Qingxiao Sect officially renamed its contribution points to Dao Fate, while simultaneously announcing the monthly Dao Fate stipends for disciples of every rank. The notice was posted all over Qingxiao Mountain, sparking wide discussion among the disciples.
Outer Disciples would receive 10 Dao Fate each month, Inner Disciples 20 Dao Fate, and True Disciples 50 Dao Fate. In the Scripture Repository, martial manuals on the third floor were priced at over 100 Dao Fate, while spell manuals on the fourth floor started at 1,000 Dao Fate. Overall, these stipends satisfied every rank of disciple. No matter one's position, there was a sense of hope and upward mobility.
In addition to their monthly stipends, disciples could earn extra Dao Fate by contributing to the sect—through construction projects, inventing new techniques, or completing commission tasks from Training Hall.
Dao Fate could be exchanged for martial arts manuals, weapons, spirit stones, spiritual herbs, talismans, and many other treasures. Everyone understood that the sect would eventually release even more things to trade for.
It was worth noting that the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra could not be purchased with Dao Fate. As long as one's cultivation realm reached the appropriate stage, one could go directly to the Cultivation Hall to receive the next layer of the Sutra.
Dao Fate itself could not be transferred between disciples, but the items exchanged for it could be traded privately. This flexibility gave noble-born disciples and wealthy patrons new opportunities to engage with the system.
To prevent potential conflicts, the Law Enforcement Hall took on heavier responsibility, issuing new regulations specifically for managing Dao Fate transactions.
Li Qingqiu, however, didn't feel pressured. The sect was still essentially ruled by his word alone. Should any problems arise, he could adjust things immediately. Qingxiao Sect was in a stage of experimentation—trial and error was natural.
Over time, the balance between Dao Fate and mortal money would find its own rhythm. No rule was absolute.
While Qingxiao Sect was rapidly evolving internally, the world below the mountain was plunging deeper into chaos.
Throughout Guzhou, uprisings erupted across multiple regions. The provincial government's control over its counties had collapsed completely. As the old saying went, "In troubled times, heroes rise." Many men began to believe they themselves were destined to become such heroes.
By May, waves of refugees reached the foot of Qingxiao Mountain, seeking shelter from the war and hoping to be taken in by the sect.
Zhang Yuchun refused their request. He provided them with food, then ordered them to leave.
But the refugees didn't go far. They hid in the Taikun Mountain Range, occasionally sneaking back to beg for more food from the sect.
When June came, the Grand Dao Combat Tournament entered its Top 64 stage.
By the end of the month, the Top 64 disciples had been decided, and the Spirit Management Hall publicly posted the ranking list. The lowest cultivation among them was the third layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm. Each one of these disciples had already become famous within the sect.
Everyone could see how many talented individuals Qingxiao Sect possessed. Each of the Top 64 had fought their way up through match after match, relying purely on their strength.
Even some True Disciples with well-known reputations had been eliminated.
That day, at noon—
A group of True Disciples entered Lingxiao Pavilion. Among them was Yu Lin, ranked second among the Seven Sons of Qingxiao. His expression was downcast as he walked at the rear.
The Seven Sons were the earliest disciples of Qingxiao Sect and had contributed greatly to its foundation. But talent was something one could not force. Apart from Huang Shan, who had recently broken through to the fourth layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm, the other six had all stagnated at the third layer—even after gaining access to the sect's cultivation resources and training grounds.
For them, that one-layer gap felt like an uncrossable chasm.
Being summoned by Li Qingqiu filled Yu Lin with shame.
The other True Disciples, however, were cheerful and confident, thinking their strong performances had earned the Sect Master's favor.
When they arrived, they found not only Li Qingqiu but also Shen Yue and Jiang Zhaoxia present.
At the sight of the two elders, the disciples fell silent and stood respectfully in rows.
Li Qingqiu glanced over the thirty True Disciples standing before him and nodded, satisfied with their discipline. He then explained his purpose—telling them about the Source Iron Blessed Land, a newly established cultivation site. They were to be sent there to guard it.
That place was rich in spiritual energy—comparable to the Thousand Spirits Blessed Land.
The disciples, including Yu Lin, were instantly excited.
It was a tremendous opportunity.
Everyone knew that disciples assigned to guard spirit mines often rose quickly through the ranks. Even after being reassigned, they usually advanced faster than others.
Such chances were rare.
All thirty disciples immediately knelt and thanked Li Qingqiu.
