Chapter Thirty-Eight: Schemes and Power

Just as Zhang Xiao stepped out of the mountain gate, Wang Yanbo led several dozen disciples in hot pursuit. When they arrived at the scene, all of them, Wang Yanbo included, gasped in horror. The disciples responsible for the teleportation array lay dead or wounded, none able to stand. Wang Yanbo’s face darkened, though inwardly he felt a surge of satisfaction: “Hmph, I finally caught you in the act. Even if you’re an elder, to massacre inner sect disciples so wantonly—if the sect master doesn’t punish you, how can he command the respect of all?”

With that thought, Wang Yanbo shouted, “Zhang Xiao, as an elder, is so ruthless and cruel—his crimes are unforgivable! Take the less injured disciples to the main hall and report to the sect master.”

Spurred on by Wang Yanbo, even those disciples who usually cared only for cultivation could not stand by and watch. They gathered and marched toward the Maoshan Grand Hall.

“Master, Zhang Xiao has slaughtered over a dozen fellow disciples. Even as an outer sect elder, this is an unpardonable crime. Please order his arrest and punish him according to sect law!” Wang Yanbo declared, dropping to his knees before the hall.

The other disciples echoed him, shouting, “Please seek justice for us, master!” and knelt in unison. Only then did Kongxuan reveal himself atop the hall, surveying the kneeling crowd. He was already perfectly clear about the cause of this incident.

Within the Maoshan Sect, nothing could be hidden from Kongxuan if he wished to know. Far from being angry at Zhang Xiao’s actions, Kongxuan actually approved. After all, his senior brother had just told Zhang Xiao of their impending retirement, and Zhang Xiao responded with this bold gesture of loyalty. Compared to Wang Yanbo’s performance, however, Kongxuan was disappointed—after all this time and with free access to the sect’s elixirs, Wang Yanbo was still stuck in the Qi Refining stage, spending all day building factions instead of cultivating. A puppet was still just a puppet—never to be truly relied upon.

His tone icy, Kongxuan said, “Enough. I will handle this matter myself. You are all dismissed.”

Wang Yanbo had gathered this crowd to make a scene in hopes of implicating Zhang Xiao, but hearing Kongxuan’s casual dismissal, his heart went cold. Unwilling to give up, he protested, “Master, if Zhang Xiao is not executed, how can the people’s anger be appeased?”

His words stirred the others, who all cried out, “If Zhang Xiao is not executed, the people’s anger will not be appeased!” A glint of coldness flashed in Kongxuan’s eyes as he sneered, “The people’s anger, is it? Hmph.”

With a single cold snort, he sent a shockwave through the hall, leaving every disciple coughing up blood from internal injuries. “Do you all think you’ve grown powerful enough to force the hand of your elders?” Releasing his spiritual pressure, Kongxuan pressed the disciples to the floor, leaving them gasping for breath.

At that moment, Daoist Kongling arrived, flying into the hall. Seeing him, Kongxuan withdrew his pressure. Kongling looked at the kneeling disciples and asked, “Do you all think we are shielding Zhang Xiao?”

No one dared answer—after witnessing Kongxuan’s wrath, none dared be the first bird to stick out its head. Seeing their silence, Kongling continued, “Stand up, all of you.”

With a wave of his sleeve, he helped the disciples to their feet, even healing much of their injuries. “I am the one in charge of discipline. By rights, you should have come to me about this. Yet you dared to storm the Grand Hall and pressure the sect master. That is high treason!”

At his final words, the disciples were startled, realizing they had badly miscalculated. Kongling continued, his tone harsher, “You ignored protocol, burst into the Grand Hall, and showed no respect for your elders. That is rebellion.”

With these accusations, panic spread among the disciples. “Very well. Since this is your first offense, I’ll let it go. But if it happens again, the lightest punishment will be imprisonment in the Wailing Ghost Prison; the worst, your cultivation stripped and expulsion from Maoshan.”

Relief finally settled on the crowd, many regretting their foolish decision to follow Wang Yanbo and cause trouble.

Seeing that Kongling would not pursue further punishment, Wang Yanbo’s eyes darted. He stepped forward, knelt before Kongling, and said, “This was my fault. I am willing to accept any punishment. But Zhang Xiao has killed more than ten fellow disciples; please, Uncle Master, make a ruling.”

Kongling smiled, “I already know the whole story. Strip the disciples responsible for today’s teleportation array of their inner sect status and demote them to the outer sect. Zhang Xiao is an outer sect elder, equal in status to myself, and today over a dozen disciples dared defy a direct order from an elder—a crime of rebellion. As for Zhang Xiao’s excessive methods, we will discuss this when he returns. Now, all of you, back to your places. If any of you fails to reach the Foundation Establishment stage within a year, you’ll be cast out to the outer sect.”

With that, Kongling vanished in a gust of wind. The sect master, Kongxuan, looked at the dazed disciples and roared, “Get back to your cultivation!”

