Li Xingtian ignored Zhang Yuanshan's nonsense.
What did he mean by "expelled from the sect"?
His relationship with his master was undeniably solid.
Besides, if he had truly been expelled, there should at least be a reason for it.
Li Xingtian's gaze turned toward the slowly activating mountain-protecting formation, which now emitted a faint golden glow. As the light shimmered, fleeting inscriptions flickered in and out of view.
It was clear that the formation had not yet been fully activated, but even in this state, it exuded an overwhelming sense of pressure.
This was undoubtedly a high-grade mountain-protecting formation—far superior to the rough one his master had initially set up.
But high-grade also meant expensive.
When Li Xingtian had left for the Central Continent, his master had given him at least half of the sect's spirit stones.
There was no way his master could have afforded such a formation… unless he had somehow struck it rich?
Li Xingtian stood up and flew to the sect's entrance, only to feel a wave of confusion as he looked inside. A flicker of doubt crept into his heart—was this really his sect?
He glanced around suspiciously, confirming that the surroundings were correct, before turning his attention inward.
Had he lost track of time and been away for over a decade?
How had the sect changed so much?
The humble sect he remembered had been completely transformed into something he barely recognized.
Aside from the grand hall his master had always dreamed of—which remained unchanged—everything else was drastically different.
The sect now looked luxurious, extravagant, and imposing.
The most striking change was the pond, now adorned with an exquisitely crafted artificial mountain, radiating an aura of refined taste.
Beyond its beauty, the mountain seemed to serve another purpose, as wisps of spiritual mist drifted around it, occasionally shimmering with faint light.
Even the fish in the pond had been upgraded—no longer the ordinary kind they used to catch and roast, but elegant spirit fish.
Li Xingtian studied them closely and recognized one surfacing: a rare and expensive breed from the Central Continent called Purple Spirit Fish.
Legend had it that these fish could gather traces of fortune, which was why major sects often kept them.
But knowing his master’s frugal nature, he couldn’t imagine him splurging on such extravagances.
A new suspicion arose in Li Xingtian’s mind.
Had his master sold the sect’s land for spirit stones?
Zhang Yuanshan joined him, admiring the refined layout of the sect with envy.
"Brother, you’re too modest," he said. "If this is what you call ‘simple and plain,’ then most sects might as well be living in garbage dumps."
After all, every rogue cultivator dreamed of a perfect sect.
Zhang Yuanshan was no exception.
The Central Continent had a different definition for rogue cultivators—any practitioner whose sect wasn’t based there was labeled as such.
The reasoning was simple: in the eyes of Central Continent disciples, outer sect cultivators were just as easy to bully as true wanderers.
That said, the Central Continent’s atmosphere was still more civilized than most other regions.
The closer one got to the Eighteen Immortal Sects, the better the order.
Moreover, the most talented cultivators from other regions would eventually journey to the Central Continent in pursuit of greater enlightenment.
Those from the same homeland often banded together for support.
So while rogue cultivators lived harsh lives, they weren’t exactly worse off than stray dogs.
Li Xingtian still didn’t respond to Zhang Yuanshan.
He was too busy questioning whether this was even his sect anymore.
But soon, he got his answer.
Ning Qianqian approached cautiously, a shovel in hand, her gaze wary.
"Qianqian! It’s me!" Li Xingtian called out.
Hearing his voice, she hurried forward.
When she saw the two at the gate, she didn’t immediately lower the formation. Instead, she asked carefully,
"Brother Li?"
Relieved that the sect hadn’t moved, Li Xingtian exhaled.
"Is the master still in the sect?"
Ning Qianqian hesitated, recalling Chu Xingchen’s trust in her before he left, instructing her to guard the sect carefully.
Since cultivators had many deceptive tricks, she didn’t want to take risks. Apologetically, she said,
"The sect master warned us to be cautious… Could you prove your identity, Brother Li?"
After a moment’s thought, Li Xingtian replied, "Back in the ruined temple, when the senior sister was scrubbing you, I remember you—"
"Alright, it’s definitely you!" Ning Qianqian quickly cut him off, stepping out of the formation to usher them inside.
The moment Zhang Yuanshan crossed the threshold, he sensed an immense concentration of high-quality spiritual energy.
Without a doubt, given this level of energy, Li Xingtian’s sect must be a prominent force in the Southern Jambu Continent.
As Li Xingtian walked in, taking in the transformed sect, a strange sense of time’s passage washed over him.
How had his master suddenly become so wealthy?
The three conversed as they walked.
Ning Qianqian smiled apologetically. "The sect master and the others aren’t here right now, but we received a letter recently saying they’d return soon."
"If it’s urgent, Brother Li, you can wait a few days. Otherwise, you could head to the Desolate Ridge in Xuanwu Kingdom—they’re all there now."
Li Xingtian glanced at Zhang Yuanshan.
Zhang Yuanshan quickly said, "No rush. I’ve already resigned myself to bleeding my way to the Nascent Soul stage. I can wait—no need to trouble your esteemed master."
"Then, Brother Zhang, you can stay in our guest quarters—" Li Xingtian paused mid-sentence, turning to Ning Qianqian and whispering, "Do we still have guest quarters?"
With the sect so changed, what if the old rooms had been demolished?
Zhang Yuanshan gave him a strange look. Why did Brother Li seem so unfamiliar with his own sect?
Was his claim about a close master-disciple bond also something to be taken with a grain of salt?
Ning Qianqian nodded quickly and stepped forward. "Of course we do. Let me show you the way, Immortal Zhang."
Zhang Yuanshan waved his hands. "No need for formalities—just call me Old Zhang. I appreciate the guidance, miss."
But before she could respond, both he and Li Xingtian turned around.
Two Qi Condensation cultivators—a young man and woman—had just entered the sect.
The four exchanged glances.
Li Xingtian recognized them immediately as the new disciples his master had mentioned—his junior brother and sister.
Lin Luoyu and Cui Hao scanned the trio before them: Ning Qianqian and two unfamiliar men.
Seeing Ning Qianqian’s deferential posture, they weren’t fools—one of these two had to be their second senior brother.
Cui Hao glanced at Zhang Yuanshan, whose kindly demeanor made him seem like an agreeable old man—someone who appeared even older than his own master.
Then he looked at Li Xingtian, who was younger in appearance but carried an icy expression, his very presence exuding a faint aura of lethality.
This man looked like someone you wouldn’t want to mess with.
Cui Hao pondered for a moment. His second senior brother was the type who would even misuse talismans—the kind that their eldest senior sister often described as "not the brightest."
Judging by appearances alone, there was no doubt that Zhang Yuanshan fit the image of his second senior brother far better.
Cui Hao and Lin Luoyu exchanged a glance. It was obvious—both had realized who their real second senior brother was.
Without hesitation, the two strode toward Li Xingtian and the others, who stood waiting.
Just as Li Xingtian was about to retrieve the gifts he had prepared for them from his spatial ring—
Cui Hao and Lin Luoyu instead clasped their hands in salute toward Zhang Yuanshan beside him and greeted in unison:
"Second Senior Brother, greetings!"
Li Xingtian, mid-motion in pulling out the gifts, froze. His gaze turned bewildered as he watched his junior brother and sister bowing to the man next to him.
A thought struck him—
Had he… actually walked into the wrong sect?