Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 110: Midnight Request for a Reading

Ever since that night in Lian Shui's springs, when Wei Minniang bared her past, Qi Xiu pieced together the Weis' angle clear enough. Marrying her off severed ties to her old husband's clan clean—while planting one of their own right in his bed. No more awkward reminders for Wei Xuan; just a quiet exile for a granddaughter who'd become baggage.

It explained her limbo spot in the family. Aside from that Foundation Establishment aunt, Wei Wan—the widow who kept to herself—relations stayed lukewarm at best. The Kan clan favor last time? Pulled through Wei Wan alone.

Qi Xiu escorted her to the cave abode entrance, then planted himself outside. Waited quiet.

Half a day dragged before she emerged—eyes puffy, red-rimmed from tears.

"Let's go."

He probed gentle. She crumbled again.

"Aunt's old wounds flared bad. Days left, maybe."

Grief threatened to swamp her. "Stay? Keep her company longer?"

She shook head fierce, tears streaming. "Wants to wander while she can—chase breakthroughs, maybe take a final disciple. This trip... likely goodbye forever."

Nothing he could fix. Soft words, steady presence—escorted her away, glancing back every few steps, toward Immortal Grove Hollow.

Trip stretched long; hollow wardless all the while. Zhang Shishi's crew rotated watches relentless. Qi Xiu's return loosened shoulders collective.

Array setup? Zhang Shishi's domain again. But minor vein ties this round—Huang Shao'neng's ghost looming. Qi Xiu hammered it home: in-house only. No outsiders sniffing the roots.

"Got it. Trust me."

Zhang Shishi nodded firm, summoned a page-boy servant—introduced as Kan Da, thickset kin from Kan Lin's old cave. Nickname only, loyal sort.

"Sect Leader Immortal... Wei... Mistress..."

Kan Da dropped deep bows—recognized Qi Xiu, and the woman who'd greased Kan migration wheels. Wei Minniang flushed at "mistress," murmured quick rise.

"Kid, no 'mistress' nonsense. You his disciple? Call him Immortal like the rest."

Zhang Shishi ribbed him light, drilled etiquette, then hustled off to arrays.

Qi Xiu tasked Kan Da: reliable maids, matron—for Wei Minniang's daily needs.

She'd mentioned mountain capital stop only—no hollow layover. But when he suggested resting here? No protest. Followed quiet.

Guiding her to the thatched halls, he clocked the shift: servants all fresh faces. Qin holdovers? Vanished. Val Lin stock now.

Mind ticked—Zhang Shishi's play clear.

Hollow's mortals clustered six big surnames these days. Tiny lots like Li Tan's Li clan? Negligible.

Heavy hitters: Qin Ji and Qin Weiyu's Qins—numbers swollen, eyes on Weiyu. Zhao Liangde's Zhaos. Bai Xiaosheng and Bai Muhan's Bais. Yu Deno's Yus—tight with Zhan Yuan. Newcomer Mos—neutral still. Kan Lin's Kans? Closest to Zhang Shishi and He Yu's circle.

Zhang bulked Kans in gate service, clustered their settlers mountain-door near. Favoritism plain—stack allies subtle.

Qi Xiu sighed inward. Done was done—mere servants. No tangle with core cultivators.

Kan Da hustled sharp: two spry maids, one steady matron. Scrubbed a hall adjoining Qi Xiu's retreat spotless—fresh furnishings, bedding crisp. Invited her in.

"I'll turn in..."

Her gaze lingered soft, slight curtsy.

"Fate's own threads. Aunt might stumble on fortune wandering. Don't drown in sorrow."

More comfort offered. Watched her slip inside.

Qi Xiu retreated to his own hall. Outing bled stones heavy, pleasures full—Wei Minniang ties leaped forward. Cultivation? Neglected. Shook it off, drew the nameless compass. Settled deep—Fortune Steering Art cycles rolling pure.

Cycles blurred endless.

Stirred subtle—woke to midnight hush.

Shadow lingered door silent. Glowstone flicked: Wei Minniang.

When? She'd waited patient. Eyes met his open—cheeks warmed again. Stepped in slow.

Fresh bathed, scent wafting. Ditched his gifted finery—Chu Qin scarlet robe loose now. Hair damp cascade, unbound. Fair skin gleamed glowstone soft; wide robe swallowed curves, bold red muting her usual frost. Cheeks' flush echoed fabric—shy allure peeking through.

"Ahem... Didn't pack my fate books. But memorized. Copied one fresh—see if it sparks anything for your practice."

Cleared throat delicate—his stare lingering mute. Pulled slim volume from pouch, ink still sharp.

"Ah... right."

Snapped back, took it. Wei Clan Three Fates Physiognomy—face-reading manual, thin but dense. Flipped through—fresh angles, Qi Yun vein blind spots. Dove in absorbed.

Incense stick burned quick skim. Surfaced slow—room not empty. Eyes locked hers: dimples faint, watching fond.

Cheeks heated his turn. "Sorry—lost track. Your take on reading fates... fresh twists. Differs wild from Qi Yun lines. Sparks flying."

"Good."

She settled cross-legged close—breaths mingled, bath-damp fragrance laced her quiet scent, teasing senses. Walls down tonight—gaze steady, smile open.

"Back in Artifact Talisman, we chewed fate plenty. You pack skill. Read me? Divine what's coming?"

