Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 112: Wonders of the Daoist Arts

One wild night.

Qi Xiu gazed at the pale, spent form sprawled across the sheets—his lamb, soft and exhausted—and felt a rush of tenderness mixed with something deeper, a quiet ache of attachment. They'd pushed through until dawn, only for him to realize that keeping [Clarify the Self] running nonstop meant he couldn't crest the pass, no matter how intense it got. Rising left him slick with sweat. A cleaning talisman wiped it away, but her faint, clean scent lingered on his skin, stubborn as ever.

Thirty-nine years alone, and now this—a bond he cherished. He tucked a thin quilt over her gently. In sleep, his wife mumbled something, rolling over like a child lost in dreams. Even her greed for rest painted a scene he could watch forever.

Sun high overhead by the time he stepped out. He told the servants to prepare some spirit-nourished food, ready for when Wei Minniang woke. Then he started his rounds around the mountain gate—a habit forged back when he'd first arrived at Black River Peak. As long as he wasn't in seclusion, he'd patrol once a day, no exceptions.

This time, though, he hurried. No leisurely stroll. He worried she'd wake alone and feel abandoned.

"Sect Leader Senior Brother."

"Sect Leader."

Zhang Shishi and Mo Guinong were out surveying terrain for the mountain-protecting array. Ever since Mo Jianxin handed over the water-refining method for the [Moonshadow Profound Ice Sword] and settled in, Mo Guinong had fulfilled his biggest wish. He'd calmed down, focusing on tending the spirit groves and fields at Immortal Grove Hollow. His experience ran deeper than Yu Denou's, and Zhang Shishi, eager to build ties, pulled him into array planning too.

First day on the job—no real progress yet. Qi Xiu asked a few questions, then moved on. The spirit herbs thrived. Huang Shaoneng might've been rotten to the core, but his touch with plants was unmatched. Mo Guinong proved a solid hand too. On the gentle slopes, the [Yang Talisman Grass]—earliest to harvest—had been planted by Huang Shaoneng in early spring. Now it stood two feet tall, broad leaves dull yellow, prickling like mild burns to the touch. Once they turned full red, it'd be ready. First crop always grew slow; harvest likely by late autumn.

With few people in the sect, affairs stayed light. Qi Xiu checked on Li Tan's lessons next. Yu Denou handled teaching duties—Li Tan his main student. The old man outranked Zhang Shishi in cultivation, but lacked patience. Li Tan wasn't sharp, often leaving the elder fuming, beard twitching.

Li Tan's talent fell short—fine for now. But if promising recruits arrived later, he'd shuffle roles. Especially with new families moving in beyond the Qin clan. Next year's Immortal Ascension Ceremony might uncover kids with Spiritual Roots.

Full circle done, he returned to find two maids waiting outside the thatched hall, food boxes in hand. He took them, waved the girls off, and stepped inside. Wei Minniang lay propped up, wide eyes fixed on him, unblinking.

"Awake? Come eat."

He flicked a cleaning talisman her way. She stretched a slender arm from under the quilt, sniffed it, and wrinkled her nose. "Still smells..."

He reached for another. She threw off the cover instead, stepping down. Those breathtaking curves, pale and full, hit him like a wave all over again.

"What are you staring at?"

Last night's allure hadn't faded; she shot him a playful glare, fingers twitching. The Chu Qin red robe slipped on, veiling the view. One step forward—her legs buckled slightly, a soft gasp escaping.

"You okay?" He moved close, concerned. She leaned on his shoulder, a sudden sweetness flooding her like honey. Phoenix eyes narrowed in mock blame. "Your fault."

"My fault? I was too—"

Her finger pressed his lips. "Teasing, you big idiot."

"Heh..."

A wife like this—what more could a man want? Qi Xiu just grinned like a fool.

They sat to eat. He couldn't stop watching her; she'd glance back—shy one moment, teasing the next. Gone was the cold, heartbroken bride from the wedding day.

The meal dragged on, plates barely touched, no end in sight, until Kan Da reported from outside: Bai Muhan's here with Yue'er.

"Yue'er!"

Wei Minniang hurried out. Bai Muhan approached, face twisted in mock suffering, cradling the girl. "Handing her over, Sister-in-Law. This kid stuffs herself on pork-fish skewers, then fusses for Mama nonstop."

She passed the sleeping Yue'er over. Bai Muhan curtsied to Qi Xiu as he emerged, then paused—eyes darting between them. A knowing smile crept in. "Congrats, Sect Leader Senior Brother. And Sister-in-Law."

"Uh... heh." Qi Xiu caught the implication, awkward laugh escaping. "You two chat. I've got cultivation to do." Bai Muhan had grown bolder since marrying—whatever. Better leave the blushing Wei Minniang to handle her. He retreated to the hall, settling into meditation.

Last night's taste lingered, sharpening his focus. Cycles flowed smooth; the pool of Spiritual Qi in his dantian expanded a fraction more. Eyes open—dusk falling outside.

He stepped out, drawn almost without thinking toward Wei Minniang's hall. Splashing water echoed from afar, mixed with her laughter and Yue'er's giggles—mother and daughter bathing. He lightened his steps, turning back.

Alone again in his hall. A twinge of jealousy toward little Yue'er surprised him. Helpless, he shrugged it off. Back to routine.

Deep into another night. Half-asleep, Qi Xiu felt something slip into his arms—familiar skin against his. He pulled it close, hand finding that sleek waist he'd held for hours. Eyes fluttering open: Wei Minniang's stunning face bloomed in a smile right before him.

"You came..."

"Duh."

She pouted playfully, then sealed his mouth with hers. Qi Xiu melted into the long, deep kiss.

"Oh..."

A soft sigh from her. She nestled closer, breath warm against his ear. "How about we try those wonders of your Daoist arts?" Head buried in his neck, skin flushing pink across pale white, shy as fresh snow.