Chương 348: The Paranoid Master

The journey back to Azure Peak Sect passed without incident. We traveled at a steady pace, conserving energy rather than pushing for speed. By mid-afternoon on the second day of travel, the familiar silhouette of Azure Peak came into view: the central mountain with its crown of spiritual clouds, surrounded by the smaller auxiliary peaks that housed various sect facilities. The sight still inspired awe, even after months of calling this place home.

"Home sweet home," Wei Lin remarked as we approached the gates marking the sect's main entrance.

"Though I must admit, our little adventure made for a nice change of scenery."

"You call nearly dying a 'nice change of scenery'?" Lin Mei asked incredulously. Wei Lin shrugged.

"It adds spice to the cultivation journey." The gate guards recognized us immediately, offering respectful nods as we passed through the barrier formations. News of our breakthrough hadn't reached the outer sect yet, and I wondered how long it would take for word to spread. Such significant jumps in cultivation rarely went unnoticed for long.

The sect was buzzing with pre-tournament activity: disciples hurrying between buildings, outer elders overseeing last-minute training, and servants preparing accommodations for the influx of visitors expected to witness the competitions. After passing through the main courtyard, we reached the junction where our paths would diverge: Lin Mei to the herb gardens she supervised, Wei Lin to his quarters, and me to visit Elder Chen Yong.

The elder and I hadn't scheduled any formation lessons, but it seemed courteous to formally request a break until after the tournament. And, if I was being honest with myself, I wanted to check whether the drunk spiritual projection I'd terrified in the Nexus had indeed been my master.

"I suppose this is where we part ways until the tournament," I said. Lin Mei gave me a stern look.

"Don't even think about any last-minute cultivation attempts. Your cultivation needs time to stabilize after such a rapid breakthrough." I raised my hands in mock surrender.

"I've done enough cultivation for the whole year. Right now, all I want is rest and eat."

"I'll see you both at the tournament grounds in two days," Wei Lin said, already walking backward toward his destination.

"Try not to advance another cultivation stage before then, Ke Yin. It would make the rest of us look bad." With a final wave, we separated, each heading to our respective destinations. The path to Elder Chen Yong's cottage wound through groves of ancient pines, their branches swaying gently in the mountain breeze. Unlike my previous visit, no smoke rose from the chimney today, though lights glowed softly behind the windows.

I approached the simple wooden door and knocked three times, the solid sound echoing in the quiet afternoon. Silence. I frowned and knocked again, louder this time. After another moment of silence, I heard shuffling footsteps and a muffled voice.

"Who's there? State your business." The elder's voice sounded strained, lacking its usual calm authority. Something was definitely wrong.

"Master, it's Ke Yin," I called back.

"I've returned from my trip and wished to speak with you briefly." More shuffling, and a wave of spiritual energy surged through the gap in the door, washing over me like invisible water, reading the unique signature of my cultivation base. I remained still, allowing the examination. Every cultivator's energy carried distinct patterns, extremely difficult to perfectly replicate.

The Genesis Seed pulsed once in my inner world, responding instinctively to the foreign spiritual probe, but I quickly suppressed its defensive reaction. The last thing I needed was my inner world revealing anything unusual. The spiritual sense retreated, apparently satisfied, followed by the sound of multiple locks being disengaged. The door creaked open a few inches, and a single bloodshot eye peered out at me.

"Ke Yin?" The eye examined me carefully before the door opened wider, revealing Elder Chen Yong in a state I'd never witnessed before. Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The normally composed elder looked disheveled. His hair hung loose around his face rather than in its usual neat arrangement.

His robes were wrinkled as if he'd slept in them, and the cottage behind him was in disarray: scrolls scattered across tables, empty wine jugs littering the floor, and formation materials piled haphazardly against walls.

"Master, are you unwell?" I asked, genuinely concerned. He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, checking the surroundings before closing the door and engaging no fewer than three separate locking mechanisms with a flick of his wrist.

"One can never be too careful," he muttered, more to himself than to me. He shuffled to a cluttered table and collapsed into a chair, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite. A half-empty wine jug sat between us, its contents giving off the pungent aroma of high-quality spirit wine, the type cultivators used to celebrate major breakthroughs or special occasions. Elder Chen Yong poured himself a generous cup and drained it in one swallow.

"Come, sit. Share a drink with your soon-to-be-deceased master." I froze mid-step.

"Deceased? Elder, what are you talking about?" He waved a hand dismissively, splashing a bit of wine onto the floor.

