The night passed quietly. At dawn, the first streak of sunlight broke through the horizon, sweeping across the Qingxiao Sect. Droplets of melted snow dripped from the eaves—signaling that winter was finally loosening its grip.
Li Qingqiu rose early as usual to cultivate and draw in spiritual energy. The other disciples did the same, sitting cross-legged before the mountain gate, facing the mist-shrouded peaks. The grand sight of mountains veiled in morning fog helped them settle into a meditative state with ease.
Despite the chaos of last night, none of them seemed shaken. If anything, the event had pushed them to cultivate with greater focus and discipline.
Inside his room, Yang Jueding remained bedridden. His old wounds had yet to heal, and the poison had left his body weak once again.
After an hour of cultivation, Li Qingqiu stood and dismissed everyone. Jiang Zhaoxia pulled Wu Man'er along toward the back mountain to train. Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue went to chop firewood and feed the chickens, while the youngest, Li Sifeng and Li Sijin, were only told to be careful and avoid danger.
Li Qingqiu then went to Yang Jueding's quarters and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Yang Jueding's voice sounded weak and weary. Unlike cultivators, he still needed rest—and after spending all night expelling poison, his exhaustion showed.
Li Qingqiu entered, closing the door behind him. He walked to the table, sat down, and asked, "That manual—where did you get it?"
Yang Jueding opened his eyes and looked over. "Half a year ago, there was a rumor spreading around Fuyang Lake," he said slowly. "People claimed that when the tide receded, a path to the lakebed would appear. Supposedly, there was a hidden chamber left behind by a martial legend from a hundred years ago. I joined the crowd out of curiosity, and sure enough, the path was real. I went down with a group of martial artists, and by sheer luck, I found a box containing that manual.
"When I came out, I ran into an expert from the Qing Sect. I fought him off, thought that would be the end of it, but they later ambushed me after my duel with the Sword Saint of the Vast Sea left us both injured."
A bitter look crossed his face as he spoke. "All that trouble… for a fake manual. What a loss."
"Since you knew it was fake," Li Qingqiu asked, "why didn't you just give it to the Qing Sect?"
Yang Jueding's eyes widened in anger. "Fake or not, I'd never hand it over! Who knows what havoc they'd cause waving it around? Those people love to boast and deceive, tricking nobles and extorting the common folk. To them, it doesn't matter if the manual works. They just want the fame that comes with it."
He clenched his fists as he continued, his tone cold. "If word spreads that the Qing Sect seized a divine manual from the Dragon-Subduing Hero, their prestige would soar. They might even curry favor with the imperial court. That's what they're after—status and power. I told them the manual was fake, but they'd never believe me. Even if I gave it to them, they'd still kill me, and only stop once they confirmed there was no second copy."
Li Qingqiu nodded thoughtfully. "Between the Qing Sect and the White Emperor Mansion, who's stronger?"
Yang Jueding thought for a moment. "Roughly the same. But the White Emperor Mansion has ties to the court. The Qing Sect doesn't dare provoke them directly. The two sides rarely clash—White Emperor Mansion no longer meddles much in the martial world, while the Qing Sect's ambition has only grown. They want to become the ruler of Jianghu."
Their conversation continued, and through Yang Jueding's words, Li Qingqiu gained a clearer picture of Guzhou's martial landscape.
He learned that the Great Li Dynasty was vast—far larger than the China of his previous life. Guzhou alone was nearly half that size, dotted with over ten major prefectural cities and countless martial sects.
They spoke until Yang Jueding began to cough. Li Qingqiu decided to end the talk there and left the room.
He planned to practice the Gale Technique next. After watching the fight last night, he'd realized his movement technique was still far inferior to those of martial experts.
As for the Supreme Sword Defense Technique, he decided to set it aside for now. The technique required nine swords to unleash its true power, and he didn't yet have the means to do so.
Once he learned more techniques, he'd organize them properly. After all, his time and energy were limited—he couldn't master everything at once. Still, he wouldn't abandon it completely. A divine sword art like that was worth keeping.
Days passed quickly.
Within a few days, most of the snow in the forest had melted away, and Yang Jueding was finally able to walk again. He avoided Wu Man'er altogether and wisely never mentioned his bet with Jiang Zhaoxia.
Soon his attention turned to the youngest disciples, Li Sifeng and Li Sijin.
'They're so young,' he thought, watching them train, 'but they already show such potential… This sect really is strange. Too many geniuses for such a small place.'
Half a month later, Zhang Yuchun couldn't resist any longer and took Wu Man'er and Li Dongyue down the mountain to recruit new disciples. Yang Jueding was forbidden to leave Qingxiao Sect by Li Qingqiu's order—if the Qing Sect was still searching for him, leaving would only bring trouble.
Yang Jueding didn't argue; he had the same thought himself.
That night, Zhang Yuchun and the others returned with seven children—six boys and one girl, the oldest no more than thirteen, the youngest only six.
After a simple initiation ceremony, Li Qingqiu checked their status panels.
Every single one of them had poor aptitude and dull comprehension. Not even one showed decent potential.
Li Qingqiu couldn't help but sigh. 'Master really left me a fine mess…'
Judging by Lin Xunfeng's past choices, his ambitions had been vast—but he'd clearly been too blinded by the path of immortality to see reality.
Li Qingqiu arranged the new disciples' housing—boys and girls separate, sharing rooms with their seniors. None of the older disciples minded; in fact, they were excited. For the first time, they were the "elders."
For the first seven days, Li Qingqiu let the newcomers get familiar with the sect grounds. Afterward, he assigned Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue to teach them the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra.
Li Dongyue would later take up the role of Teaching Elder, while Li Sifeng and Li Sijin's future roles were yet to be decided.
