Fooling Qinghe into Playing

Chu Xingchen finished speaking, his gaze fixed on Wukong.

Wukong, holding an information jade slip in his hand, stood up directly:

"This humble monk understands. Many thanks, Sect Leader Chu. If there is any news, I will inform you. I shall not disturb you all further."

Chu Xingchen gave a slight nod. This Wukong seemed quite sensible now, so he softened his previously domineering tone:

"Since you're here, have a cup of tea before leaving. Yingling, no need to stand outside the door any longer—come in."

Li Yingling, who had been standing in the corridor outside the hall, promptly entered with the tea.

She had arrived a little earlier, but sensing the tense atmosphere inside, she hesitated to barge in and disrupt her master's conversation. So, she waited outside for a moment, merely letting out a faint trace of her presence so her master could sense her without needing to focus on her.

Chu Xingchen didn’t ask Li Yingling to pour the tea.

She was his disciple, not a servant. Among their own people, there was no need for such formalities.

Li Yingling was already a Nascent Soul cultivator, with some reputation of her own in the outside world.

Compared to his own imposing demeanor, Chu Xingchen cared more about his disciple.

He took the teapot from Li Yingling and personally walked over to Wukong, pouring him a cup using the nearby tea set.

Wukong clasped his hands in a Buddhist salute before lifting the cup and downing it in one go.

The moment the tea touched his throat, a soothing warmth spread throughout his body.

Wukong froze for a moment. Initially, he had assumed this tea was nothing special—perhaps even unpleasant—so he chose to drink it quickly.

But to his surprise...

Moreover, he could tell this was no high-grade spiritual tea—just ordinary mortal tea.

How was this possible?

A hint of astonishment flashed across Wukong’s face as he looked at Chu Xingchen.

Regardless... he hadn’t savored it properly earlier. As a Buddhist disciple, he adhered to the teachings of his sect.

He abstained from meat and wine, but tea was permissible.

Now, he wanted another cup to carefully discern whether the tea itself was extraordinary or if the brewing technique was peerless.

Noticing Wukong’s expression, Chu Xingchen chuckled and teased:

"Drank it too fast, didn’t you? Pity there’s not much left—only enough for that one cup."

A man can endure tenfold suffering, yet struggles to let go of the slightest happiness.

Beating this monk up would only leave him sore for a while after leaving the mountain.

But this single cup of tea would haunt him for years.

Wukong glanced at the still-full teapot in Chu Xingchen’s hand, pursed his lips slightly, but refrained from asking for more. Instead, he stood up:

"Many thanks for the tea. Wukong takes his leave."

Chu Xingchen nodded lightly, signaling that Wukong could go.

Wukong turned and left. Though Chu Xingchen’s gaze no longer followed him, the pressure of the sect’s grand formation remained, tightly locking onto him.

Only after stepping beyond the sect’s barrier did the oppressive sensation finally fade.

Wukong paused and looked back at the shimmering formation, thoughtfully rubbing the jade slip in his hand.

Chu Xingchen was no easy opponent.

Throughout their conversation, Chu Xingchen had taken the lead, while Xu Jin and Daoist Yuyang had barely spoken.

Not only did they not oppose Chu Xingchen’s decisions, they showed no dissatisfaction either.

What kind of man could suppress two prodigies like this?

A pity his words carried a venomous edge—leaving one feeling cheated yet helpless.

Wukong withdrew his gaze and turned toward the Eastern Victory Divine Continent.

Still, this trip wasn’t fruitless. As for whether Chu Xingchen’s words held truth, he had his own ways to verify.

First, he’d go see what this "winter melon" was made of.

By the deep pool.

"How is this a loss? After knowing Master for so long, don’t you understand him yet?"

Cui Hao looked enviously at Qinghe, who wore a puzzled expression, and continued,

"Master only takes advantage of outsiders—when has he ever truly calculated gains and losses with us?"

"If he really took something from you, congratulations! The next good thing will definitely come your way first."

"Just wait. Mark my words—if Master doesn’t have something good for you later, I, Cui Hao, will surrender my title as the Sect’s Cleverest to you."

Qinghe eyed Cui Hao skeptically:

"Are you just spinning nonsense to trick me?"

Cui Hao straightened with righteous confidence: "And if I’m right?"

Qinghe thought for a moment before replying:

"Then I’ll split whatever benefit I get with you."

"Deal. Just wait and see." Cui Hao agreed without hesitation.

Chen Baiqing sat quietly on a stone stool, listening to their exchange.

Though she hadn’t been here long, this conversation alone confirmed that Qinghe had fallen for Cui Hao’s trick again.

"Just wait and see"?

Even the lowest-probability events might happen if you wait long enough—a few decades wasn’t unusual.

And Cui Hao would still walk away with half the spoils.

If Cui Hao tried this on her, she’d make sure he learned that the Third Senior Sister was a woman of action, not waiting.

Though she knew Cui Hao’s deception deserved reprimand, the topic involved their master taking advantage of Qinghe.

Cui Hao could be dealt with later, but Master might get dragged into it. This time, she’d pretend she didn’t see it—consider it Cui Hao doing Master a favor.

Reassured, Qinghe’s mood lightened.

Say what you will, but Cui Hao’s silver tongue had its uses.

It might not offer anything tangible, but it did make the "loss" feel like a blessing in disguise.

The loss was real, but the "blessing" part was elusive—until Cui Hao’s words made it seem real.

That was the magic of it.

Cui Hao nodded in satisfaction. Indeed, his time away on training had paid off.

Before, Qinghe would occasionally catch on after one or two attempts. But since returning from his journey, Cui Hao hadn’t failed once.

Pleased with himself, Cui Hao decided to go see their master—maybe even claim credit if the opportunity arose.

But as he turned, he met Chen Baiqing’s calm stare.

Instantly, a smile spread across his face:

"Third Senior Sister, when did you get here?"

To Chen Baiqing, his words roughly translated to: "Third Senior Sister, when did you arrive at the crime scene?"

She answered plainly:

"From ‘How is this a loss?’ onward."

Cui Hao studied her composed tone and straightforward reply, realizing she wasn’t planning to call him out.

Otherwise, her response wouldn’t have been so simple.

Qinghe, looking at Baiqing, decided to recoup some losses from her first. With a pitiful tone, she said:

"Baiqing, I’ve run to the gate twice today for your master. I’m parched—how about brewing some tea for Qinghe?"

Chen Baiqing smiled faintly and nodded:

"Of course. You’ve worked hard. The sect thrives thanks to Qinghe’s efforts—without you, things wouldn’t be so prosperous."

Qinghe beamed and patted her chest proudly:

"No problem! Leave it to me! I’ll open that gate five times a day if needed!"

Chen Baiqing gave a slight nod and was about to brew tea for Qinghe when her gaze incidentally caught Cui Hao's expression.

Cui Hao's face was unreadable, but the meaning in his eyes was clear.

Third Senior Sister, you're teasing Qinghe too.