"Nothing to concern yourself with immediately. Just the inevitable result of catching a Civilization Realm blood cultivator's attention." My eyes widened slightly. So, it had been him in the Nexus after all. I carefully made my way to sit across from him, navigating around several open scrolls and empty vessels. Up close, his condition was even more concerning.

Dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept properly in days, which was unusual for Life Realm cultivators, seeing as they could go months, perhaps years without sleep.

"Elder, you look... troubled," I said cautiously. He snorted.

"Troubled? Is that what disciples call it these days when death looms over one's shoulder?" He took another long drink from his gourd.

"Wait, your aura has... expanded." His bloodshot eyes suddenly widened.

"Ninth stage? You've broken through to the ninth stage of Qi Condensation?" I nodded, momentarily distracted from my concern.

"Yes, just recently." Elder Chen Yong stared at me for a long moment, then burst into laughter that held little humor.

"Ninth stage! And you were asking me about accessing the Celestial Trade Nexus? Why bother with such dangerous methods when your cultivation advances at such a monstrous pace?" I smiled noncommittally, careful not to mention that it was precisely resources from the Nexus that had facilitated my breakthrough.

"The Nexus isn't even all that impressive," the elder continued, his words tumbling out faster now.

"Just a marketplace with inflated prices where Life Realm cultivators like myself get bullied by higher realm monsters."

"I'm sure the Nexus has its dangers," I agreed carefully, "but I doubt any cultivator would track you from there. The Nexus strictly prohibits such actions." Elder Chen Yong leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"You don't understand. This wasn't just any cultivator. It was a blood cultivator at the Civilization Realm. Do you know how rare and dangerous such individuals are? Most blood cultivators are hunted down by Heaven's Mandate long before reaching such heights." The elder set down his wine gourd with deliberate care.

"I had plans for you, you know," he said, his tone shifting to something more somber.

"After the tournament, I intended to formally take you as my personal disciple. Your talent for formations is exceptional, and with proper guidance, you could revolutionize the field within a century."

"That... would be a great honor," I replied, genuinely touched despite the circumstances.

"But now," he continued with a sigh, "you should seek another master after the tournament concludes. I won't be around much longer."

"Elder, what do you mean? Are you going somewhere?" I asked, wondering if the elder was going to attempt to flee from his imaginary pursuer.

"Yes," he nodded gravely.

"I'll soon be meeting my maker, as the mortals say."

"But surely—""You don't understand," he interrupted, suddenly agitated.

"In the Nexus, through some catastrophic stroke of bad luck, I caught the eye of a Civilization Realm blood cultivator. Not just caught his eye, he stared at me." Elder Chen Yong shuddered at the memory.

"Those eyes, Ke Yin. Like pools of blood with ancient malice swirling in their depths. He looked at me as if I were nothing more than a spiritual beast to be harvested for cultivation materials." I kept my face carefully blank, though internally I wanted to shake my head in denial. That wasn't at all what had happened. I had been genuinely surprised and pleased to see a familiar face in the Nexus, but my disguise had apparently conveyed something far more sinister.

The misunderstanding would have been funny if not for the genuine distress it had caused my master.

"Elder," I said gently, "even if this blood cultivator harbored ill intentions, how would he find you? The Nexus prohibits coordinate tracing. And even if he somehow managed it, the Azure Peak Sect is one of the most powerful in the Eastern Continent. No single cultivator, regardless of realm, would dare to openly attack an elder here." Chen Yong's frantic expression eased slightly as he considered my words.

"Perhaps... though blood cultivators are notoriously persistent when they fixate on a target."

"The sect has multiple Life Realm elders, and the Sect Master himself stands at the peak of the Civilization Realm," I continued, reinforcing the point.

"No cultivation sect would risk such conflict over a single individual." The logic appeared to penetrate his wine-muddled thoughts. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and some of the paranoid tension left his face.

"You're right," he admitted.

"Perhaps I've allowed fear to cloud my judgment." I glanced at a collection of wine vessels arranged on a nearby shelf, many bearing prestigious labels and seals indicating rare vintages. An idea formed.

"Elder, after such a distressing experience, perhaps you deserve something special," I suggested, gesturing toward the collection.

"The Weeping Cloud Vintage of 8322, perhaps? I've heard it described as 'transcendence in liquid form.'" Elder Chen Yong's eyes brightened considerably.

"The Weeping Cloud? I've been saving that for a truly special occasion." He paused, considering.

"But facing mortality certainly qualifies, doesn't it?"

"I'd say so," I agreed, relieved to see his mood improving.