Daoist Competition

Before arriving at Mystic Water Zhen Palace, Huang Fuzhou waited patiently for half an hour. Soon, a Daoist emerged, leading him to a side hall, offering fragrant tea, and bowing respectfully: "Uncle Huang, your timing is unfortunate. With the grand sect competition approaching, my master is currently in seclusion, fully immersed in cultivation, and likely unable to meet with you."

Huang Fuzhou sighed inwardly. This marked the third time he had visited here in the past six months since coming out of seclusion, yet every time he received the same response.

Qi Yuntian, the foremost of the Top Ten Disciples and a Nascent Soul True Master, had ascended to the rank without ever encountering a challenge. Now, his cultivation was even deeper and more unfathomable. Why would such a figure still require seclusion?

Clearly, this was an excuse—he simply didn’t want to meet him.

Yet, Huang Fuzhou could not express his frustration. Though he knew it was futile, he forced himself to remain composed and asked, "When will Brother Qi emerge from seclusion then?"

The Daoist shook his head repeatedly and replied, "Perhaps in half a year, perhaps a full year. As for the exact date, I truly do not know."

Upon hearing this, Huang Fuzhou felt even more hollow. After forty-five years of seclusion, he had initially stepped out full of confidence and determination, hoping to make progress. Yet, he now experienced such a cold reception. However, his will was firm—once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t easily abandon it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have remained in seclusion for over forty years without stepping into the world.

But the position among the Top Ten Disciples was not merely a competition among the sect’s disciples—it was a power struggle behind the scenes involving the Xuanmen Family and master-disciple lineages. If he couldn’t secure Qi Yuntian’s promise, even if he could defeat Xiao Tang, what would it amount to?

He sat there until the sunset painted the skies, then finally rose, bid farewell to that Daoist, and departed from Mystic Water Zhen Palace.

Raising his gaze to the distant, resplendent evening glow, he made up his mind—henceforth, he would come here daily until Brother Qi agreed to meet him.

Just as he was about to mount the clouds and depart, a round-faced Daoist strolled out from the palace. Spotting his departing figure, the Daoist called out loudly, "Is that you, Brother Huang?"

Huang Fuzhou turned back and, seeing who it was, his expression shifted slightly, revealing a faint smile. Bowing, he said, "Ah, it’s Junior Brother Fan! It’s been a long time—how have you been?"

Fan Changqing patted his round belly and replied with a laugh, "Me? My heart is broad, my body fat, and naturally, I’ve been quite well!"

He then asked curiously, "What brings you here, Brother Huang? Are you also here to see Senior Brother Qi?"

Huang Fuzhou sighed, "Indeed, this is already the third time I’ve come to pay respects since coming out of seclusion, yet still, I have not managed to see his esteemed face."

"Senior Brother is also in seclusion. Even I find it difficult to see him..."

Fan Changqing squinted slightly, then suddenly said, "My disciple recently offered me quite a bit of Immortal Tea, reportedly part of Dean Zhou’s secret stash. If I recall correctly, Brother Huang is also a connoisseur in this regard. Why not come and taste it with me?"

Huang Fuzhou was slightly intrigued. Though Fan Changqing was only a Registered Disciple of True Master Meng, he shared the same master as Qi Yuntian. Whenever Senior Brother Qi extended assistance to junior disciples, it was often Fan who acted on his behalf. Now that Fan had extended this invitation, was it orchestrated by Qi Yuntian?

At this thought, he couldn’t suppress a surge of excitement within, though his years of cultivation had honed his composure, making it impossible for anyone to discern his mind. He responded naturally, "Since Junior Brother extends the invitation, how could I possibly decline?"

Fan Changqing laughed heartily, "Excellent! Come, Brother Huang, follow me."

The two headed southward, and in less than a moment, they arrived at Snail Island, a scenic spot filled with warmth.

At first glance, Huang Fuzhou saw pines and cypresses under which fresh green grass thrived. Emerald vines intertwined with purple wisteria, while red and yellow blossoms painted the landscape. Everywhere was adorned like a masterpiece. A young deer frolicked beside a mountain stream, accompanied by the cheerful calls of birds. He couldn’t help but marvel, "Such a captivating and exquisite place—does this belong to your disciple?"

Fan Changqing pointed downward and smiled, "Brother, having been in seclusion for over forty years, it’s no wonder you’re unaware. I recently took in a remarkable new disciple—a young girl who now cultivates on this Biluo Island. You haven’t met her yet."

"I see."

Thɪs chapter is updated by novel•fire.net

Huang Fuzhou nodded, no longer surprised. Fan Changqing was always meticulous and cautious when taking in disciples. He was acquainted with Fan’s previous disciple, a rather dull individual who would never decorate a cultivation abode so vibrantly. This new disciple must’ve joined in recent years to have earned such praise.

Just as they approached the outskirts of the island, a female cultivator with delicate features, cloud-like hair, and clear, spirited eyes stepped onto a bi-colored aura toward them. After offering a graceful Wan Fu salutation to both men, she quickly approached, tugging at Fan Changqing’s sleeve while swaying it back and forth. With an adorably pleading expression, she said, "Master, what brings you to check on your poor disciple today?"

Fan Changqing felt somewhat embarrassed and chided her lightly, "Han Yue! Stop this mischief. Your master has fellow sect members here—how can you act so improperly?"