Within a month, under Yang Jueding's instruction, Li Sifeng's progress amazed everyone—he could already run across rooftops and leap from eave to eave, leaving the new recruits wide-eyed in admiration.
Winter gradually faded, and spring was just around the corner.
The Great Li Dynasty celebrated the Spring Festival too, and every year at this time, Li Qingqiu couldn't help but think of his past life.
That afternoon, he sat in the courtyard resting after finishing his Gale Technique practice. He was tired, but as he watched his disciples bustling about—training, feeding animals, cleaning—his heart felt calm and content.
Some were sweeping the courtyard, some fetching water, others repairing the eaves—everything in Qingxiao Sect was slowly falling into order.
Jiang Zhaoxia and Zhang Yuchun entered the courtyard together, one before the other, and sat down on either side of Li Qingqiu.
"Senior Brother, we need to talk," Jiang Zhaoxia said casually. "We want to go down the mountain to the nearby town to buy some weapons. What do you think?"
At the moment, the entire Qingxiao Sect only had two swords, and one of them had been taken away by Lin Xunfeng. Jiang Zhaoxia had been holding back for quite some time now.
He wanted a sword—a real one.
And not just him. The other disciples needed weapons too. They couldn't rely on fists and kicks forever.
Li Qingqiu gave him a sidelong glance. "And where exactly do we get the money for that?"
Zhang Yuchun chimed in, "We plan to perform sword techniques in town for tips. Senior Brother, if the sect wants to grow, we need money. I'm also thinking we can use this chance to spread the name of Qingxiao Sect. Later, we can earn silver by helping people solve their problems or deal with trouble. We really need funds—the food alone can't keep up with so many mouths."
Helping others resolve conflicts or fend off bullies was how many martial sects had started. To put it bluntly, it was paid mercenary work.
And fame brought followers—once they made a name for themselves, new disciples would come naturally.
Li Qingqiu had wanted to wait a few years before expanding, but Zhang Yuchun's reasoning was solid. They weren't picking fights with major sects, and both Zhang Yuchun and Jiang Zhaoxia were capable enough to protect themselves.
"Alright," Li Qingqiu said finally. "But remember this—outside, you must stay cautious. Don't underestimate others because of your strength, and don't start fights lightly."
He trusted the two of them together.
Jiang Zhaoxia rolled his eyes. "What, you think we're still kids?"
Zhang Yuchun nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Senior Brother. I'll make sure to keep Third Brother in check."
"…"
Jiang Zhaoxia glared at him resentfully, but Zhang Yuchun stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice.
After chatting for a bit, Jiang Zhaoxia grew restless. The nearest town was at least two days away by foot, and they'd have to camp in the forest for a night.
Li Qingqiu could only pack them some dry rations and water before seeing them off at the mountain gate.
He stood there, watching the two of them walk away down the winding path, and couldn't help recalling the day Lin Xunfeng had left.
"Be sure to come back before the New Year!" he called out.
"Don't worry, Senior Brother!"
Zhang Yuchun turned back with a bright smile and waved, while Jiang Zhaoxia didn't even look back.
Even after their figures vanished into the forest, Li Qingqiu's eyes lingered on the empty path.
"Don't fret," came Yang Jueding's voice beside him. "That boy Jiang's got real skill, and Zhang Yuchun's not weak either. I'd be more worried for those poor fools down there who cross paths with them."
Yang Jueding truly meant it. Jiang Zhaoxia had been pestering him for sparring matches recently, eager to gain real combat experience. At first, when Yang Jueding wasn't using inner energy, he could easily suppress the boy.
But Jiang Zhaoxia's improvement was absurdly fast—every bout became fiercer, every move more lethal. By the end, Yang Jueding often found himself breaking into cold sweat.
'That kid's destined for greatness,' he thought more than once.
It was precisely because of those duels that Li Qingqiu had agreed to let them go. He had seen firsthand how much Jiang Zhaoxia had learned under Yang Jueding's guidance.
Li Qingqiu finally smiled and said, "I can't help it. It's their first time going down the mountain. I'd be a bad senior brother if I didn't worry a little."
He turned and started walking back toward the sect grounds.
Yang Jueding tilted his head. "Sect Master, when will you let me witness your swordsmanship? That kid Jiang says your sword talent surpasses his by far."
Without looking back, Li Qingqiu replied simply, "Forget it. I'm not fond of fighting."
Yang Jueding watched his back as he walked away, the faintest frown crossing his face. The more he saw, the more mysterious this young sect master seemed.
…
The next few days passed slowly. Though Li Qingqiu went about his usual routine, he couldn't quite shake his unease. He worried something might happen to the two brothers—but he never voiced it aloud.
Finally, on the eve of the Spring Festival, at sunset, a shout came from beyond the gate.
"Senior Brother! We're back! Somebody come help us!"
Hearing Zhang Yuchun's voice, Li Qingqiu and the others rushed toward the entrance at once.
Li Qingqiu moved the fastest. When he arrived and saw them, he exhaled in relief.
Zhang Yuchun and Jiang Zhaoxia each carried a shoulder pole, heavy bundles hanging on both ends. The glint of steel peeked out from the packages—blades, spears, and swords reflecting the cold evening light. Both men looked whole and uninjured.
So that's what they meant by help. For a moment, he'd thought they'd been attacked.
Turning to the approaching disciples, Li Qingqiu motioned for them to help carry the goods while he stood aside—after all, a sect master shouldn't be hauling supplies.
As he watched, his gaze shifted to the figure trailing behind Zhang Yuchun.
It was a small beggar—filthy from head to toe, painfully thin, hair matted and tangled. The dirt on the face made it hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl.