No one knew who shouted it, but the cry rang out:
“Help! Someone save them!”
Only then did many disciples come to their senses and rush toward the disciples lying on the ground.
Disciples at the Golden Core and Foundation Establishment stages had no chance of surviving a late-stage Deity Transformation cultivator charging through them with a Void-Tearing-stage magic treasure. The treasure’s power alone was enough to extinguish every spark of life in them. Unless they had reached the Nascent Soul stage, once their physical bodies died, their weak souls would lose their anchor and quickly disperse, leaving them not even qualified to become ghost cultivators. Only a few Nascent Soul disciples had retreated quickly enough to suffer only the sweeping shockwaves; they were still clinging to life.
Bao Gu crossed the distance in a few strides, giving each of them a Resurrection Pill and several swallows of Supreme Monkey Wine.
Discipline Hall disciples stepped forward and bound Jing Wenyuan with an Immortal-Binding Rope.
Bao Gu’s words left Jing Wenyuan stunned for quite some time. When he heard the roar, he turned to look around at the corpses covering the ground and shuddered. Only then did he realize what his reckless, impulsive actions had done.
He murmured:
“Did I kill people?”
He jolted again. Then he suddenly realized that killing fellow disciples was a grave offense punishable by death. Looking down at the Immortal-Binding Rope around him, he paid no heed to his severe injuries. With blood welling up in his mouth, he violently jerked his bound body and flung himself down at Zi Tianjun’s feet, sobbing with tears and snot streaming down his face.
“Master! Master, save me! I was foolish. I lost my mind! Save me, Master! I don’t want to die…”
As he spoke, frothy blood mixed with bits of his organs kept spilling from his mouth and running over the tops of Zi Tianjun’s shoes. A cultivator at the Deity Transformation stage was already a formidable figure in the wider cultivation world, and to mortals, an age of nearly two hundred years was two or three lifetimes. Yet at that moment, Jing Wenyuan was crying like a frightened child who had done something wrong.
Zi Tianjun looked at the corpses scattered across Xuantian Sect’s square, then lowered his eyes to Jing Wenyuan, who was sobbing uncontrollably. Having lived for over a thousand years and survived two calamities that had nearly destroyed his sect, Zi Tianjun could not stop tears from streaming down his face.
He said:
“Back in the early days, Xuantian Sect was poor. The disciples under me did not even have a few low-grade spirit stones. When they ventured into the cultivation world, they could not afford even an inn. Every breakthrough had to be paid for with what they earned outside with their own hands. The only cultivation resources Xuantian Sect could provide were a few incomplete cultivation manuals.
“I always felt indebted to my disciples. I thought it was because I, their sect master, was useless and incapable that they had to suffer. Later, Bao Gu obtained the inheritance Xuantian Sect had lost for tens of thousands of years. She risked her life countless times and gradually led Xuantian Sect back to prosperity.
“As cultivation resources became more plentiful, I thought my disciples would never have to suffer again. They would not need to go out and risk their lives over a little cultivation resource. We would no longer have to take in a hundred disciples only to see not even one reach the Nascent Soul stage. I wanted to see you all safely remain within the sect, possessing sufficient cultivation resources and cultivating peacefully as you pursued breakthroughs. I thought that at last I could give my disciples good lives, let them grow properly, and no longer watch fine cultivation talents wither and die halfway through their journey because they were fighting over resources!”
His whole body trembling, he cried:
“But I never expected that I would raise and protect you too well, yet fail to teach you properly…”
He bent over Jing Wenyuan, who was sobbing uncontrollably, and asked through his tears:
“Even crows know to feed their parents, and even tigers do not eat their cubs. Look at your master. Then look at who is lying there. Your direct disciple! It was Ji’er! He entered the sect and became your disciple when he was only three! You did not even look before cutting him down with a single sword!”
The handsome and distinguished Zi Tianjun seemed to age in an instant, his grief impossible to contain. He had raised these disciples like precious treasures. How had they grown into this?
Nearby, every Xuantian Sect disciple stood in silence, their hearts heavy. Seeing their sect master like this, many disciples who were close to Zi Tianjun wiped away tears.
