The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 199: Master's First Disciple

"Ahh, who is it? Can only she command Phoenix Mountain? What about the other descendants who tamed the Vermilion Bird's evil spirit?"

Mo Ran did not answer him directly but said, "A thousand years ago, the one who tamed the Vermilion Bird's evil spirit was named Song Qiao, with the courtesy name Xing Yi."

Xue Meng's face paled in shock as he blurted out, "The Venerable Bi Huai, Song Xing Yi?!"

"Mm."

"He's the very last Flowing Bone Beauty, the one who could attain the status of a Grandmaster in the history of cultivation!"

Mo Ran's face remained stoic as he replied, "Indeed, and that means the last person capable of unlocking the gates of Phoenix Mountain perished in the Confucian Wind Sect's inferno. It was Song Qiutong."

Xue Meng's mouth gaped open, about to protest, when a sudden commotion erupted in the distance. A group of green-robed cultivators from Jade Lake Manor had gathered around the barrier at the foot of Phoenix Mountain.

"Lord Li!"

"Manor Lord!"

Chu Wanning's expression shifted slightly, his brows furrowing as he strode towards the commotion. Pushing aside the crowd, he saw Li Wuxin being supported by his disciples, his face as pale as paper, spewing blood with a pungent smell that clung to his snowy beard. His lips were tinged blue, his eyes rolled back, and he was already unconscious, muttering in a trembling voice, "First place... It's... First place..."

With Li Wuxin's withdrawal of power, the backlash from the barrier grew more intense for the remaining sect leaders. Huang Xiaoyue, who was temporarily in charge of the Jiangdong Sect, had less magical prowess than the others, and he was now struggling to even turn his head.

Jiang Xi, on the other hand, had a pale complexion but still managed to glance at Li Wuxin and speak, "He's fallen victim to the Phoenix Nightmare."

The Phoenix Mountain barrier carried the curse of the phoenix. Anyone attempting to tear through the rift and ascend the mountain would be easily devoured by this nightmare.

This shared similarities with the illusory world created by Jin Chengchi's Heart-Plucking Willows, except that the Phoenix Nightmare was more difficult to dispel. Those ensnared often never regained consciousness.

Seeing their master in such a state, the disciples of Biotan Hall knelt on the ground, some even wailing in despair, "Master! Wake up, Master!"

In his dream, Li Wuxin alternated between laughter and delirious muttering. Suddenly, he broke free from Zhen Congming's embrace, lying on his back and flailing his limbs while cackling wildly, "First place! It's first place! First place!"

Whispers arose among the disciples from other sects, "What does he mean by first place?"

But Li Wuxin was oblivious to their queries, lost in the bliss of the nightmare. With his mouth agape, revealing bloodied and saliva-coated teeth, he laughed ecstatically. After a while, as if the nightmare shifted, his withered old face froze, and an expression of anger appeared.

"No! You can't do this! You can't do this! We had an agreement to return Biotan Hall's sword technique scrolls to me! How can you go back on your word?!"

For a moment, his face transformed into a sorrowful expression.

This was truly terrifying. Li Wuxin had always been a proud old Taoist, and the head of a manor. He had never shown such a face in public before.

He didn't resemble a sect leader, nor a Taoist priest.

Not even a man.

With a pleading look, his grief twisted amidst the wrinkles on his face as if he were desperately trying to stuff his dignity into those lines. He begged, "Eight billion gold coins are too much. That sword technique scroll originally belonged to Green Pond Manor, it belonged to my great-grandmaster. It was only because the sect was in decline, lacking spare funds, that we had no choice but to sell it to you... Sect Leader, please, just a little less..."

The surrounding crowd exchanged bewildered glances.

Eight billion gold coins?

A sword manual?

Then someone suddenly recalled that the previous head of Green Pond Manor, due to his fiery temperament and straightforwardness, had provoked many sects in the Upper Realm, resulting in a great calamity. No sect was willing to lend a helping hand. After that incident, the entire manor declined, unable to even provide for their disciples for three consecutive years. Somehow, they suddenly became prosperous again, but mysteriously, since that generation, Green Pond Manor's once-famous Water-Cutting Sword Technique lost its luster. Later disciples could never grasp its essence.

Because of this, people in the martial world often ridiculed Li Wuxin, saying that his teachings were inadequate, leading the once-renowned Sword Saint Manor, Green Pond, to fall to the bottom of the Upper Realm.

However, at this moment, everyone realized that the situation might not be as simple as they initially thought. Could it be that the Bi Tan Manor managed to survive their great calamity by selling the Sword Scroll?

The image of an opportunist merchant immediately brought Solitary Moon Night to mind. Many eyes secretly glanced at Jiang Xi.

"It can't be Solitary Moon Night, right?"

"Perhaps it was Patriarch Jiang's ancestor..."

Li Wuxin was still writhing in pain on the ground, rolling around. Zhen Congming couldn't even hold him down. He cried and shouted, then crawled up and knocked his head against the ground with a loud thud, blood and snot dripping down his face.

"Give it back to me. I've been saving for half my life, and I only have five billion gold coins," Li Wuxin wailed. "Just five billion gold coins... I really tried my best to get what you asked for, but I don't have that much money. How could I kill, rob, or do all sorts of evil deeds just to get wealth? Your sect earns millions daily, but Bi Tan Manor truly doesn't have that much money... Please..."

Upon hearing "your sect earns millions daily," those who hadn't paid attention to Jiang Xi before started looking his way. The Xuanyuan Pavilion under Jiang Xi's command was the largest black market in the cultivation world. Who else could it be if not him?

A young disciple from Bi Tan Manor, filled with rage, glared at Jiang Xi with bloodshot eyes. "Patriarch Jiang! So it turns out that the three most crucial volumes of our Bi Tan Manor's Water-Cutoff Sword Scroll are with you, Solitary Moon Night?! You demand eight billion gold coins for them... How could you be so shameless?!"

Before Jiang Xi could reply, someone on his left croaked, "Before the truth is revealed, how dare you falsely accuse Patriarch Jiang?"

It was Huang Xiaoyue, who was barely able to catch his breath.

The old man's hands trembled as he supported the barrier, yet he still tried to express his loyalty to Jiang Xi. His intentions were as clear as day.

Furious, a disciple from Jade Pool Manor rushed forward to scold Huang Xiaoyue but was held back by his fellow disciples, who advised, "Zhen Fu, don't provoke them."

Upon hearing this name, Mo Ran was taken aback.

In the past, he might have found the name Zhen Fu as ridiculous as Zhen Mingzhi, causing him to burst into laughter. But at this moment, as he watched the old man kneeling and bowing in the mud, he suddenly felt an overwhelming bitterness.

He couldn't bring himself to laugh at all.

"Ten billion won't do... then... how about 5.5 billion?" Li Wuxin wept, wiping away tears with his sleeves. "5.5 billion. I'll do business for the Chang family of Yi State and sell some magic weapons and spirit stones. I can gather that amount. 5.5 billion... Sect Leader, please show mercy... just return the Sword Scroll to me."

Bowing with a hunched back, his forehead eventually cracked, blood flowing freely.

"The Water-Cutoff Sword Scroll is the soul of Jade Pool Manor," he cried. "Before my master ascended, his only wish was for me to retrieve the scroll. I've been trying my best all my life... from black hair to white, from begging your father to begging you... I even asked Luo Fenghua for help..."

"Ahh!"

Everyone paled in shock.

Luo Fenghua?!

Li Wuxin sought help from Luo Fenghua?!

Not Solitary Moon Night... it's... it's...

They all turned around, and though no one was moving, a path immediately opened up as almost everyone from different sects were now staring at Nan Gongsi and Ye Wangxi in the corner.

"It's the Confucian Wind Sect!"

Whispers were unnecessary this time. Someone shouted it out loud.

"How shameless!"

"Just as I thought, how could the Confucian Wind Sect's sword techniques suddenly advance so much over the past decades, even resembling the style of a Sword Sage? beasts!"

"They even gave Nan Gongsi third place in the Spirit Mountain Assembly back then! How can stolen sword techniques be considered any skill?"

"Truly disgusting!!"

Nan Gongsi stood rooted to the spot, his expression blank. Of course, he was unaware of the heinous scandals that plagued the Confucian Wind Sect – the sins committed by his father and ancestors, which were meant to weigh on the heads of the seventy-two cities of the sect, now fell solely upon him.

He didn't run or speak; instead, he stood there silently with a grayish complexion.

Ye Wangxi reached out to grasp his hand, but Nan Gongsi withdrew it discreetly, positioning himself in front of Ye Wangxi.

"He actually has the nerve to show up here..."

"With a father like that, what kind of son do you think he could be?"

The residents of Jade Pond Manor were the most indignant, shouting at them, "Scram! Aren't you going to leave?!"

"The Confucian Wind Sect is no longer among the Ten Great Sects! What are you still doing here? scram!"

"Shameless lovers!"

Voices rose around them, filled with passion and anger, cursing and condemning them. Each face bore a vivid expression of hatred.

Suddenly, someone rushed forward, their green robes billowing. It was a disciple from Jade Pond Manor who grabbed hold of Nan Gongsi's collar. Ye Wangxi immediately called out, "Si!"

In the blink of an eye, Nan Gongsi pushed her aside. Then, he was pinned to the ground by a disciple from Biotang Manor, who rained down punches upon his face, chest, and abdomen. Each blow was delivered without the use of spiritual energy, yet they landed with a heavy and vicious impact, as if the attacker had lost all reason.

At that moment, a cold, stern voice suddenly rang out, "Stop."

The disciple's next powerful punch struck Nan Gongsi's handsome face, causing him to cough out a mouthful of blood. His hair was disheveled, and he lay on the muddy ground, battered and defeated.

The enraged disciple attempted to throw another punch, but his arm was seized by someone.

He turned with anger and howled, "Beast! I don't need your—"

No words were spoken.

For standing before him was none other than Chu Wanning, the world's foremost master, renowned across the land.

"Stop."

With eyes as cold as a mountain spring, Chu Wanning gazed down at him. The expression on his face was indescribable, conveying a myriad of emotions yet also an air of emptiness.

He simply held the young man's arm tightly, pursed his lips, and after a while, he said, "Stop fighting."

Nan Gongsi coughed up another mouthful of blood onto the ground. Ye Wangxi rushed to support him, but he waved her off. "Don't worry about me. It's my duty, as the son of the Confucian Wind Sect, to bear the consequences for my father."

The youth, upon hearing this, grew even angrier. He struggled to break free from Chu Wanning's grasp, intent on retaliating with violence.

Chu Wanning's sword-like brows shot up. "Stop fighting!"

"Mind your own business! You're from the Summit of Life and Death; this doesn't concern you!" The young man had lost his composure, shrieking at Chu Wanning, "Why do they get to treat my master like this? Why?! And why do this to Bita Pond Manor?! For how many years has Bita Pond Manor served the Confucian Wind Sect like oxen and horses?! Why... why?!!"

He let out a soul-stirring wail.

Behind him came Li Wuxin's groans, filled with pleading.

Li Wuxin continued to beg in his mind for the nonexistent Nan Gongliu, "Luo Fenghua said he'd trade me the sword manual... But he doesn't know where it is... You promised me... Headmaster... You promised me..."

"I'm already seventy-nine years old, and I don't have many years left. I might not be able to ascend to immortality through corporeal dissolution and meet my master... But the one thing he entrusted to me, I can't fail to accomplish." Each word from Li Wuxin's mouth was like a clot of blood being scraped from his throat; he howled in despair, "I can't fail... Headmaster... Give it back to me... Return the items from Green Pond Manor... To this old man..."

"Please... beg you..."

The disciples of Green Pond Manor trembled, and Chu Wanning's hand also shook slightly.

The young man's eyes were filled with tears, hatred, and confusion.

But he couldn't break free, and in the end, he spat a wad of saliva onto Chu Wanning's cheek, saying, "What grand master, nothing but beasts, all of you."

"Master!"

"Mo Ran, stay where you are and don't approach."

Chu Wanning released the youth's hand, and with newfound freedom, the young man immediately attempted to assault the already battered Nan Gongsi once more. However, a beam of golden light descended, unfolding a begonia barrier that securely shielded both Nan Gongsi and Ye Wangxi within its protective embrace.

Chu Wanning had originally been kneeling on the ground, but he slowly rose to his feet, scanning those indistinct, curious faces one by one.

At one end of the crowd was him, and at the other, Li Wuxin, whose face was stained with blood and tears.

Li Wuxin's aged voice echoed, like winter twigs piercing the sky: "Fifty-five billion won't do...?"

Even in this dream, the old man was still trying to haggle with Nan Gongliu.

How utterly demeaning.

Inferiority knew no bounds.

So much so that his aged face had turned to dust and sand.

"Five hundred and eighty million?"

His voice quivered.

Chu Wanning closed his eyes.

His hand also curled up beneath his wide sleeves, trembling.

Yet, he spoke deliberately, "Nan Gongsi, the son of Rong Yan, Lady Rong, an old acquaintance."

Before the grand Phoenix Mountain, among a thousand people, the only sounds were Li Wuxin's wails and Chu Wanning's cold, stern voice.

On one side, Li Wuxin said, "Fifty-eight million should be enough, right? It's just three sword manuals, after all..."

While on the other side, Chu Wanning said, "When I left the mountains, I carried no silver and did not know how to ask others for it. It was Lady Rong who offered me a meal and allowed me temporary residence in the Confucian Wind Sect."

He paused, and only Li Wuxin's sobs could be heard.

