Hidden Families Are They Really That Strong

Swish, swish, swish...

The howling wind raged, and rain poured down from the heavens in torrents.

The Slovenly Taoist, kneeling in the mud, shuddered all over, then suddenly opened his eyes. His aura abruptly halted at the third stage of tribulation transcendence, and his life force ceased to wane further.

But he had no time to savor the restoration of his cultivation and lifespan. He twisted around, his gaze locked on the direction from which the sound had come.

The rain fell in sheets, a blurring curtain of water.

A faint, indistinct figure stood in the rain, soaked Daoist robes clinging wetly to his frame, his face haggard, looking like a drowned chicken. Yet the Slovenly Taoist recognized the newcomer at a glance.

His youngest disciple—Chu Jinghong.

"Jinghong..."

The Slovenly Taoist looked at him, weeping with joy, two streams of clear tears slowly tracing down his cheeks.

"Master?"

Chu Jinghong stared at the man kneeling in the rain, muttering in disbelief.

He had been hiding inside his senior brother’s concealment formation.

Just now, he had sensed a familiar aura and thought it was everyone returning. But unexpectedly... it was this master, who had abandoned them all and left long ago.

"Jinghong! Jinghong!"

Seeing his once-youngest disciple, the Slovenly Taoist scrambled and crawled over, reaching the boy’s feet like a man grasping at his last lifeline, desperate to take his hand.

"Master is back. Master is back."

"I won’t leave again. Master was wrong, master was wrong..."

His lips trembled with excitement, his words tumbling out incoherently. But what greeted him was only a fist.

Boom!

Chu Jinghong suddenly raised his fist and slammed it fiercely into the man’s face, sending the Slovenly Taoist flying, tumbling several times through the mud until he was completely caked in grime.

The Slovenly Taoist collapsed on the ground, struggling to prop himself up, one hand shielding his swollen cheek, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He stared incredulously at his once-dutiful disciple.

The rain still poured down.

Chu Jinghong stood in the downpour, raindrops sliding down his pale cheeks, indistinguishable from tears.

"You’re back?"

"Now you remember to come back?"

"Green Mystery Sect is gone, and now you come back?"

"What?"

The Slovenly Taoist froze, as if struck by lightning.

Green Mystery Sect... is destroyed?

"How can it be destroyed? How?" He stared at the muddy water, repeating the question over and over.

And the next second.

Boom!

Chu Jinghong kicked him again, sending the still-dazed Slovenly Taoist sprawling onto his back, eyes bloodshot as he shouted accusingly, "Now that you’re back, what use is it? Where were you when everyone fought desperately? Where were you when Uncle Lin burned his life source? Where were you when Junior Brother Ye failed to ascend to immortality and perished body and soul?!"

"Where were you?! Tell me!"

Listening to Chu Jinghong’s furious roar, the Slovenly Taoist lay on the ground, mud and rain washing over his body, but he didn’t move. He lay there like a dead dog.

Looking at the Slovenly Taoist, now a pathetic mess, Chu Jinghong’s voice gradually sank low.

"What kind of master are you?"

"What kind of peak lord are you?"

"Big Brother even made his home at the mountain gate, guarding it every day, just waiting for your return."

"And you?"

"Why did you have to come back now?"

"Why couldn’t you have come back earlier?"

"If you had come back earlier, maybe Junior Brother Ye wouldn’t have died, maybe Uncle Lin wouldn’t have burned his life source, maybe... maybe..."

Chu Jinghong’s face was streaming with tears as he spoke, utterly anguished.

Why?

Why was only he left behind?

He fell to his knees with a splash, landing hard in a spray of water, his voice choked with sobs, "If only I were strong enough, if I could have grown up sooner, then I wouldn’t have... wouldn’t have had to watch everyone get captured..."

The Slovenly Taoist, who had been lying still like a dead dog, suddenly stirred.

"What did you just say?"