Jing Wenyuan cried out:
“Master, Master, I didn’t kill anyone! I panicked when I heard I was going to be confined. I never meant to kill anyone… Master, don’t kill me! I don’t want to die…”
He cried until he collapsed on the ground, and his wounds grew even worse.
Hua Sheng alighted beside Zi Tianjun and helped him straighten up, for grief had left him unable to stand straight.
“Grandmaster. Leave him to the Discipline Hall.”
Supporting Zi Tianjun, she led him toward Xuantian Hall.
Yu Mi’s eyes were red as well. She had always harbored a faint dissatisfaction with Grandmaster for indulging his disciples. But those had seemed like minor matters, and out of consideration for their relationship, she had found it difficult to say anything, so she ignored them. She had never expected them to produce such a terrible result.
She had never considered Jing Wenyuan particularly evil. Someone who was not very bright could not usually commit any great evil; she had merely thought Grandmaster had spoiled him a little. But she had never imagined that Jing Wenyuan could kill fellow disciples without blinking, then, after killing so many of them, cry like an ignorant child and beg Grandmaster to save him. He was the master of an entire peak! How could he be so ignorant, so childish, so utterly lacking in judgment, with no awareness that he had to bear the consequences of his actions? Did he really think that no matter how serious a mistake he made, he could simply beg his master to save him?
Bao Gu looked around at the young faces of the Xuantian Sect disciples. Then she looked at Jing Wenyuan, who had collapsed on the ground, curled up and vomiting blood, unable to speak as the spiritual power within him steadily dispersed. A chill ran through her entire body.
In the Xuantian Sect of today, once a disciple reached the Nascent Soul stage and passed the assessment proving that their combat strength met the required standard, they could descend the mountain. Those who did not want to leave could remain in the sect and continue cultivating. Anyone able to secure an official position was given one; those without a position became ordinary mountain-guard disciples. In their spare time, they practiced formations with their fellow disciples, and if the sect came under threat, they could go into battle. Otherwise, they cultivated on their own, receiving the cultivation resources distributed by the sect according to the standards of the cultivation world. Those with positions also received stipends, and even the basic benefits were far better than those of the Kan Gang.
Many people entered the sect and never descended the mountain again. They buried themselves in cultivation and interacted only with fellow disciples who were just as immersed in it, keeping their eyes fixed on the meager allotment of resources distributed by the sect. They were like nestlings crying to be fed. Once they reached the Deity Transformation stage, became the head of a sect, and grew into full-sized birds, they felt that waiting to be fed was too passive and the portions too small, so they began harboring more ambitious thoughts. In an environment like this, could Jing Wenyuan really be the only one? He was merely the sect master’s favored direct disciple, which made his case more conspicuous.
They had lofty ambitions but little ability. If Xuantian Sect’s future were placed in their hands, they would squander it within a few years.
Bao Gu had always been planning her ascension to the upper realm, but now she had begun to worry. After she left, would the Dao lineage that the Xuantian Patriarch had left in this realm be cut off? Could it continue to be passed down?
Feng Menglong had each peak carry away its dead disciples. He then ordered the disciples in charge of rites to wash the blood from the ground before having the interrupted tournament resume.
Yu Mi walked over to Bao Gu and called out:
“Bao Gu.”
Seeing the worry in Bao Gu’s eyes, she said:
“Every sect and faction has all kinds of people—good and bad, mature and steady, childish and troublesome. As long as the person at the helm is sound and can keep hold of the bigger picture, the less desirable ones only need to be dealt with promptly when trouble arises.”
She ruffled Bao Gu’s hair.
“You’re the strong-willed one. Your temper is much more explosive than mine.”
Bao Gu did not know what to say. She only sighed softly, took Yu Mi’s hand, and turned back toward the viewing platform.
The life force in Jing Wenyuan’s curled-up body grew weaker and weaker.
He could have survived those injuries if he had been treated in time.
But so many fellow disciples had died by his hand. He had even been willing to turn his sword without hesitation on his own master and his own direct disciple. Who would use a Resurrection Pill, precious beyond measure, to save him? Even a senior brother who had studied alongside him might have found his condition pitiful, but the thought that saving Jing would only end in execution, combined with the memory of their attempt to murder their master, was enough to make him abandon the idea of treating Jing. Everyone watched as his life force weakened until it finally vanished.
