Master 08

"So, you came to see me for something?" Fang Zhiyi was currently staring absentmindedly at a distant mountain peak.

The sect leader gritted his teeth. "Qingxu—no, Zhiyi, we wanted to discuss with you... about the sect's current resources..."

Fang Zhiyi suddenly levitated, raising one hand as if grasping something before flipping it downward. In the next moment, the distant mountain peak was crushed as if pressed by a giant palm, shattering inch by inch! A massive cloud of dust erupted, and in mere moments, the once-majestic mountain vanished.

Fang Zhiyi landed. "That mountain was too annoying—always blocking my view. Anyway, what were you saying?"

The group behind him shook their heads in unison. "Nothing, nothing! We just wanted to check on you, Qingxu. Are you comfortable living here?"

"Are you all so free?" Fang Zhiyi frowned. "Wouldn’t it be better to spend your time cultivating? Right, Sect Leader?"

The sect leader’s face turned green as he nodded repeatedly. "Qingxu makes a fair point. Everyone, disperse! Quickly, quickly!"

Watching their panicked retreat, Fang Zhiyi scoffed in disdain.

A scream caught his attention.

With just a thought, he appeared outside Shen Xiaoxiao’s residence. Soon, other disciples who heard the commotion rushed over, swarming into her room before dragging someone out moments later.

Fang Zhiyi almost laughed. The male lead had actually come, though things were different now—Shen Xiaoxiao was no longer the lonely little girl she once was, and her senior brothers were far from useless.

The usual protocol was for the master to speak first, but Fang Zhiyi had nothing to say. He merely frowned. "He trespassed into your junior sister’s private quarters, and you’re waiting for my orders?"

Having studied under Fang Zhiyi long enough, the disciples instantly understood. Ling Feng was buried under a flurry of fists.

Jiang Leng, at least, had the composure of a head disciple. "Drag him outside to beat him. Don’t scare Junior Sister."

Fang Zhiyi nodded. This kid had some decency.

Fortunately, the gatekeepers soon arrived and took Ling Feng away—though only after the beating was done, since no one dared provoke Qingxu Peak.

And so, Ling Feng came and went in a hurry.

Shen Xiaoxiao didn’t even remember his face.

The entire Xuantian Sect remained under the shadow of Qingxu Peak. The only silver lining was that Fang Zhiyi, having squeezed them dry, no longer sent disciples to "spar" with them—except for the Alchemy Peak, which had signed a contract to provide Qingxu Peak with free pills.

The day of the sect tournament arrived. It was Xuantian Sect’s disciple recruitment ceremony and the stage to showcase the disciples’ progress over the years. Outer disciples aimed to enter the inner sect today, and the top performers would receive generous rewards.

This year, however, the prizes were meager—after all, even the sect leader and elders had been thoroughly exploited by Qingxu Zhenren, barely scraping together enough for rewards.

Many elders wore smiles, having waited for this day for so long. The tournament required all disciples to participate, allowing them to fight without restraint—deaths and injuries were exempt from consequences. Other sect leaders and elders would also attend. They were eager to see if Fang Zhiyi would dare exploit the occasion again!

The disciples who had suffered from their masters’ frustrations after losing "sparring" matches were even more fired up. Today was the day for revenge!

Shen Wanwan, long neglected, could no longer contain her hatred. Though not particularly strong, her foundation was solid—all she needed was to slap Shen Xiaoxiao twice on stage!

The scheming against Qingxu Peak had begun.

Looking at the match list Ren Xuan delivered, Fang Zhiyi narrowed his eyes and smiled.

"I heard your Xuantian Sect has produced a Transformation Soul cultivator?" the sect leader of Jihua Sect asked. The Xuantian Sect leader nodded, though his expression was odd.

"Congratulations! I heard it’s the one who once suffered a damaged foundation—Qingxu Zhenren, right?" another inquired.

"How enviable."

The sect leader smiled and nodded, thinking to himself: Enviable? How about you take him instead? He even considered negotiating with Fang Zhiyi to "travel" to other sects. Surely, he wouldn’t just torment Xuantian Sect alone?

"First match! Outer disciple Shen Wanwan versus outer disciple Shen Xiaoxiao!"

Jiang Leng frowned. "Master, someone clearly rigged this."

Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "Rigged? Look around—everyone here had a hand in it."

"But Junior Sister, she..." Jiang Leng’s face was full of worry.

Fang Zhiyi teased, "So now she’s your junior sister?"

"Master, please don’t bring up the past."

Fang Zhiyi said nothing, lazily reclining in the grand chair he had brought. So what if she was "useless"? Did that mean she couldn’t cultivate? He remembered Yue Anyao from another world—a triple-spirit root who still ascended.

All eyes were on the two junior sisters on stage, many filled with glee. Revenge would be theirs today!

"Hmph, I’ve finally waited for this day. Shen Xiaoxiao, you’re a joke. Don’t think having someone backing you makes you special." Shen Wanwan, as usual, started with the trash talk.

Shen Xiaoxiao steadied her mind, recalling her master’s teachings.

"A cultivator’s mindset must remain unshaken. Letting others’ words disturb you is a fatal flaw."

"Your mother was a maid who climbed into bed. You think you’re a young miss?"

"Whether you walk the path of immortals or demons is decided by your heart."

"When I return, I’ll have my father throw your mother out!"

"Most importantly, when you meet such people, settle the score immediately. Holding grudges hinders cultivation."

"Scared?" Shen Wanwan sneered as Shen Xiaoxiao remained silent, gathering spiritual energy in her hands.

"Master said cultivation of the heart means doing what you want—never letting yourself suffer injustice," Shen Xiaoxiao murmured softly.

"Huh?" Before Shen Wanwan could react, Shen Xiaoxiao’s aura surged as she lunged forward.

Shen Wanwan swung, but Shen Xiaoxiao dodged. In a blink, she was right in front of her. Shen Wanwan’s face twisted in shock—then—

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Three consecutive strikes landed on her cheeks.

Shen Wanwan, furious, tried to counter, but her wrist was seized, her spiritual energy forced back. She could feel it—this seemingly insignificant maid radiated a terrifying pressure.

A dozen more slaps followed, each infused with spiritual energy, leaving Shen Wanwan’s face swollen and red.

The audience was stunned.

"Sect Leader Miaoyuan, are your sect’s matches... always this unique?" someone asked.

The sect leader’s expression was awkward.

With one final, powerful slap, Shen Wanwan was sent flying off the stage.

The entire arena fell into silence.