Master 09

Not only because of the spiritual energy Shen Xiaoxiao unleashed, but also because this might be the first disciple duel in the entire Xuantian Sect—no, the entire continent—to be decided by slapping!

They had initially kept watching, thinking Shen Wanwan was too weak. But then, the disciples of Qingxu Peak completely defied expectations. Gone were the days of being chased around during sparring sessions—now they could defend, dodge, and even attack with pinpoint accuracy.

Especially their senior brother, Jiang Leng. He actually managed to fight Ren Xuan, the sect leader’s second disciple, to a standstill! Even in defeat, it was a close match, far from the humiliating, one-sided revenge they had hoped to witness.

"Master..." Jiang Leng stood before Fang Zhiyi, his expression somewhat dejected.

"You fought well," Fang Zhiyi patted his shoulder. These disciples had already exceeded his expectations. With the resources poured into them, his guidance, and the observational and combat skills honed through countless sparring sessions, they had come much further than anyone could have imagined for such "untalented" disciples.

Meanwhile, on the viewing platform, the sect leader, Miaoyuan, had the same realization. He glanced in Fang Zhiyi’s direction. No way… Did that madman actually use all those rare treasures on those worthless scraps? Otherwise, there’s no way they could’ve improved so quickly!

The mere thought of what Fang Zhiyi had done made his heart bleed. So what if you’ve reached the Divine Transformation stage? If you’d used those treasures yourself, we wouldn’t have complained—we might’ve even benefited from your rise. But to waste them on these hopeless disciples? What a disgrace!

With the sect competition concluded, Fang Zhiyi met with leaders from other sects. Each one came to exchange pleasantries, no different from ordinary people—power attracted sycophants.

Before the sect leader could figure out how to broach the subject with Fang Zhiyi, news arrived.

Elder Zhong came rushing over, barely containing his glee.

"What? The entire Qingxu Peak is leaving for a training expedition? All of them?"

Elder Zhong could hardly suppress his joy. "Yes! And from the looks of it, they’ll be gone for a long time."

When Fang Zhiyi led his disciples to the sect gates, a massive crowd gathered behind them. The sect leader even put on a reluctant farewell act, while Elder Zhong feigned concern.

"Master, the sect leader looks like he’s trying not to laugh."

"Not just trying—he is trying not to laugh."

"And Elder Zhong keeps pinching his own leg."

"I noticed. That’s why I stood there a little longer."

A burst of laughter erupted from behind them. The group turned around.

"Master… do people really hate us that much?" Shen Xiaoxiao asked.

"I quite enjoy the sight of them despising me but being utterly powerless to do anything about it."

Their first stop was Shen Xiaoxiao’s family home. The Shen household was overjoyed to receive cultivators—until Fang Zhiyi announced he was there to seek justice for his youngest disciple.

By that evening, word had spread through Chang’an: the Shen family’s concubine had divorced the family head, mediated by a mighty expert from the Xuantian Sect.

By the next retelling, it became: A mighty expert from the Xuantian Sect forced the Shen family head to divorce his concubine.

By the time Shen Xiaoxiao had settled her mother and the group set off again, the rumor had evolved further:

"Did you hear? A demonic cultivator came to Chang’an, took a fancy to some concubine in the Shen family, and forced the divorce!"

"Ugh, just laugh if you want to," Fang Zhiyi grumbled.

His disciples burst into laughter, while Shen Xiaoxiao looked apologetic. "Master, I’m sorry..."

Ah, the thoughtfulness of girls, Fang Zhiyi mused. "It’s fine. Playing the villain for once won’t hurt."

Jiang Leng and the others didn’t understand how their master had such incredible luck. Everywhere they went, he seemed to stumble upon opportunities, and they reaped the benefits, their cultivation advancing steadily.

But their good fortune meant someone else’s misfortune.

Ling Feng, fleeing from pursuers, stumbled into a cave and fell straight into a hidden realm.

His initial elation vanished when he realized the place had been picked clean—even the spiritual trees had been chopped down. Empty-handed, he left, though at least his pursuers were gone.

The pattern repeated: he’d wander into a sacred ground, only to be beaten and thrown out. He’d discover a rare beast, only for its parents to return and nearly kill him.

Ling Feng couldn’t decide if he was lucky or cursed.

Meanwhile, Shen Wanwan, upon receiving a letter from home, nearly ground her teeth to dust. In the Xuantian Sect, she had become a laughingstock.

"Look, that’s the one who got knocked out by slaps during the competition!"

"The slap victim."

People stared at her—some curious, some pitying. Even new disciples knew the story. For a cultivator to be beaten unconscious by repeated slaps was beyond absurd. Hatred festered in Shen Wanwan’s heart.

Even her own senior brothers avoided her now.

Her master, after being extorted by Master Qingxu a few times, had grown distant. Her monthly allowance had shrunk to the lowest among her peers.

Elder Zhong, ever the opportunist, followed the sect leader’s lead and treated her coldly.

Every moment was agony for Shen Wanwan.

Then came the letter from home, blaming her for failing in her cultivation and allowing Shen Xiaoxiao to return in triumph. Her father had fallen ill from the humiliation.

Seething with resentment, Shen Wanwan wandered aimlessly—until something answered the darkness in her heart.

When the patrol shift changed, she slipped into the Enforcement Hall and found a forbidden artifact.

As her hand touched it, a cruel smile spread across her face.

You all look down on me? You all laugh at me? Then you’ll pay the price!

The remnant soul within the artifact sensed her bitterness and writhed in delight.

Shen Wanwan vanished.

Apart from Ren Xuan, no one searched seriously. She had never trained hard, and her relationships were strained—maybe she’d just slunk away in shame.

Only Ren Xuan sighed in regret.

Then, one night, under a pale moon, screams tore through the Xuantian Sect.

Elders rushed out, the air thick with blood and demonic energy.

"Demonic cultivator attack!"

"That person… she looks familiar—isn’t that the one who got slapped?"

Shen Wanwan’s blood-red eyes locked onto the speaker. With a flick of her hand, the disciple exploded into gore.

"Traitor! What have you done?!" The sect leader and elders arrived in fury.

"What have I done? You should ask what I’m going to do. I’ll slaughter every last one of you who mocked me!"