The Discipline Hall sent people to examine the body and confirmed that he was truly dead. Even his primordial spirit, badly wounded by several palm strikes from Zi Tianjun, had already dissipated when his injuries flared up earlier. Only after his death was announced did a fellow senior disciple send people to collect his remains.
Bao Gu sat on the viewing platform, but she had no heart for the tournament and continued thinking about what had happened. She could not help worrying about Zi Tianjun, so she left her seat and went to Xuantian Hall. In the rear hall, she found Zi Tianjun sitting in the courtyard while Hua Sheng tried to comfort him.
When Hua Sheng saw Bao Gu arrive, she rose.
“Junior Sister Bao Gu is here.”
Bao Gu walked over to Zi Tianjun. After paying her respects, she apologized:
“Grandmaster, I spoke disrespectfully to you today. I beg you to punish me.”
Then she obediently knelt, lowering her head as she asked forgiveness.
Zi Tianjun rose to help her up.
“Get up.”
He pulled Bao Gu to her feet and said:
“It was Grandmaster who failed to teach his disciples properly and failed to judge people clearly. Grandmaster’s disciples have often clashed with Yu Jianming and Yu Mi. I originally thought they were harmless little squabbles—after all, even teeth and tongue sometimes bite one another, and a little friction between fellow disciples is unavoidable. Who could have expected it to lead to such a disaster? You have no interest in the sect master’s seat, and Yu Mi would use the Young Sect Master’s position only to support the sect. Both of you have been laboring for the continuation of Xuantian Sect, while quite a few of the disciples under me have probably begun harboring thoughts they should never have had.”
As he spoke, he noticed that Bao Gu and Hua Sheng were still standing.
“Sit.”
He turned and sat down on a jade bench.
Bao Gu sat down beside him. Only then did Hua Sheng take her seat as well.
Zi Tianjun asked:
“Has Grandmaster grown old and muddle-headed? Or, after holding power for so long and being flattered and fawned over by the disciples beneath me, have I lost my ability to perceive and judge clearly?”
Hua Sheng did not dare answer. She lowered her head and stared at the tips of her shoes, not making a sound.
Bao Gu thought for a moment, then said:
“Only mortals grow old and muddle-headed. Grandmaster is a cultivator who can live forever. You will not grow old, and you will not become confused. You are simply shaken by what happened.”
Hua Sheng was speechless. Was that how Bao Gu comforted people?
Zi Tianjun let out another heavy sigh.
Bao Gu thought for a moment, then said:
“Immortal cultivation pursues power and the transformation of one’s very being, but in truth, what it cultivates is the heart. We cultivate immortality and strive so desperately—what are we striving for? Grandmaster wants his disciples to live good lives. Senior Sister wants enough strength that no one can bully her and that she can protect herself. I want to repay my debt of gratitude and spend a quiet life free from worldly strife with Senior Sister, staying together for the rest of our lives. Watching the sun rise in the morning and the stars at night, with a cup of clear tea and a jug of rough wine—that would be enough.
“We move forward step by step for the sake of what we hold to, and all sorts of unexpected changes are inevitable. For example, Grandmaster’s disciples came to live comfortable lives, but because those lives were too comfortable and they lacked experience, their minds became fragile. Their childish conduct and schemes led them astray through a single foolish thought, cutting off their own road to survival. I, because I wanted to repay a debt, protect the people and things I had chosen to protect, and live the life I wanted, have bloodied my hands and amassed vast wealth from the cultivation world.
“We cannot be perfect. As long as we live in this world without forgetting our true hearts or our original intentions, and can face our own consciences without shame, that is enough.”
Zi Tianjun let out another deep sigh. He raised his head and looked at Bao Gu.
“You’ve grown into an adult.”
Bao Gu smiled faintly.
“I’m over five hundred years old, nearly six hundred, I suppose. To be honest, I’ve forgotten my exact age. Out in the starry sky, I often lose track of the years.”
Hearing this, and then looking into Bao Gu’s eyes, Zi Tianjun felt a pang of sorrow. His own Shu’er was nearly a thousand years old and still seemed like a little girl who had never grown up. Bao Gu’s state of mind, by contrast, was already so desolate that she seemed to have endured the full weight of life’s vicissitudes.
