Master 03

The observing disciples exchanged glances, and eventually, a dozen or so stepped forward. Among them were a few who had met Fang Zhiyi before. They approached respectfully and said, "Congratulations on your successful seclusion, Master." However, their tone lacked any genuine emotion—it was almost perfunctory. Having arrived early, they were well aware that Master Qingxu rarely involved himself in affairs. The last time they saw him, he had merely nodded before retreating into seclusion again the very next day.

They held no expectations for this master. Everyone in the Xuantian Sect knew that unwanted disciples were all assigned to Master Qingxu, and Qingxu Peak had earned the mocking nickname "the scrap collection station."

The next moment, Fang Zhiyi raised his foot and kicked.

Jiang Leng staggered back two steps after the blow, momentarily stunned. Why had his master kicked him?

Then, several others beside him each received a kick as well.

"You newcomers might not know better, but I recall you few arrived earlier—supposedly senior disciples, hm?"

Jiang Leng gritted his teeth and nodded, though resentment simmered in his heart. Senior disciples? What a joke. With a master who was practically nonexistent, what use was there in such titles?

"If you're senior disciples, then how could you stand by and watch your junior sister get bullied like this? Are you fucking blind?"

The moment these words left his mouth, the entire crowd fell silent. First, it was nearly unheard of for the master of the "scrap collection station" to step forward at all. Second, since when did Master Qingxu curse so freely?

"Qingxu—" Elder Zhong attempted to intervene.

Fang Zhiyi waved a hand. "Shut up for now. Let me ask you—what are the duties of outer sect disciples?"

Elder Zhong hesitated briefly before answering, "Aside from cultivation, they handle miscellaneous tasks such as sweeping and laundry."

Fang Zhiyi sneered. "Oh? Then why is it only my Qingxu Peak disciples doing all the chores?"

Wasn’t it because you never cared about them? Elder Zhong grumbled inwardly, though he couldn’t say it outright. "Their cultivation schedule is more flexible, so they naturally take on more tasks. This was also tacitly approved by the sect leader."

"Fine! Next question—is drying medicinal herbs part of an outer sect disciple’s duties?"

Elder Zhong faltered. Tasks like drying herbs were usually handled by those who needed them. Still, he hadn’t bothered questioning it—after all, what did it matter if these "scraps" took care of it?

"Don’t tell me you’ve rewritten the Xuantian Sect’s rules while I was in seclusion?"

Fang Zhiyi pressed aggressively. Elder Zhong, aware of the watching disciples, felt his pride pricked. "Qingxu, as the elder of the Discipline Hall, I naturally act with discretion—"

"Discretion my ass!" Fang Zhiyi kicked over a nearby laundry basin. "This is blatant bullying! Humiliating my disciples is no different from slapping me in the face! Or have you forgotten? If not for me back then, Elder Zhong, you wouldn’t be standing here either!"

Wasn’t that precisely why you were still allowed to keep a peak? Elder Zhong’s expression darkened, finally deciding to discard any pretense of courtesy. "Qingxu, though they are your disciples, they remain under the outer sect’s jurisdiction. If they err, it’s the Discipline Hall’s duty to handle it. As their master, you should stay on Qingxu Peak." After all, you’re only making a show of this. Once you retreat into seclusion again—your foundation already ruined—what then?

"Oh?" Fang Zhiyi stared at him. In the next instant, spiritual energy erupted from his body.

Elder Zhong was forced back a step by the shockwave, his face twisting in shock. "You—you’ve repaired your foundation?"

Fang Zhiyi glared. "None of your damn business." He cleared his throat. "From today onward, the cultivation of Qingxu Peak’s disciples will be personally arranged by me. That means—they won’t have time for chores. Understood?"

Elder Zhong wanted to argue, but the sheer pressure radiating from Fang Zhiyi left him shaken. Not only had Qingxu regained his former strength—he had surpassed it. His spiritual energy now eclipsed even Elder Zhong’s early-stage Nascent Soul cultivation.

Fang Zhiyi glanced at Shen Xiaoxiao, who was still staring at him dazedly, and frowned. "Get up."

Shen Xiaoxiao scrambled to her feet.

He then turned to Shen Wanwan, whose face was pale with unease. How could this be? Her senior brother had assured her that Master Qingxu was nothing more than a figurehead. Why had he suddenly appeared? And why did he seem to care so much about disciples he’d never even met?

"How she hit you—hit her back."

Shen Xiaoxiao froze.

Fang Zhiyi urged impatiently, "As my disciple, you don’t swallow this kind of humiliation. If you hesitate, then stay here."

Shen Xiaoxiao looked at Shen Wanwan, whose eyes flickered with fear, resentment, and lingering disdain. She didn’t believe Shen Xiaoxiao would dare.

"Qingxu, this is against the rules," Elder Zhong interjected.

Fang Zhiyi ignored him, instead channeling more spiritual energy. His aura surged—Mid-stage Nascent Soul, Late-stage, Peak Nascent Soul!

This—how was this possible? Maybe I should try severing my meridians too?

Fang Zhiyi understood the laws of the cultivation world all too well. Rules and regulations? They only bound the weak. Strength was the only true law. Sure enough, Elder Zhong fell silent.

"Think about what she did to you," Fang Zhiyi said, eyeing Shen Xiaoxiao. "Whether you want to change or remain worthless—it’s your choice."

He turned to leave, counting silently in his head—one, two, three—then heard a sharp smack.

Shen Wanwan clutched her cheek, staring in disbelief at the lowly maid before her. Fury flooded her mind, and she raised a hand to retaliate—only for her senior brother to grab her wrist.

"Don’t, Junior Sister. Her master is still here..." He wasn’t stupid. The spiritual pressure emanating from Master Qingxu was more terrifying than even their own master’s.

Shen Wanwan regained her senses, shooting a venomous glare at Shen Xiaoxiao, who looked equally stunned. She stared at her own palm, unable to believe she’d actually struck Shen Wanwan.

"Waiting for lunch?" Fang Zhiyi called. "Let’s go!"

As he led his disciples away, the crowd collectively exhaled in relief.

"Damn, Master Qingxu is that strong?"

"That aura—I’d say it rivals the sect leader’s."

"Didn’t you see? Even Elder Zhong didn’t dare speak."

"Nothing better to do? Still gathered here?" Elder Zhong’s face was stormy as he dispersed the onlookers. He glanced at Shen Wanwan, then at Fang Zhiyi’s retreating figure, before hurrying off—he needed to report this to the sect leader immediately.

Qingxu hadn’t just restored his foundation—he’d reached Peak Nascent Soul!

Surveying the dilapidated state of Qingxu Peak, Fang Zhiyi sighed and turned to his dust-covered disciples.

"You had time to scrub floors and wash clothes for others, but couldn’t bother cleaning your own home?" Though the original owner’s negligence had led to this, Fang Zhiyi wasn’t about to take the blame—that was Qingxu’s doing, not his. Best to strike first.

The disciples, still reeling from witnessing their master defend Shen Xiaoxiao, remained dazed.

Jiang Leng, however, was quick-witted. "Start cleaning!"

Only then did the disciples scatter to tidy up. Fang Zhiyi watched them with folded arms, sighing inwardly.

Looks like I’m stuck playing babysitter again.