Chapter 752 533: Peak Master (Part 2)

Cui Changfu's face darkened as he spoke:

"Wangyue Marsh sits in the land of fourfold unrest. To the west lie Taiyuan and Taiyi, to the south and east is Taiqing, and to the north, Qi Shi. What good situation is there? Li Xunquan had the aid of a Perfected Lord, Zifu under his command, yet still perished in defeat…"

"That family is fairly shrewd, not driven by greed to call themselves Weili… But even so, that's as far as it goes… The deeper the entanglement with them, the likelier one is to suffer disaster!"

Having heard this, Cui Wanqing could only sigh and nod. Then Cui Changfu continued:

"We must safeguard what lineage yet remains, so there may be hope for restoration in the future. If we were to follow every passing Weili we'd soon fall into utter darkness, with not a shred of vitality remaining!"

The words of the Cui Clan of Chongzhou naturally did not reach Li Qinghong's ears. She rode the wind back the way she had come, feeling a touch of regret within.

The reason she wished to broach the matter was in hopes of drawing upon the old ties between the Li and Cui families—hoping it might be of some help, even if only to secure a hint of a condition.

Yet from Cui Changfu's demeanor, it was clear he wanted no part of such entanglements; his tone was unyielding. Li Qinghong could see this plainly, and thus did not linger, soon taking her leave.

"After all, so many years have passed—the Cui Family has suffered much collateral harm, and would hardly trust so easily…"

After all, since that final battle of immortals and demons at the breaking of dawn in Mingjin, the subsequent replacement of Wei by Dongqi, the annihilation of Dongqi by Liang, only to be destroyed in turn by the kin of Emperor Zhao and the Prince of Yan, Murong Dechang—it has already been over sixteen hundred years. In the days before heaven and earth changed, even a Perfected Lord would have died of old age by now. Perhaps those old ties have long faded.

"Later, when Dongli destroyed the sect, many more of the Cui Family perished. When faced with a Li Family member of unclear truth, showing no outright hostility… is already not so ill a thing."

Thinking thus, Li Qinghong felt the Cui Family's response was reasonable. She glanced westward, only to see several Rosy Cloud Boats tearing through the sky, casting radiant streaks of light.

These cloud boats were massive, radiant with all manner of hues. Li Qinghong, herself once a contributor of tribute, recognized at a glance that these were Rosy Cloud Boats, and her heart trembled.

"There's been trouble in the Inner Sea!"

...

Green Pond Sect.

Most days, the Green Pond Sect was enshrouded in mist and drifting clouds. But perhaps, owing to repeated Foundation Establishment failures and cultivator deaths over the past months—with abnormal phenomena shooting up to pierce the clouds—the clouds now hung thin and listless.

In the distant clouds, a streak of rosy light raced forward, trailing six-colored plumes in its wake. Atop it was a man of elegance and nobility: Li Xizhi.

Li Xizhi rode the Rosy Clouds, rushing hastily back from afar. Only upon stepping into the sect, seeing the steady stream of people, did he finally descend onto Qing Sui Peak. There, his junior brother, Yuan Huzhao, hurriedly came to greet him.

As yet, he had not broken through to Foundation Establishment; his cultivation was at the Qi Cultivating Peak. Clutching a magic artifact in his hand, he seemed a little flustered.

This generation of the Yuan Family boasted only Yuan Chengdun as a cultivator formidable enough to match the direct lineages of the Immortal Sect, but he fell in the East Sea. Of the younger generation, only Yuan Chengzhao had a chance at breakthrough.

Yuan Tuan, who could once be called a pillar of support, had likewise perished in the East Sea. Though the Yuan Family's numbers were maintained, the deaths of these two did leave them without a presentable Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Now, despite the support of the Chi Family, the pressure remained great. Yuan Chengzhao, confined within the sect, was all the more awkward for it—sitting dazed on the peak, not knowing how to face anyone.

Facing his senior brother Li Xizhi now, he had even less to say, clearly feeling at a loss:

"Master… I truly know nothing of what has befallen the family!"

"Naturally, that is not your fault."

Li Xizhi frowned slightly, keenly noting that the clothes Yuan Chengzhao wore were thin, though snowy white and of rather fine quality—not like what ordinary disciples would wear in the sect.

He smiled, speaking gently:

"How now? Sporting new robes, are we?"

It was only now that Yuan Chengzhao realized, left momentarily speechless, then whispered:

"I… this… Senior Brother! Come with me up the mountain!"

Li Xizhi's smile gradually faded. He followed in silence behind, all the way to the loft at the peak. There, in dim lamplight, a robe lay draped untidily over the desk.

Li Xizhi could not have been more familiar with the little house. At a glance, he spotted that the Green Peak sword, which once hung on the wall, was missing—its whereabouts unknown.