He flipped over in an instant, appearing before Chu Jinghong in a flash, towering over him, his eyes gleaming with sharp light that forced Chu Jinghong to look away.

"You said, captured?"

"Not dead?"

Seeing his master’s suddenly keen demeanor, Chu Jinghong was reminded of the days he had sought apprenticeship, and his eyes instantly cleared up.

"Yes, captured."

"Captured by whom? How did they get taken? Tell me everything, from start to finish." Learning that Green Mystery Sect’s people were not dead, the Slovenly Taoist’s aura transformed entirely. He stood like an unsheathed sword—still sheathed, yet its killing intent already palpable.

The rain continued to pour, but as it neared the two men, it was shredded by countless invisible sword energies.

"I... I don’t know..."

Chu Jinghong hung his head, dejected and dispirited. "Suddenly, there were many, many people in the sky. A young leader said that our Green Mystery Sect was colluding with demonic cultivators and demanded we hand over Junior Brother Ye. The man seemed to recognize Uncle Lin, but then the young leader’s steward was killed with a single slap by Uncle Lin. Everyone thought we were about to win when..."

"Suddenly, an apparition appeared in the sky."

"With just a look, he knocked everyone down, powerless to fight back... Senior Brother teleported me into the concealment formation at that moment."

Chu Jinghong hung his head, filled with self-blame.

If only he could have fought in that battle—what did death matter?

"Uncle Lin burned his life source, but then five more apparitions appeared in the sky, all coming to kill him."

"Six people?"

The Slovenly Taoist narrowed his eyes, puzzled.

From Jinghong’s account, he already guessed who they were, but logically there should have been seven. Why was one missing?

"Go on."

Chu Jinghong nodded. "Then Junior Brother Ye, to save everyone, forcibly drained all the spiritual energy from the Eastern Wasteland to attempt ascension to immortality. Those people threatened everyone’s lives to force Junior Brother Ye, but everyone chose to self-detonate. Yet Junior Brother Ye fell just short—he only became a half-immortal."

"He saved everyone, but he died."

"Later... not long after, another group came from the sky, calling themselves a hidden clan, and they captured everyone."

"Only I escaped, hiding in the formation..."

Chu Jinghong’s voice was low. Reliving that battle was a heavy blow to his spirit.

"Ascended to immortality?"

The Slovenly Taoist paused.

No wonder the spiritual energy density in the entire Eastern Wasteland was astoundingly low when he returned—someone had forcibly attempted ascension here. He hadn’t expected such a gifted individual.

The younger generation was formidable indeed.

"Let’s go."

He suddenly flicked his sleeves. The clouds in the sky parted, a rift split open, stretching from the east all the way to the west. Golden sunlight poured down through the gap in the clouds, like a waterfall of gold.

"Go... where?"

Chu Jinghong looked up, stunned by this mirage-like scene, still not comprehending.

"To bring everyone back."

The Slovenly Taoist stood with his hands clasped behind his back, speaking calmly.

“But… but they are from a hidden clan,” Chu Jinghong stammered, his voice trembling with worry. “Even Junior Brother Ye failed. Can we really…”

“Hidden clan?”

At those words, the Slovenly Taoist let out a cold snort.

“Are they truly that strong?”

“If they were truly powerful, why would they hide themselves? They’re nothing but rats lurking in the sewers.”

With that, he suddenly raised his right hand and gave a low command.

“Come!”

At the same moment, in the back mountains of Qingxuan Sect, an ancient, withered old man slowly opened his eyes and gazed toward the square. “You have finally returned…”

The old man gently closed his eyes again, transforming into a longsword that streaked across the sky, landing in the Slovenly Taoist’s hand in the blink of an eye.

The blade hummed.

Yet it was nothing more than a battered, decayed wooden sword.

The Slovenly Taoist held the sword in one hand, his back standing tall and proud under the sunlight, his robes billowing in the wind as he danced.

“Come, your master will take you to kill.”