"Go prepare," Li Qingqiu said with a wave of his sleeve. "Tomorrow, Elder Jiang and Elder Shen will lead you there. Yu Lin, stay."
The disciples bowed deeply and left one by one.
When the courtyard emptied, only Yu Lin remained. He stood nervously before Li Qingqiu, unable to meet his gaze.
"Why so tense, my disciple-nephew?" Li Qingqiu asked with a smile. "I'm not going to eat you."
That single word—disciple-nephew—hit Yu Lin straight in the heart. His composure broke completely. With a thud, he dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the ground. Tears streamed down his face.
"Master-Uncle," he cried, "I've failed your teachings! I've shamed you and my master!"
The Seven Sons of Qingxiao had all been born in the villages below the mountain. They were the first disciples ever accepted by the sect, all personally taught by Zhang Yuchun. They had witnessed the sect's growth from nothing.
But as the sect expanded and more disciples joined, the gap between them and Li Qingqiu had widened. They could no longer come and go freely from Lingxiao Pavilion. Seeing him in person had become a rare privilege.
Yu Lin had believed that Li Qingqiu had long forgotten them. So when he heard that affectionate address, his emotions surged uncontrollably—partly gratitude, partly grievance, and partly relief.
Li Qingqiu stood and walked around the long table to help him up. "There's no shame here," he said gently. "Why talk of disgrace?"
"I didn't make it into the Top 64…" Yu Lin said, voice trembling.
"So what?" Li Qingqiu replied calmly. "There will always be winners and losers. Qingxiao Sect doesn't judge people solely by strength. Your experience and contributions are undeniable. If anyone dares to look down on you, I won't forgive them."
His tone was firm, and Yu Lin's heart burned with emotion. His face flushed red with renewed determination.
Li Qingqiu had kept him behind not to scold him—but to entrust him with responsibility.
He tasked Yu Lin with overseeing the management of Source Iron Blessed Land, especially guarding the spirit stones and Ancient Geng Metal Source Iron deposits. No disciple was to take them for personal use.
Although the thirty chosen disciples were loyal, loyalty alone couldn't guarantee pure intentions.
Some might believe that using the resources for quick advancement would ultimately serve the sect.
Elder Jiang Zhaoxia would be stationed there, but given his temperament, he would likely focus on cultivation rather than constant supervision.
The Source Iron Blessed Land was vast, far too large for any one person to monitor entirely.
Yu Lin understood the weight of this trust and immediately bowed. "Sect Master, I swear on my life—I will not allow a single mistake!"
Li Qingqiu chuckled. "You don't need to sound so dramatic. Go on now—prepare yourself."
Li Qingqiu rubbed Yu Lin's head and said with mock irritation, "Enough with that talk."
Yu Lin broke into a smile, bowed respectfully, and turned to leave.
Not far away, Shen Yue and Jiang Zhaoxia exchanged glances. For some reason, both of them felt oddly uncomfortable—something about what they had just witnessed didn't sit quite right.
The next morning, Jiang Zhaoxia and Shen Yue set off with thirty True Disciples, heading east.
From Qingxiao Mountain to the eastern coastal region was a distance of over seven hundred li. The terrain along the way was filled with towering peaks and steep ridges, difficult for ordinary travelers to cross—but for cultivators, this so-called natural barrier was hardly a challenge.
Several days later, Shen Yue returned alone. He resumed instructing the disciples of the Sword Sect in their cultivation.
Recently, the Sword Sect had recruited fifty more disciples. All of them had participated in the Grand Dao Combat Tournament, which led others to believe that they were chosen based on their performance in the competition. This made the tournament's reputation rise even higher in the eyes of every disciple.
When July arrived, the Top 64 matches began, determining who would make it into the Top 10.
Unlike before, the duels weren't all held in a single day. Although fewer matches took place each day, the excitement and tension among the disciples only grew stronger.
Many had their own favorites—disciples they rooted for, eager to see if those geniuses could fight their way to the end.
One notable exception was Xu Ning, who didn't participate in a single match. She would advance directly to the final competition in August, but she did not occupy any of the ten official rankings.
No one saw this as unfair. On the contrary, most thought it reflected the Sect Master's sense of justice. After all, if Xu Ning had started from the preliminaries, whoever faced her early on would've suffered miserably.
By mid-July, Li Sijin came to find Li Qingqiu.
"Senior Brother," she said, clearly upset, "we have to deal with the refugees down the mountain. Some of them have started stealing herbs from my medicine fields, and when we confront them, they act like it's their right!"