Beads of sweat broke out on Yuan Chengzhao's brow as he led him inside; when they reached the desk, he fell to his knees with a thud, head bowed, speechless.

Li Xizhi seemed unsurprised, his face calm as his eyes swept over the robe draped on the desk.

The garment was a faint cyan, of a single piece, exuding a gentle radiance. At the waist, a silver pendant hung haphazardly from its corner, placed without care.

Of course Li Xizhi knew what this garment was—the Peak Master's robes.

Looking at Yuan Chengzhao's inner garments, of the same snowy hue, it was clear they formed a set. It was only his abrupt return that forced Yuan Chengzhao to hurriedly remove the outer robe to meet him, forgetting about the undergarment still on his body.

"Senior Brother…"

Set side by side, all was plain as day. Yuan Chengzhao kept his head very low, sweat pouring down, but Li Xizhi showed no anger. His voice grew a touch colder as he asked:

"And the sword?"

Compared to the position of Peak Master, he seemed to mind more the sword that once hung upon the wall—the treasured blade Li Chijin had used.

Yuan Tuan's disposition was ever wayward. For years, Yuan Chengzhao lived under the restraint of his senior brother Li Xizhi, harboring both reverence and awe. Now, flustered to the point of incoherence, he stammered:

"I… I…"

Though this senior was graceful and gentle, back in the day, when he misbehaved, Li Xizhi had coldly disciplined him with the Ruler of Restraint. Now, on the verge of tears, voice trembling, he said:

"Senior Brother! The Chi Family members are coming… I feared they'd recognize our uncle's sword… so I hid it beforehand!"

He hurriedly fished the sword from his storage bag, handing it over reverently. In those days, before Li Chijin forged a spirit sword, he wielded this one while practicing the Mysterious Water Sword Technique. The blade itself was simple and unadorned.

Li Xizhi received it in both hands, took out a jade box from his own storage bag, and carefully put the sword away before quietly asking:

"The Chi Family personally named you?"

Yuan Chengzhao nodded repeatedly, forcing himself to reply:

"Y-yes! The family pressed me—they insisted I take the seat of Peak Master…"

"Mm."

Li Xizhi's expression seemed unchanged. He nodded lightly, helped Yuan Chengzhao to his feet with one hand, and picked up the cyan robe from the desk with the other, draping it over him as he smiled:

"You—your cultivation is still lacking. Establish your foundation soon, and then you'll truly hold the stage."

Yuan Chengzhao only sweated more, drops streaming down. He murmured:

"Senior Brother! This was always yours… I know that's what Master wanted too… It was always yours, I… I… do not have the strength to refuse…"

"What's this 'mine' and 'yours' talk?"

Li Xizhi chuckled softly, patted his shoulder, and gently said:

"I've completed my assignment and returned—I still need to report to the main hall. Peak Master Yuan, wait here. When I have reported in, the two of us shall have a good drink."

Yuan Chengzhao was at a loss, nodding repeatedly. Only after Li Xizhi left riding the Rosy Clouds did he hurriedly take off the outer robe, tossing it back onto the desk, as if lost in a dream:

"Senior Brother's not angry… Thank goodness…"

He sat dazed a while, staring at the silver pendant symbolizing the Peak Master's position, hands and feet hot, and could not help touching it twice.

Li Xizhi, meanwhile, rode the wind outside, stepping upon the moonlit clouds. His expression was mild, yet his eyes were cool, one hand clasped behind, demeanor upright:

'Testing me? Is this some oversight on Chi Zhiyun's part? Surely not!'

'A fine scheme indeed… Chengzhao has no head for intrigue, and covets false reputation. Naturally, he fell right in, with no escape. Qing Sui is still the Yuan Family's… most likely it's a reward for them, and as for me, I'm just here for the stick…'

Gracious and gentle though he seemed, and sporting just the right hint of anger on his face, inwardly, he felt no anger at all. He only sneered, cold:

'My Li Family counts seven Foundation Establishment, wields the Mysterious Golden Bow and Mingyang's colorful clouds, links to the Xiao Clan in the east. Should anything happen, we could even force the Xiao Clan, Ning Family, and Yang Family to act. How many peaks at Wangyue Lake could stand together? How many cultivators? All up for grabs—a shield bestowed by heaven, yet who among them would yield it?'

At this moment, Li Xizhi still maintained that youthful air of warmth and dignity, yet his calculations were meticulous. After all, he was the son of Li Yuanjiao. His face wore a gentle smile, but within, all was frigidly clear:

'In times so straitened as these, it is nothing but the classic "one hand holding a stick, one hand offering a sweet date." Well, let us watch what tricks the honored elders will play!'