80 - A Sect Leader’s Ascension

Returning to Heihe Peak, everyone was too exhausted to carry on and chose to retreat for recovery behind closed doors. The keeper, Yu Jing, didn't concern himself with anything else. After ensuring everyone had settled down, he respectfully placed the bodies of Gu Ji and Huang He in the ancestral shrine where previous sect leaders' tablets were housed, before swiftly heading to Heihe Town to summon Zhan Yuan back. "As for Qin Ji's preparations, the coffins are ready-made; the land behind the mountain shrine is an excellent spot for a grave — good in both feng shui and environment. How should we arrange this funeral?" Upon receiving the news, Zhan Yuan first went to visit Qi Xiu and Bai Muhan. Despite this, he immediately got busy, selecting coffins and choosing a grave site, tirelessly ensuring each detail was prepared. Only once he felt all was ready did he seek Qi Xiu for guidance, his tear-streaked face still left unwiped. "You decide, just don't let them be wronged..." Supported by Zhan Yuan, Qi Xiu struggled to sit up. "I should go and see them again..." "Sect leader brother, please rest. Leave everything to me, even if I might not excel at much else, I can at least handle this. Trust me, you should rest." Hearing Zhan Yuan's self-deprecating words, Qi Xiu's heart tightened. He wanted to cry, but found that he had no tears left. A profound weariness seeped into his soul. "Don't say that. Fate is unpredictable, each has their own path. Hearing you talk like this makes me even sadder..." "Alright, I won't mention it again..." Zhan Yuan agreed, helping Qi Xiu to the ancestral hall. Outside the door, they could hear Yu Jing’s quiet sobs. Inside, he was tending to the eternal lantern. Upon Qi Xiu’s entry, he swiftly wiped away his tears with his sleeve and presented several personal belongings of the deceased: the storage satchel Zhan Yuan had once gifted Huang He, some low-grade magical instruments, talismans, and common items. There was also a volume taken from Gu Ji’s belongings, a book Qi Xiu hadn’t seen before. "‘Monkey Spirit Technique’..." As Qi Xiu opened the book, the front page was inscribed with ‘Composed by Chu Qin's Gu Ji on a certain date at Heihe Peak.’ "After the last martial arts tournament, a disciple from the Beast Master Sect found his movement technique intriguing and asked him for guidance. Inspired, he attempted to create a unique martial art of his own. Who would have thought he'd leave his life unfinished..." Yu Jing, who had spent considerable time with Gu Ji, recounted the story in full. Qi Xiu caressed the book, feeling as though Gu Ji still lived through its pages. Examining the writing closely, it bore Gu Ji’s distinctive hand — lively yet slightly immature in its craftsmanship, with a scattered structure easily recognizable. The book was only half completed and the latter portions became increasingly cursory. "Look at him, still like a monkey, never finishes what he starts." Qi Xiu shook his head, trying to force a resigned smile, only to remember Gu Ji was gone, rendering the effort more pitiful than tears. He changed the subject to ease his heart. "What about the golden monkey?" "Bai Muhan mentioned that when they were preparing Gu Ji's body, they didn’t see any trace of the monkey," Zhan Yuan replied. "It was always a wild beast in the end." Qi Xiu sighed. “Bai Muhan suffered a lot coming with us this time, but she was excellent. Without her, we might not have made it back alive. You should treat her well in the future..." Zhan Yuan naturally agreed. After pondering briefly, he asked, "For this funeral, do you think we should invite people from the Wang, Chu, and Zhao families?" "No, just us. We’ll see them off by ourselves, no need for outsiders." Qi Xiu’s essence was deeply depleted; little could nourish it. Speaking for a while left him exceedingly tired, so he slowly sat beside the bodies of Gu and Huang, adjusting the cloth covering them, adding, "For my own affairs in the future, also don't invite outsiders. With you all seeing me off, I would be happy enough." Zhan Yuan and Yu Jing felt their sadness deepen at these words and turned away to hide the tears glistening in their eyes. Having placed the two in their coffins for a while in the ancestral hall, they selected an auspicious day for the burial. Everyone from the sect dressed in white for the somber and simple ceremony at the grave site chosen by Zhan Yuan, only attended by an outsider, Kan Lin. “Should we send someone to Zhao’s side? After all, they…” Zhang Shishi gazed