Land on Qingxiao Mountain was becoming scarce. The Cultivation Hall had already expanded its herb farms and gardens down the mountain and around Ziyang Peak to keep up with demand.
Li Qingqiu thought for a moment. "Go to Training Hall and find Xue Jin. He's made it into the Top 10—have him lead a group to handle the matter."
As he spoke, he handed her his Sect Master Command Token.
The token was silver-white, engraved with the image of the Tianhong Sword. It had been Zhang Yu's idea, forged by the Heavenly Works Hall, to ensure Li Qingqiu no longer relied solely on verbal orders—since that could lead to dangerous misunderstandings.
Li Sijin took the token and leapt over the courtyard wall in a flash, flying straight down the mountain. Her anger was evident from her haste.
Li Qingqiu shook his head with a faint smile and sat back down to continue writing a new spell manual on the long desk.
Lately, whenever he had spare time from training, he had been studying ghost-type spells, trying to develop a ghost-commanding technique that wasn't as sinister as the Soul-Binding Curse.
Now that the Qingxiao Sect had disciples walking the ghostly Dao, he had to pave the way further—giving them hope and direction.
If a disciple's Cultivation Aptitude for spiritual energy was too low, perhaps they could still advance through the ghostly path instead.
And if someone could develop a method where a ghost servant's aptitude became one with their own—or even shared cultivation with them—wouldn't that open up entirely new possibilities for the path to immortality?
...
At the western foot of Ziyang Peak, Li Sijin arrived with Xue Jin and over a dozen disciples from Training Hall, walking into a dense forest.
Inside, hundreds of refugees were scattered across the woods. Some lay sprawled on the ground, others sat propped against tree trunks. The air was heavy with stench.
At that moment, three disciples from the Cultivation Hall were quarreling with a few elderly men.
"Someone's coming!"
A disheveled woman pointed toward Li Sijin and the others, her shrill voice cutting through the noise. Heads turned; soon, every refugee was staring at them.
Xue Jin frowned as he noticed the filth and decay throughout the area.
The disciples behind him—many on their first real assignment outside the sect—looked equally disturbed, their brows furrowed.
"If we don't drive them out now, more refugees will keep coming," Li Sijin said, stopping beside him. Her tone was weary and filled with regret.
She silently blamed herself.
When she'd first seen a few starving refugees near the medicine fields, she had pitied them—offering food and drink out of kindness. She hadn't expected that small act to attract hundreds more.
Xue Jin nodded slightly, stepping forward. "Who's in charge here? Step forward so we can talk."
In charge?
Li Sijin was taken aback. She hadn't thought this ragged crowd would even have a leader.
But just as she was about to dismiss the idea, an old, hunched man hobbled out of the crowd, leaning on a wooden staff. The sight of him made her blink in disbelief—it almost seemed absurd.
As the old man approached, several strong men stood up and surrounded him protectively.
He stopped before Xue Jin, smiling pleasantly. "Young man, don't blame us. We're just hungry and desperate. The world's in chaos—there's nowhere left for us to go. If not for your Sect Master killing the emperor, how would the realm have fallen into such disorder? We wouldn't be homeless if not for him."
Li Sijin's temper flared instantly. "If my Senior Brother hadn't acted, that emperor would've continued kidnapping the people's children to make his so-called elixirs of immortality! What if it had been your family he came for?"
A burly man snorted. "So what? There are countless people in this world. We lived far from Zhenyang City—he would never have reached us. But now, thanks to your Qingxiao Sect, the whole realm's in chaos! It's your fault we suffer!"
His words ignited a wave of angry voices. Other refugees joined in, shouting and cursing Li Qingqiu's name. Li Sijin and her disciples turned red with fury.
Xue Jin's expression remained calm. He looked at the old man and asked, "Anything else you'd like to say?"
The hunched elder raised a hand, and the crowd immediately quieted. He fixed his cloudy eyes on Xue Jin and said coldly, "Tell your Sect Master to come meet me. I'll speak with him directly. I want to see if this Li Qingqiu truly deserves to be called a hero."
Clang!
A flash of sword light cut through the air.
The sound of steel leaving its sheath echoed sharply in the forest, freezing everyone in place.
The next instant, the old man's head rolled from his shoulders, hitting the dirt with a dull thud. A fountain of blood erupted from his neck like a spring.
Xue Jin stood still, vital energy forming a shield around him to block the blood spray. His voice was cold and steady. "I'll count to ten. After ten, I start killing. I'll keep killing until my sword stops."