Chapter 178: Daoyang Sect

A few months passed.

Traveling at a leisurely pace, Jiuyou had finally mapped out the general location of the Daoyang Sect. Naturally, acquiring this intelligence had cost him considerable effort. Along the way, he had also performed some "asset management" for quite a few people, resulting in several million spirit stones appearing out of thin air in his storage pouch. All in all, it hadn't been a bad haul.

If a cultivator of the Righteous Path ran into him, they would have had to praise him: "What a good man."

Probably.

Ever since then, however, a rumor had quietly spread across a ten-thousand-mile radius north of Southern Frost. Word had it that a great thief at the Nascent Soul stage had appeared. He didn't take lives or destroy foundations, but he specifically targeted Golden Core cultivators, picking them clean with swift, flawless execution. It was said that no fewer than several dozen masters of market towns had been "visited" by him, including quite a few fairy maidens.

As the rumor spread, it began to warp.

Some claimed that this great thief stole more than just wealth—he stole women, too. Quite a few fairy maidens had already fallen victim to his wicked hands.

Others swore they had personally seen the master of Baihua Market fleeing her residence in disheveled clothes, clutching her rear with a panicked expression and tears in her eyes. Even more outrageous claims followed, though they were too inappropriate to detail.

"That is the gist of it. Fellow Daoists, especially you female cultivators, you'd better keep your guard up when you travel," a middle-aged man in a long gown said inside a tavern, waving his folding fan with animated flair. "Otherwise, if you end up stabbed in the backside one day like Fairy Baihua without even seeing the culprit's face, you'll suffer a terrible injustice."

The moment he finished speaking, a young cultivator at the next table chimed in dismissively, "What does this have to do with me? Can't you share some useful news? Like where some supreme treasure or secret realm has appeared?"

The man in the long gown snapped his folding fan shut, shot him a sideways glance, and sneered. "How do you know that senior doesn't fancy men? What if you're exactly his type? After all, I've heard..."

"You—!" The young cultivator sprang to his feet, instinctively clutching his backside. His face flushed and then paled before he finally scurried out of the tavern amid the roaring laughter of the crowd.

Over in the corner, Jiuyou set down his wine cup. He choked on his drink after hearing that exchange, coughing several times before he caught his breath. He wiped his mouth. 'I merely asked a few helpful fellow Daoists for directions,' he thought. 'I kindly managed their wealth for them so they wouldn't be targeted by malicious people. How did the rumors warp into this? Sigh, truly, human hearts are not like antiquity!'

He shook his head, unwilling to linger there any longer. Tossing down a spirit stone, he stood up and left the tavern. Once outside, he checked his bearings, then transformed into a streak of golden sword light and sped off toward the location he had uncovered for the Daoyang Sect.

Behind him, the roaring laughter inside the tavern continued, but it was quickly left behind by the howling wind.

In the heartland of Southern Frost, wind and snow filled the sky.

An endless snowy mountain range stretched across the edge of the horizon. Its peaks were steep, crushed beneath heavy snow, looking as though their very outlines had been stacked from layer after layer of thick snow. Halfway up the mountain, the flying eaves of immortal pavilions jutted out from the clouds. Spiritual light flickered faintly through the snowy mist, ethereal as a painting.

The mountain gate of the Daoyang Sect sat at the foot of the peaks. Built from bluestone, it wasn't particularly tall, but the wind and snow had polished it smooth and warm, exuding an indescribable sense of age. Two characters were carved into the lintel in a rough, bold script, looking as if someone had casually slashed them out with a sword.

Two figures stood by the gate—one tall and one short, one old and one young. Wrapped in thick winter robes of the sect, they huddled their necks against the wind and snow.

The older disciple scolded the younger one beside him, "Watch the gate properly! How can you fall asleep on your feet?"

The young disciple shrank his neck, his face filled with grievance. "When that senior brother recruited me into the sect back then, he said my spiritual root was a bit lacking, but my temperament was good and I was a solid prospect. But he never said he was bringing me in to watch the front gate!" He glanced at the vast, white expanse outside. "Look, Senior Brother. There isn't a single soul out in this freezing weather. Why take it so seriously?"

The older disciple snorted and tightened his collar. "What do you know? This is a test from the sect. Only by enduring this can you be noticed by the higher-ups and glimpse the Great Dao of Immortality."

The younger disciple opened his mouth to argue, but the older one cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Junior Brother, you are too fixated on the superficial. Our Daoyang Sect has tens of thousands of years of heritage. We are a proper, major sect of the Righteous Path. First, we judge temperament. Second, we judge innate talent. And third? We judge perseverance. Why do you think I managed to endure long enough to become the captain of the gate guards?"

The younger disciple's eyes lit up. He shook his head, then nodded, signaling that he was eager to hear the details.

The older disciple looked around. Only after confirming that no one else was present did he pull a yellowed book from his robes. A few blurry characters were still visible on the cover.

"As luck would have it, I just so happen to have a motivational record from our predecessors right here. It contains the quotes of past gate-guarding disciples who persevered, all of whom are now senior brothers in the inner sect. The book is called Five Years Inner Sect, Three Years Personal Disciple." He pinched the spine and waved it around. "For just five spirit stones, your senior brother will sell it to you. You have to understand—"

Halfway through his pitch, he suddenly realized that the younger disciple wasn't looking at him, nor was he looking at the book. His gaze was fixed directly behind him. The older disciple frowned and waved the book in front of the younger one's face. "Hey, Junior Brother, what are you looking at?"

The younger disciple raised a hand and pointed behind him, his voice tight. "Senior Brother... there's someone behind you."

The older disciple chuckled. He was just about to say that no one would be out in this heavy snow, but then his hand suddenly felt light. He looked down. His copy of Five Years Inner Sect, Three Years Personal Disciple was gone. He turned around and came face to face with a young man.

It was a young man draped in a thick black cloak over a golden robe, standing amidst the driving snow as he flipped through the book. The snowflakes landed on his shoulders but didn't melt, as though blocked by something invisible. Not a single trace of cultivation fluctuation emanated from his body; he looked like an ordinary passerby.

The older disciple froze for a moment before snapping back to his senses. Anyone who could appear in this place without making a sound was absolutely no mortal. He instantly swapped to a bright smile, his speech suddenly much crisper. "Senior, what brings you to our Daoyang Sect? If you are looking for someone, this lowly one will notify a steward immediately."

Jiuyou didn't answer immediately. He turned two pages, letting his gaze linger on the text for a fraction of a second. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly before he closed the book and handed it back.

"The writing isn't anything special, but it's certainly quite passionate," he said. "However, the steward you want to call probably lacks the authority. If you're going to call someone out, bring out your Supreme Elders."

Both disciples stared in shock. Anyone who could casually demand to see a Supreme Elder right off the bat was at least a Nascent Soul cultivator. The older disciple opened his mouth, his voice dry. "Uh... S-Senior... the Supreme Elders are usually in secluded cultivation. Disciples like us who guard the gate don't have the right to see them..."