at the two fresh graves and quietly pondered aloud. His arm had just healed but was still too weak to exert force, hanging softly by his side. Two of his concubines, clad in mourning white, stood silently behind him, heads bowed. Just thinking of the dozens of corpses arrayed in Zhao Liangde's grand hall sent a shiver through Qi Xiu. His own grief seemed trivial in comparison to such a tragedy. “Zhan Yuan, you should go — prepare generous funeral gifts. They lost dozens there…” Zhan Yuan seemed slightly unwilling but agreed, "Yes, besides, our Qin Ji has long gone with his wife to her family’s funeral, I might cross paths with him.” “What!” Qi Xiu barely managed to contain his anger, launching into a bout of coughing that took a while to subside. “Why did you say that!” Zhang Shishi reprimanded Zhan Yuan, shooting him a fierce glare. “Then don't go!” Qi Xiu shouted, bending with the effort of catching his breath. "The little bastard, he’s all too eager to run off to others' funerals but makes excuses for ours, blaming it on the migratory paths of geese!" “Cough…” Kan Lin cleared his throat, stepping up to help Qi Xiu. “Master Qi, your health is in no state for unnecessary anger. Zhao’s side probably sent flying beasts to fetch them. It would be prudent to send someone; Zhao Liangde did promise you assistance. Now isn’t the time to fall out and leave yourself vulnerable.” “But Qin Ji shouldn’t have gone! People are still grieving here!” Kan Lin's interference was substantial; even Qi Xiu couldn’t persist in his outrage. Recalling an overheard conversation from years before, he stewed silently and turned to bark at Qin Weiyu, “You, with the surname Qin, go!” “Yes.” Qin Weiyu replied blankly. Seeing his demeanor, Qi Xiu’s anger immediately deflated, regretting his misplaced irritation. Unsure how to proceed, it was Kan Lin who offered to accompany Qin Weiyu, thus diffusing the tension. ... Back in his courtyard, Zhan Yuan was followed inside by Bai Muhan, who closed the door behind them and chided, “What was with you today? You knew those words would upset the sect master.” “I’m just furious. Qin Ji, the traitor, curries favor with Zhao’s family and keeps his guard up around our sect master, as if afraid a title would be snatched from him. Our sect master doesn’t even have those intentions. Petty, small-minded! You don’t know, but before, in the old Chu Qin Sect, not many from Qin’s family were decent. Now that little guy, I thought he was better, treated him with care — yet they’re the same.” Zhan Yuan kicked around the chairs in his home, venting his accumulated anger through relentless muttering and grumbling. Bai Muhan, perceptive as always, thought of the tensions between Qin Ji and the former members of the Chu Qin Sect. She figured that, with the Bai family’s settlers soon arriving, there might be opportunities to exploit… Though these thoughts she kept to herself, knowing Zhan Yuan’s temper would only be further fueled. Instead, she softly consoled him until his anger lessened. “You've been through a lot… How’s your injury?” Wounded in her abdomen, Bai Muhan warmed to Zhan Yuan’s gentle concerns, feeling a sweetness blossom in her heart. Having faced life and death, she’d grown indifferent to conventional restraints. Deciding quickly, she leant closer, placed his hand on her wound, and softly said, "Feel for yourself, I'm much better." Their eyes met, a tender atmosphere enveloping the room. Unconsciously, they leaned closer until they became one, embracing as if never to part again… ... “Why do you think the sect master, at thirty-eight, still hasn’t married?” In the quiet after their intimate night, Bai Muhan asked, toying with Zhan Yuan’s hair as they whispered to each other. “Since the Sect Master got the Linglong Pagoda, his cultivation speed nearly matches He Yu's, even with our sparse spirit root resources. He probably doesn’t want distractions from these matters. It seems he’s aiming at forming a foundation.” Zhan Yuan was unaware of Qi Xiu’s Seven Aperture Heart technique, which absorbed earth energy directly within a spirit gathering array, thereby bypassing the need for the beastly aura of the red-footed macaque. “He’s already thirty-eight, only at the fifth level of Qi Refining, with many obstacles still ahead…” Bai Muhan smirked, skeptical about Qi Xiu's smooth progression. She then giggled and shared some amusing tales of Qi Xiu and Zhang Shishi, likening the pair to bumbling strategists in a nameless valley. Zhan Yuan found her stories delightfully entertaining, laughing heartily.