when he drugged the tofu pudding.

This feeling of ending an undercover mission before he had even done anything bad was truly terrible.

He would watch and adapt.

After Liu Xishi left the Hengxue Sect, he had not returned to the Fuguang Sect. Instead, he had stayed here to make thorough arrangements and wait to receive the sect leader.

With him arranging everything, the sect members and secret realms should not be discovered that easily, right?

***

Wen Tingshu’s new puppet appeared in Apricot Blossom Village. He set up a stove and opened a small stall.

When he put the chicken into the pot, he looked at the boiling, surging clear water and suddenly paused.

Was the trembling of Situ Nanchun’s compass needle due to age and disrepair, or had it been affected by some unknown influence?

After experiencing a high-level secret realm suddenly floating above the Hengxue Sect, Wen Tingshu believed that secret realms could “grow legs.”

If it was not because of the secret realm itself, then it must be people from the Fuguang Sect stirring the waves.

If there was a secret realm nearby, there would definitely be people from the Fuguang Sect around it.

Would Lanshe encounter them?

Although secret realms were dangerous, cultivators would not be pulled into them for no reason. As long as no evil thoughts arose in their hearts, they could safely pass underneath.

But Wen Tingshu was always uneasy. He had to go take a look.

“Master, you’re not cooking anymore? Why are you leaving?”

“Hey, hey! Master, you don’t want this chicken anymore? If you don’t, I’ll take it. If you leave it here, the weasels will drag it away!”

***

At the border between Yongzhou and the cultivation world.

The moment everyone saw the cultivation world, they immediately felt refreshed and smiled. They could hardly wait to pick up their swords and ride them straight into the clouds.

Only two people had somewhat grave expressions.

Xie Jing looked at both the “new and old” Da-shixiong wearing serious expressions. He asked Meng Baixu first, “Why are you pulling such a long face?”

Meng Baixu gave him a roll of his eyes.

The new Da-shixiong ignored him, so Xie Jing ran to ask the old Da-shixiong, deliberately returning the title of Da-shixiong to Situ Nanchun.

“Da-shixiong, is there a problem here?”

Meng Baixu coldly snorted.

Did he think Meng Baixu would be unhappy just because he called Situ Nanchun Da-shixiong?

This sect leader did not want the insignificant title of Da-shixiong.

Da-shixiong referred to Wen Tingshu’s chief disciple. This sect leader did not care one bit whether he held the title or not. But Situ Nanchun might be sweating heavily over hearing this undeserved title.

Da-shixiong had to be the person with the highest cultivation in the Hengxue Sect. Whether this sect leader took it or not did not matter at all, but Situ Nanchun might mentally collapse. You had better swallow those words back.

Situ Nanchun glanced at Meng Baixu’s furrowed brows, as if he had found someone who understood him.

“Da-shixiong, you also think something is wrong, don’t you? Is there a secret realm above our heads?”

Situ Nanchun had been able to lead shidi to break so many secret realms because he relied on caution, experience, and terrifying perception toward secret realms.

This was his talent, unique in the Hengxue Sect.

“A secret realm?”

“Didn’t we come out precisely to clear a secret realm?”

“Situ-shixiong, where is the secret realm?”

Hearing that there was a secret realm, the cultivators all rubbed their fists and palms, newborn calves unafraid of tigers. They all wanted to show their skills.

Situ Nanchun closed his eyes. After a while, he said with certainty, “It is right here.”

He pointed his sword toward the blue sky, pouring spiritual power into his fingertips. A streak of white lightning flew from his sword tip, rose into the air, and disappeared into the clouds.

The spiritual power that had turned into lightning vanished!

This meant that among the layers of dark clouds, there had to be a secret realm crack absorbing spiritual power!

“Wow!”

The young cultivators watched Situ Nanchun operate and silently memorized the key points of confirming a secret realm.

Discovering a new secret realm was an unexpected gain. The cultivators were happy for an instant, then immediately reacted. Around a secret realm, there would be guards from the Fuguang Sect. So they surrounded Situ Nanchun and Meng Baixu. Without needing orders, they quickly formed an eight-trigram array and watched all directions alertly.

At some point, Meng Baixu and Xie Jing were standing back to back. Because Fengxing Sword and Qingshuang Sword were too close, their two streams of spiritual power rejected each other, letting out waves of humming.

Ridiculous.

If he stabbed Xie Jing here, first, he could avenge Meng Fuguang. Second, by killing someone as Wen Tingshu’s disciple, he could completely drive a wedge between the Hengxue Sect and the Xie family. Third, with the Fuguang Sect standing alone against two powers, they could establish their might from this moment onward!

Meng Baixu tightened his grip on Fengxing Sword.

The timing was perfect. There would be no better moment than this.

Situ Nanchun opened a special jade map and marked this secret realm. Once it was successfully marked, the secret realm’s address would appear on every Hengxue Sect disciple’s portable map.

This secret realm would then suffer endless encirclement and suppression.

Ding—

A crisp sound of gold striking jade rang out. The jade in Situ Nanchun’s hand was knocked down by a silver hairpin.

“Reckless fools.”

A person walked out from the reeds. His white robes rustled, his appearance proper and upright. It was Liu Xishi.

“Chef Liu!”

“No! He’s the Fuguang Sect’s undercover agent!”