Chapter 110: Midnight Request for a Reading

Ever since that night in Lian Shui's springs, when Wei Minniang bared her past, Qi Xiu pieced together the Weis' angle clear enough. Marrying her off severed ties to her old husband's clan clean—while planting one of their own right in his bed. No more awkward reminders for Wei Xuan; just a quiet exile for a granddaughter who'd become baggage.

It explained her limbo spot in the family. Aside from that Foundation Establishment aunt, Wei Wan—the widow who kept to herself—relations stayed lukewarm at best. The Kan clan favor last time? Pulled through Wei Wan alone.

Qi Xiu escorted her to the cave abode entrance, then planted himself outside. Waited quiet.

Half a day dragged before she emerged—eyes puffy, red-rimmed from tears.

"Let's go."

He probed gentle. She crumbled again.

"Aunt's old wounds flared bad. Days left, maybe."

Grief threatened to swamp her. "Stay? Keep her company longer?"

She shook head fierce, tears streaming. "Wants to wander while she can—chase breakthroughs, maybe take a final disciple. This trip... likely goodbye forever."

Nothing he could fix. Soft words, steady presence—escorted her away, glancing back every few steps, toward Immortal Grove Hollow.

Trip stretched long; hollow wardless all the while. Zhang Shishi's crew rotated watches relentless. Qi Xiu's return loosened shoulders collective.

Array setup? Zhang Shishi's domain again. But minor vein ties this round—Huang Shao'neng's ghost looming. Qi Xiu hammered it home: in-house only. No outsiders sniffing the roots.

"Got it. Trust me."

Zhang Shishi nodded firm, summoned a page-boy servant—introduced as Kan Da, thickset kin from Kan Lin's old cave. Nickname only, loyal sort.

"Sect Leader Immortal... Wei... Mistress..."

Kan Da dropped deep bows—recognized Qi Xiu, and the woman who'd greased Kan migration wheels. Wei Minniang flushed at "mistress," murmured quick rise.

"Kid, no 'mistress' nonsense. You his disciple? Call him Immortal like the rest."

Zhang Shishi ribbed him light, drilled etiquette, then hustled off to arrays.

Qi Xiu tasked Kan Da: reliable maids, matron—for Wei Minniang's daily needs.

She'd mentioned mountain capital stop only—no hollow layover. But when he suggested resting here? No protest. Followed quiet.

Guiding her to the thatched halls, he clocked the shift: servants all fresh faces. Qin holdovers? Vanished. Kan stock now.

Mind ticked—Zhang Shishi's play clear.

Hollow's mortals clustered six big surnames these days. Tiny lots like Li Tan's Li clan? Negligible.

Heavy hitters: Qin Ji and Qin Weiyu's Qins—numbers swollen, eyes on Weiyu. Zhao Liangde's Zhaos. Bai Xiaosheng and Bai Muhan's Bais. Yu Deno's Yus—tight with Zhan Yuan. Newcomer Mos—neutral still. Kan Lin's Kans? Closest to Zhang Shishi and He Yu's circle.

Zhang bulked Kans in gate service, clustered their settlers mountain-door near. Favoritism plain—stack allies subtle.

Qi Xiu sighed inward. Done was done—mere servants. No tangle with core cultivators.

Kan Da hustled sharp: two spry maids, one steady matron. Scrubbed a hall adjoining Qi Xiu's retreat spotless—fresh furnishings, bedding crisp. Invited her in.

"I'll turn in..."

Her gaze lingered soft, slight curtsy.

"Fate's own threads. Aunt might stumble on fortune wandering. Don't drown in sorrow."

More comfort offered. Watched her slip inside.

Qi Xiu retreated to his own hall. Outing bled stones heavy, pleasures full—Wei Minniang ties leaped forward. Cultivation? Neglected. Shook it off, drew the nameless compass. Settled deep—Fortune Steering Art cycles rolling pure.

Cycles blurred endless.

Stirred subtle—woke to midnight hush.

Shadow lingered door silent. Glowstone flicked: Wei Minniang.

When? She'd waited patient. Eyes met his open—cheeks warmed again. Stepped in slow.

Fresh bathed, scent wafting. Ditched his gifted finery—Chu Qin scarlet robe loose now. Hair damp cascade, unbound. Fair skin gleamed glowstone soft; wide robe swallowed curves, bold red muting her usual frost. Cheeks' flush echoed fabric—shy allure peeking through.

"Ahem... Didn't pack my fate books. But memorized. Copied one fresh—see if it sparks anything for your practice."

Cleared throat delicate—his stare lingering mute. Pulled slim volume from pouch, ink still sharp.

"Ah... right."

Snapped back, took it. Wei Clan Three Fates Physiognomy—face-reading manual, thin but dense. Flipped through—fresh angles, Qi Yun vein blind spots. Dove in absorbed.

Incense stick burned quick skim. Surfaced slow—room not empty. Eyes locked hers: dimples faint, watching fond.

Cheeks heated his turn. "Sorry—lost track. Your take on reading fates... fresh twists. Differs wild from Qi Yun lines. Sparks flying."

"Good."

She settled cross-legged close—breaths mingled, bath-damp fragrance laced her quiet scent, teasing senses. Walls down tonight—gaze steady, smile open.

"Back in Artifact Talisman, we chewed fate plenty. You pack skill. Read me? Divine what's coming?"