Chapter 5: The Master’s Wrath

Tai Xu Sect boasted twelve peaks. Seven served sect purposes, while the other five, too perilous for development, were reserved as rewards for exceptional disciples or elders.

Take Zong Ji’s Longevity Cliff, near the Sea of Illusion, teeming with ferocious beasts and bitterly cold. It sat unused until Zong Ji chose it for secluded cultivation.

The sect’s elders unanimously approved. For a genius like Zong Ji, resources were prioritized. Forget a mountain—if he wanted a star, the protective Tai Xu Sect would pluck one for him.

Besides, Longevity Cliff was remote and unwanted. Giving it away cost nothing.

Early morning at the main peak was a lively scene. Two figures darted about, turning the usually serene peak into chaos. Elders reporting duties stopped to watch the spectacle.

A master and disciple were locked in a “familial slaughter.” Meanwhile, the younger disciple, Yan Si, stood by calmly, hands clasped, unfazed. He had no intention of intervening.

After years, Yan Si knew such master-disciple disputes ended with a thrashing. Plus, there were benefits—Zong Ji’s footwork, like Lingering Wave Steps, Snow-Treading Markless, and Startled Leaf Flight, was honed dodging Ming Xu Zi.

“Ouch!”

“Master, take a break! At your age, you might strain your back.”

Zong Ji, leveraging his fresh Saint-tier strength, moved slickly, evading Ming Xu Zi’s spiritual-energy-fueled pursuit. He leaped onto the main peak’s eaves, hooking a foot to hang upside-down, black hair spilling, grinning provocatively.

“You brat! Think Saint-tier means I can’t handle you?”

Ming Xu Zi’s beard bristled with rage. He slammed his cane down, its form twisting to reveal a longsword within. Without a word, he charged, his movements agile, belying his white beard and sage-like demeanor.

He’s serious?!

Zong Ji’s heart skipped at the sight of the Dragon Spring Sword. Memories of painful sword-back beatings from training days sent a shiver down his spine. He wailed—

“No, no, no! Master, this isn’t an ordinary breakthrough—mercy!”

He whipped out his fan, darting through the air, parrying Ming Xu Zi’s moves with sword qi. Golden-yellow and white sword qi clashed, their shockwaves lifting leaves and snow, shattering them into dust.

Using sword qi reminded Ming Xu Zi of Zong Ji’s days pretending to train diligently while slacking. His face hardened, now testing his disciple’s stability with real force.

Ming Xu Zi’s sword path was balanced, blending finesse with bold strikes. Unlike Zong Ji, who relied on golden-finger sword qi, Ming Xu Zi was a true cultivator, forging his balanced sword qi through years in the snow. Before Zong Ji’s rise, he was Xuanshu’s swordsmanship leader, a celebrated prodigy.

A product of his era’s tears, perhaps.

Zong Ji dared not clash directly. As a ranged fighter, he couldn’t be reckless like against Mu Ye. He steadied his breath, dutifully sparring with his master.

Sword cultivators were unreasonable. No matter how Zong Ji stressed his breakthroughs, Ming Xu Zi ignored him, each strike faster than the last.

After a few exchanges, Ming Xu Zi paused, incredulous. “Brat, you…?”

Seizing the moment, Zong Ji stepped back, then flourished his fan smugly. “Check the Mysterious Rankings, Master.”

Ming Xu Zi, unimpressed by his disciple’s cockiness, sheathed his forty-meter sword, pulled out a jade slip, and probed it with his divine sense.

There it was: “Number One Under Heaven: Zong Ji,” in dazzling gold, impossible to ignore, screaming presence.

Ming Xu Zi had ranked fifth, trailing the older Saints. Like countless cultivators, his dream was to top the Mysterious Rankings. The star barrier, like a dam, had blocked his path, frustrating his pursuit of the great Dao.

Now, his disciple had done what he couldn’t.

Though he often griped about Zong Ji, Ming Xu Zi was immensely proud. His chest swelled with pride, itching to boast via thousand-mile transmission to other sect leaders.

“Not bad, huh? Those dozen jars of Tai Xi White weren’t for nothing.”

Seeing Ming Xu Zi’s reaction, Zong Ji relaxed, flashing over with a grin to stand before him.

“Master, your lifelong wish fulfilled by your disciple—pretty moving, right? No worries, we’re family.”

Opening old wounds.

Ming Xu Zi, about to offer some newly brewed Tai Xi White, laughed and fumed, smacking Zong Ji’s head.

“Ahem, since you’ve broken through…”

Zong Ji caught on. “I’ll compile the breakthrough method for you later.”

The star barrier emerged after the three-race war ten thousand years ago, when Saints were common and Immortals roamed. Since then, such glory vanished.

Breaking the barrier had no trick—it depended on the person.

Zong Ji was the only one in millennia to bypass it. No secret, just destiny. He was the Child of Fate, the world’s center, Carefree’s protagonist.

Writing the novel, Zong Ji lavished his protagonist with golden fingers, including a setting where only his breakthrough would lift the barrier, letting others glimpse beyond Saint-tier.

His “cultivation trick” was pure nonsense to fool his master.

Ming Xu Zi, oblivious, dreamed of jumping from fifth to second, stroking his beard gleefully.

Master and disciple, each with their schemes, shared a smile, the tension melting into warmth.

“Master.”

With matters settled, Yan Si stepped forward, bowing respectfully.

“Not bad, you’ve improved.”

Facing his younger disciple, Ming Xu Zi’s demeanor softened, his wrinkled face beaming.

Everyone knew Tai Xu’s leader had two exceptional disciples, giving him bragging rights over tea with other sect leaders.

Zong Ji, though unable to wield a sword (a fact Ming Xu Zi kept quiet), was mistaken as a sword genius across Xuanshu. Yan Si, young yet leading Hidden Sword Peak, was a rising swordsmanship star.

“Master.”

Zong Ji had come to report his breakthrough and request to leave the sect. After five years cooped up, he felt rusty. Time to roam, play Sea of Illusion police, and maintain world peace.

“Go, go! Don’t linger, eyeing my wine.”

Ming Xu Zi was eager for Zong Ji to leave. He knew his disciple’s restless nature. With his breakthrough and top ranking, Zong Ji could wreak havoc as Tai Xu’s living billboard.

With Zong Ji’s strength, he’d be the one causing trouble, not taking it. Reassured, Ming Xu Zi waved him off, then turned to guide Yan Si’s cultivation.

Zong Ji: …No sword skills, no master’s love. Too real.