The cultivators looked at each other, unable to fully reverse their impression for a moment. Seeing Liu Xishi act, they only felt as if he were about to hand over a bowl of tofu pudding.

Situ Nanchun’s gaze darkened. His toes hooked up, kicking the jade map into the air. He caught it with one hand and tucked it back into his sleeve, then held his sword in his right hand and aimed it at Liu Xishi.

“Liu Xishi, you caused chaos in the Hengxue Sect. By Head Zhongli’s order, I will capture you and bring you back for punishment!”

Liu Xishi waved his hand, and more sect members appeared.

“Leave immediately. For the rest of your lives, do not set foot on Xitai Mountain again, and I can still spare you.”

Xitai Mountain was the starting point Meng Baixu had chosen for the cultivation corridor. In the future, a slaughter array would have to be placed here to prevent it from being destroyed.

Situ Nanchun said with righteous awe, “We cultivators would rather die in battle than retreat.”

Under everyone’s eyes, the founding disciple of the Hengxue Sect and the vice sect leader of the Fuguang Sect failed to agree with each other. Blades met, and every move landed without missing.

This was Xie Jing’s first time seeing a battle between the righteous path and the demonic sect. His blood boiled, and he even commented, “At least they worked together for twenty years. How do these two not have the slightest old affection?”

Could Liu Xishi have put laxatives in Situ Nanchun’s tofu pudding? Or had Situ Nanchun eaten free tofu pudding at the dining hall and refused to pay?

A straightforward cultivator beside him said, “Righteousness and evil cannot coexist. What old affection could there be?”

“Situ-shixiong and Liu Xishi are evenly matched. What do we do? Do they have to fight until one dies?”

“Stop!”

All the cultivators, including Xie Jing, subconsciously thought: Who present had the qualification to stop this battle?

It was Da-shixiong.

Suddenly, Xie Jing felt his neck turn cold. A streak of cold light reflected into his eyes, and the blood throughout his body froze.

Meng Baixu had placed Fengxing Sword against his neck!

Meng Baixu had already rehearsed this scene of betraying the sect countless times in his mind. The white robes representing the Hengxue Sect transformed in one turn, and he stood side by side with Liu Xishi’s black robes.

“Situ Nanchun, you don’t want Xie Jing to die here, do you?”

Meng Baixu tightened his grip on the back of Xie Jing’s neck, making him cry out in pain.

All the cultivators were frightened into silence by this sudden change. They stared blankly at Da-shixiong, looking so foolish that Meng Baixu could take them all out with one chain of attacks.

Situ Nanchun stopped, and Liu Xishi also hurriedly returned behind the sect leader, standing tall and graceful.

The two groups faced off. If they encountered someone who judged by appearances, they would not be able to tell good from evil even if they died under a sword.

Situ Nanchun said, “Da-shixiong, you—”

Meng Baixu said, “Who is your Da-shixiong? I am the sect leader of the Fuguang Sect!”

As if afraid everyone would not believe it, Liu Xishi gracefully bowed to Meng Baixu.

“This subordinate has awaited Sect Leader for a long time.”

Receiving the cultivators’ shocked gazes, as if heaven and earth had collapsed, Meng Baixu proudly hooked the corner of his mouth.

This sect leader had truly pretended to be a good person for long enough.

He was going to do bad things now!

Situ Nanchun had not had a headache while fighting, nor was he afraid of death. But now something more tangled than death was placed before him—

How was he supposed to go back and explain this to the Sect Master?

He subconsciously said, “Da-shixiong, let’s go back to Hengxue Mountain and talk.”

Meng Baixu said, “No need. Go back and tell Wen Tingshu: today, I betray the sect. From now on, he and I no longer share any master-disciple bond. My Fuguang Sect and the Hengxue Sect are irreconcilable.”

The young man with brows and eyes like spring snow spoke clearly, his red lips curved, but he no longer had the warm, gentle, respectful appearance of before. Holding his usual fellow disciple hostage, his mouth spoke words of great rebellion.

Deep among the reed flowers, horse hooves fell heavily.

No one knew that Wen Tingshu, who had hurried here, had dismounted and happened to hear those words. He stood there in a daze, as if he had lost something important.

Situ Nanchun was speechless.

During these three months, everyone had seen the Sect Master’s indulgence toward Meng Baixu. Yet Meng Baixu was not moved at all?

One day as a teacher, a lifetime as a father.

What the cultivation world cared about most was respecting teachers and honoring the Dao. A teacher was higher than a ruler and greater than a father, supreme above all. Never had anyone seen a disciple deceive his master and destroy his ancestors.

And the one deceived, the one betrayed, was Wen Tingshu.

For five hundred years, countless young, brave cultivators had wanted to enter Wen Tingshu’s tutelage, yet not one had succeeded.

Even Situ Nanchun had been rejected at the door.

Situ Nanchun could not help asking, “Why?”

Why?

Wen Tingshu wanted to ask too.

Meng Baixu sneered. From the corner of his eye, he looked toward the southeast, beyond mountains and more mountains, where a green peak was hidden above the snow line. Above that snow line stood an immortal who had questioned the Dao for more than five hundred years.

“Different Daos cannot conspire together. I never regarded him as my Shifu.”

In the end, their Daos were different.

When he went down the mountain, he had asked Wen Tingshu whether the secret realms could simply not be cleared.

He had answered: they could not.

If they could not, then they were different.