Thus dismissed, the disciples hurriedly withdrew. Wang Yanbo was left shocked and furious—shocked by the high status Zhang Xiao evidently enjoyed, and angered that not only had his plan failed, but Zhang Xiao’s prestige had only grown. But the matter was settled. Unable to change the outcome, Wang Yanbo left the hall in frustration.

Far away, Zhang Xiao was oblivious to the events at Maoshan. Yet he felt no concern. The reason he dared act as he did was because neither the sect master nor his teacher wanted him to be too perfect. Earlier, Kongxuan had told him that after the Nine Sects Grand Competition, they would retire. Who would succeed the sect? Not Wang Yanbo, certainly not himself. Wang Yanbo was a puppet; Zhang Xiao was not.

If he acted too flawlessly, he would become a threat to the new leadership and find himself pushed into the storm’s center, unable to control his fate. By killing more than ten inner sect disciples, he had earned a reputation for brutality, giving both Kongxuan, Kongling, and any future leader an excuse to suppress him at will. With this stain on his record, they would feel much safer about him—that was the logic of power.

Zhang Xiao saw nothing wrong with this. He knew his own limits: living freely was one thing, but managing an entire sect was beyond him. At that moment, Zhang Xiao sat at the Z City branch of the Maoshan Sect, gazing at a stack of intelligence nearly a meter high with a wry smile, steeling himself to sift through it document by document.

The reports covered the changes in Z City after the cataclysm, as well as the movements of Lan Fang, her friends, and close contacts. After the upheaval, Lan Fang had fared well—not, as in his memories, joining him in entering Shushan, but instead joining Kunlun, where she quickly rose to the top ranks among the outer disciples. Yet Lan Fang’s temperament had worsened—cold and aloof, she kept to herself, spending her days either cultivating or leveling up outside.

Lately, she had clashed fiercely with a gang called Tiger Roar. The reason: the young master of Tiger Roar had made lewd remarks to her, and Lan Fang had stabbed him through the heart with a single sword—killing him on the spot. Tiger Roar sent experts after her, but Lan Fang fought like a madwoman, never defending, only attacking with reckless abandon. Each time, she carved a bloody path to escape, earning the nickname “Desperate Third Sister.”

Seeing this, Zhang Xiao could only smile bitterly. Lan Fang had always been willful, but never to such extremes. He could only guess that his abrupt breakup with her had triggered this change in her nature. He could not deny that he bore the blame.

Rubbing his forehead anxiously, Zhang Xiao began to consider how to face her. Just then, someone called from outside, “Brother Zhang, come see who’s here!” By coincidence, the branch leader of the Z City Maoshan branch was Xia Tan.

Zhang Xiao had not expected to run into Xia Tan, the notorious chatterbox, here. Though not long acquainted, the two got along well. Glancing past Xia Tan, Zhang Xiao saw a young man, even sturdier than Xia Tan, glaring at him.

Startled, Zhang Xiao leapt from his chair and strode over, exclaiming, “Xia Cheng, you’re here!” “If not here, then where? You’re really something—vanished without a word, and suddenly an outer sect elder. If my brother wasn’t the branch master, I wouldn’t even know if you were dead,” Xia Cheng said, eyeing Zhang Xiao up and down.

Spotting the silver-threaded Daoist robe, clearly a treasure, a familiar mischievous grin appeared on Xia Cheng’s face. Zhang Xiao knew this fat rascal would try to extort him, so he preempted him, saying, “You, with your shifty eyes, clearly up to no good.”

Though he spoke thus, Zhang Xiao was genuinely delighted to see his old friend. The memories from his previous life were unreliable—at least here, Xia Cheng was not struggling at the bottom with him, but living well at the branch.

“Take these. Don’t say I’m not loyal. Your cultivation’s too low for anything better, but these will serve you well.”

From his bone ring, Zhang Xiao took out two mid-grade spiritual treasures: a Yin-Yang Banner and a Heartguard Armor. Ever since his first Yin-Yang Banner had backfired, Zhang Xiao had grown to dislike the item. As his Buddhist cultivation deepened, it suited him less and less, so he no longer used it. Still, he couldn’t give all seven banners to Xia Cheng—that would only bring him trouble. The Heartguard Armor was simpler: it was crafted from leftover bits when Zhang Xiao made his Silver Spider Armor.

Xia Cheng was deeply moved by Zhang Xiao’s generosity. In this chaotic new world, few remembered their brothers after gaining power. A mid-grade treasure was rare—even his brother Xia Tan only had one. Most people outside didn’t even own a low-grade treasure. Zhang Xiao also gave him some pills. For Zhang Xiao, they only staved off hunger, but for Xia Cheng, who was still in the Spirit Condensation stage, they were perfect.

After chatting for a while, Xia Tan left, as he couldn’t linger away from his duties as branch leader. Xia Cheng, learning that Zhang Xiao had come mainly to find Lan Fang, could only smile ruefully.