"Madam Rong once asked me to take her son, Nan Gongsi, as my disciple. I was young and thought myself incapable, so I declined. But that year..."

Chu Wanning turned his face slightly and glanced at Nan Gongsi lying on the ground. He finally revealed, slowly and deliberately, the truth that Nan Gongsi had no recollection of.

"Back then, Madam Rong brought her young son before the temple and knelt before me three times, declaring that Nan Gongsi's apprenticeship was complete. If I were to stay in the Confucian Wind Sect for a long time, Nan Gongsi should treat me with the respect due to a master."

Chu Wanning lifted his gaze.

"Nan Gongsi is my disciple."

Upon hearing this, Xue Meng's face turned ashen!

Mo Ran and Shi Mo looked just as grim, but they remained silent, their eyes fixed on Chu Wanning.

"If it's true that a father's debts are repaid by his children, then a teacher is like a parent for life. Since I accepted Nan Gongsi's three kneelings as a gesture of apprenticeship, he can call me 'Master'," Chu Wanning said. "His original master still lives. So, whether it's seeking revenge or meting out punishment... I will not resist here."

"Master!"

"Mistress—!!"

Mo Ran, Xue Meng, and Shi Mo knelt down together. Nan Gongsi, despite his struggle to rise from the ground, still had blood flowing from his mouth as he muttered, "No… I didn’t kneel… I never bowed… I don’t have a master… No master…."

But at that moment, Li Wuxin let out a long howl. He looked up at the sky with hair and beard fluttering like snowflakes, eyes wide open as blood continuously flowed down his face.

He cried out loudly, wailing, sobbing, and stammering.

"Nine hundred and ninety million, isn't that enough? Headmaster Nan Gong… Nine hundred and ninety million… Just consider it pity for this old man, leave me some money to buy a coffin… Would you, please? Please?"

With a posture as if awaiting execution, he screamed in a hoarse voice, veins bulging on his neck.

"Please!!"

Three consecutive pleases—Li Wuxin suddenly spewed out blood again. The blood gushed violently, and silence fell.

Then, with a thud, he collapsed to the ground.

The paramount leader of the weakest sect in the Upper Cultivation Realm. This old man, who had spent his life deliberately currying favor with every sect he could possibly ally with, wandering around like a clown. This man who had spent most of his life achieving nothing, a great joke who couldn't even redeem three sword manuals.

A good-for-nothing, a mediocrity.

He lay there with his eyes wide open, falling into the ashen dust.

Dead.

The wind whistled, and various expressions appeared on the faces of all beings present. No one spoke anymore.

But Mo Ran suddenly recalled that Dragon Mountain held a treasure, one that could revive a sect – even the Jiangdong Sect knew this.

With how close Bi Tan Manor was to the Confucian Wind Sect, they surely understood the implications.

After Nan Gongliu's death, many major and minor sects had been chasing after Nan Gongsi and Ye Wangxi, claiming it was for revenge. Yet, in their hearts, they were all eyeing that mountain of gold and silver.

But not Bi Tan Manor.

They had clumsily attempted to ingratiate themselves with Solitary Moon Night and the Summit of Life and Death, hoping for mutual support and assistance in the future.

As for the wealth of the Confucian Wind Sect, Li Wuxin hadn't even entertained the thought of it.

He was the one who had been bullied and exploited by the Confucian Wind Sect his entire life.

Perhaps it was precisely because he had suffered such mistreatment for so long that this old man understood: wealth could be acquired, but not at the expense of justice.

Mo Ran gazed at Li Wuxin from afar, at his dusty, dirty, almost comically pitiful old face.

Suddenly, he understood why, on that fateful day when chaos erupted in the Confucian Wind Sect, while everyone else was rushing about in panic, trying to save their own lives, this old man had hesitated and not fled.

Despite his lack of remarkable abilities, he had stubbornly stayed behind in the midst of the firestorm.

With a sword he controlled, he saved the lives of dozens of people unrelated to him.

People said that the founder of the Jade Lake Manor had a sword technique called "Severing Water," capable of halting rivers and piercing the heavens, earning him the title of Sword Saint.

Li Wuxin lacked three volumes of the book, so he couldn't learn this dazzling sword art and couldn't become a Sword Saint.

All he could do was use his enlarged controlled sword to carry those he didn't even know, including disciples of the Confucian Wind Sect, out of the sea of flames, one by one, back to the mortal world.

Author's Note: There will be no side story today. Regardless of whether the character who dies is the protagonist, an antagonist, or a supporting role with some semblance of humanity, I'll stick to the usual rule of not posting a side story to disrupt the flow. Thank you for your understanding! ~Muah~