Chapter 16: The Last Disciple of the Shangqing Sect (Second Update)
Chapter 16: The Last Disciple of the Shangqing Sect (Second Update)
The best way to reduce one's influence is, of course, to move house.
With fewer connections and anonymity, trouble would naturally stay far away.
Once the idea struck, action swiftly followed.
At noon, over lunch, Luo Feng shared his thoughts with Zheng Zha.
Though Zheng Zha agreed with the plan to move, he had a different opinion about where they should settle.
Their personalities and philosophies diverged. To Luo Feng, a homebody at heart, the ideal dwelling should be distant from crowds, yet not completely divorced from the world—basic material necessities still had to be within reach.
Thus, he proposed relocating to the mountain behind Yang Family Village, clearing a path, carving out a small plot for a garden, and pursuing a life of tranquil cultivation.
But Zheng Zha thought otherwise. Having witnessed the powers of the extraordinary, he longed for the wider world, his heart brimming with curiosity and admiration for the mystical abilities he had read about in books.
More importantly, there was a wish he still needed to fulfill. Unlike Luo Feng's carefree and easygoing attitude, Zheng Zha carried a heavy burden on his shoulders.
Neither would give ground, and neither was willing to compromise. The meal grew cold and tasteless, the air thick with tension.
Luo Feng glanced around. Since there was a third person present, he asked, “Yuanyuan, will you come live in seclusion with me, or go with him?”
Annoyed, Zheng Zha retorted, “Yuanyuan, of course, will come with me. She’s just a little girl—are you crazy, thinking she should live like some ascetic monk with you?”
…
At the center of the brewing storm, Yuanyuan stared blankly for a moment, blinking her bright, watery eyes.
After a while, she finally understood what was happening, and her voice trembled as she wailed, “Yuanyuan doesn’t want to be separated…”
“Yuanyuan is scared to be alone…”
Her cries snapped Luo Feng and Zheng Zha out of their argument. Embarrassed, they realized they had been forcing a child to choose sides in their own quarrel.
Grown men as they were, they couldn’t help but feel ashamed.
They hurried to comfort Yuanyuan, and after much fuss, peace finally returned.
Offering Yuanyuan a piece of chicken, Luo Feng sighed, “There’s never lasting resentment between father and son. I forgive you…”
Zheng Zha ladled her a bowl of soup and sneered, “Been a son so long, and now you want to rebel?”
…
It was unclear who started it, but after a few playful jabs, the tension between them eased.
After all, they were both from the same world, had entered the Lord God’s space together, survived life and death in a foreign land, and lived side by side—not brothers by blood, but closer than kin.
In the end, as the observer, Yuanyuan declared: “If you keep feeding me, I’ll burst.”
The momentary conflict was put to rest, but the seeds of disagreement had already been sown.
Time flowed on in its inexorable way, until one day, a Daoist in a blue robe arrived in Yang Family Village, accompanied by two disciples—one fat, one thin.
He stopped Zheng Zha just as he was about to leave, offering a Daoist salute and smiling, “Fellow cultivator, please wait!”
Zheng Zha halted and returned the greeting, puzzled, “Daoist, what is it?”
With a smile, the blue-robed Daoist said, “May I ask, fellow cultivator, are you an extraordinary?”
A faint grin crossed Zheng Zha’s face, but beneath his robe, he readied several talismans, prepared for anything.
“And if I am? And if I’m not?”
The Daoist hurriedly waved his hands, “Please don’t misunderstand—I’m here strictly for business.”
Zheng Zha: ???
An extraordinary who does business? That was new.
The Daoist produced a scarlet talisman from his sleeve, grinning, “You seem a person of great bearing and presence, and I can sense talismanic power about you—you must be a talisman-wielding extraordinary.”
“Here—I have an entry certificate for the last disciple of the Shangqing Sect.”
“Genuine and authentic. Should there be a hint of falsehood, may five thunders strike me dead on the spot!”
“I’m selling it to you cheap today—no ninety-eight, no nine point ninety-eight, just nine silver dollars!”
Zheng Zha: ￣△￣
The talisman did emanate a genuine aura—not some charlatan’s scrawl.
To pay nine silver dollars for an unknown symbol—he was certain he’d struck a bargain.
After a moment’s thought, Zheng Zha handed over nine silver coins.
The Daoist’s face lit up as he accepted the silver—others might make a killing, but he would never lose.
Money in hand, goods exchanged, the Daoist and his disciples swiftly left the village, avoiding suspicion.
On the way, the fat disciple couldn’t help but ask, “Master, that was the entry certificate for the last disciple of the Shangqing Sect, and you sold it for just nine coins—aren’t we losing out?”
The Shangqing Sect was famed for its talismans and was a prestigious orthodox sect; the last disciple was someone of the highest rank in the martial world!
Before the master could reply, the thin disciple laughed, “Calm down, junior brother—when has master ever made a losing deal?”
The blue-robed Daoist laughed heartily, “You, my eldest disciple, please me greatly. This time, we’ve made a killing.”
The thin disciple rolled his eyes. Last time, master even talked about purging the sect.
“Master, did you sell him a fake?”
The fat disciple inquired, “But master, didn’t you say that an extraordinary’s oath is extremely effective?”
“Sigh, how did I end up with such a foolish disciple?” the Daoist lamented, shaking his head. “I’ve always been true to my word—if I say ‘last disciple,’ then it’s the last disciple!”
“But,” he chuckled slyly, “the ‘last disciple’ and the ‘gate disciple’ are different things. Closing the main gate is still closing the gate!”
“Brilliant, master, absolutely brilliant!” both disciples exclaimed in unison.
Stroking his beard, the Daoist smiled, “Learn well. In our line of work, we rely on four words: swindle, hoodwink, cheat, and trick. But the Dao is fifty, and Heaven leaves one out—Heaven is merciful, so we mustn’t go too far.”
“Yes!” they chorused respectfully.
But even the fat disciple now understood the deeper meaning of his master’s words.
Never go too far—this was for their own sake. Should they ever fall into trouble, at least they’d have an excuse.
“By the way, master, weren’t we looking for the extraordinary who destroyed the Black Dragon Gang?”
“Should we follow that one and see?”
The thin disciple suddenly remembered their true purpose and asked curiously.
“No need,” the Daoist scoffed. “At a glance, that one is talisman-trained, brawny but simple-minded.”
“Hardly the sort to wipe out the Black Dragon Gang and lay hidden plans.”
“My purpose here is to seek out a true master—the swindle was just routine business.”
“As your ancestor, the thirteenth patriarch, instructed: our sect must pull off one swindle a day!”
With that, the Daoist led his disciples on a wandering journey through the mountains and villages.
According to his calculations, the true master was still somewhere nearby and hadn’t gone far.
…
Three days later, perched atop a rock, the Daoist gnawed at a chicken leg and muttered in confusion, “Did I miscalculate? Has the master already left and crossed the boundary?”
With a sigh, he led his disciples toward the horizon.
Meanwhile, just a few hundred meters away, a tree vanished mysteriously.
(Extra chapter for Su Mustard)
End of chapter.