Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 114: The Morning After

Dawn barely broke when Qi Xiu stirred awake. The spot beside him lay empty—his wife had slipped away again, no doubt to tend to their daughter. Yue'er clung hardest at this age, pulling Wei Minniang between bed and child like a tether.

Stepping outside, he ran straight into Zhan Yuan and his wife. The couple scraped by running the spirit tea shop, the small cultivator's inn, and the herb stall. This time they'd dragged He Yu, Qin Weiyu, and Mo Jianxin all the way from Black River just for his birthday—stayed one night, now facing the long haul back. Exhausting work.

They chatted standing there, talk drifting quick to Bai Xiaosheng—two years left before his freedom.

"I picked up some furniture my father likes—pieces he mentioned. Had Kan Da haul them to the scripture pavilion." Bai Muhan had started prepping his living space ever since learning he'd be free soon, then serve ten years as a Chu Qin guest elder. She quietly pieced together why Qi Xiu had sent her alone to that guaranteed-win challenge back then. Gratitude shifted something in her; she started respecting the plain-faced middle-aged man before her from the heart.

Qi Xiu furrowed his brow. "Why insist on the scripture pavilion? No Spiritual Qi there. He could take my current hall."

"Ah... he just doesn't want company. Says the books outnumber people—perfect for him."

Bitterness tugged at Bai Muhan. Ten years locked in the market ward had scarred her father deep. Freedom loomed closer; he'd lightened up some. But he'd declared plain: finish the decade as guest, then vanish far away, never return. Father and daughter might never meet again.

"If that's his wish, let him have it." Qi Xiu could offer nothing else.

He Yu and the others emerged then, linking up with the couple for the road home. After seeing them off, Qi Xiu resumed his slow patrol. Sure enough, Kan Da directed burly servants lugging heavy rosewood pieces into the pavilion—mostly study furnishings. Pan Rong supervised, tweaking the array; mortals couldn't enter otherwise.

At the main hall, faint wine ghosts lingered in the air. Old serving women scrubbed away the mess. Qi Xiu's nose wrinkled. Yesterday's feast had sprawled too wide—inviting hordes of mortals, gorging like that. Not fitting for a Dao sect. Made the place feel downright worldly.

Self-reproach settled in. Voices drifted from a side hall. He peeked: morning lessons underway. Ming Sansheng guided the young ones in basics—mostly rote memory for now. Qin Siguo and Yu Shang still tiny; foundation arts first. Once they condensed Spiritual Qi like Li Tan, memory and insight would sharpen with cultivation. Deeper studies later would stick twice as fast.

Zhao Yao couldn't read yet; Ming Jiu coached her stroke by stroke on big characters.

The old scholar boasted Confucian mastery, but his Daoist roots ran solid. He slipped in personal views sometimes, yet stuck mostly to benevolence, filial piety, loyalty, forgiveness. Good lessons all the same.

Kids progressed uneven—Ming adapted well. Yu Denou would've lost patience quick.

Qi Xiu listened a bit, nodding inside. No wonder the man could spar words with a Foundation Establishment like Bai Xiaosheng. Reassured, he turned to leave.

Morning light caught them then: Wei Minniang and Yue'er hand in hand, heading over. She wore the sect's bold red robe, hair sway gentle with each step. Figure unchanged, but she'd gained that soft, settled grace of a young matron since their first meeting. Features painted perfect; spotting him, her smile bloomed first, phoenix eyes curving warm. Heart-stealing.

"Dropping Yue'er with Old Master Ming. Otherwise she'd turn the place upside down."

She handed the yawning girl to Ming Jiu, ignoring the wails that erupted behind—daughter convinced Mama had abandoned her. Then she grabbed Qi Xiu's arm and bolted back to the hall.

He caught the reluctance in her eyes despite the words. Smiled soft. "She'll be fine. Bunch of five-to-eight-year-olds her age. They'll click quick. Yue'er's outgoing—she'll have a blast."

"Ah... I spoil her rotten. Can't sit still a moment around me. Even meditation's impossible. But leaving her here... when she's older, realizes the gap between immortal and mortal, can't play equal with those kids anymore... it'll break her heart."

Qi Xiu heard the worry clear. Yue'er mortal-born; mixing constant with cultivators spelled trouble. Not yet noticeable at this age. Sect rules: mortal offspring of disciples barred from the mountain after fifteen. The divide would hit then. Truth was, it wouldn't wait that long. Give Qin Siguo and the rest two years of arts—they'd feel immortal perks sharp: stamina, appetite, wits—all leagues apart.

Yue'er tagging along then? Pure awkwardness.

"We'll sort it in two years—when Bai Xiaosheng takes full teaching duties. I'll figure something smooth. These years they're all little; no harm yet."

Wei Minniang buried her face in his chest. Voice muffled, tender. "You're too good to us."

Warmth flooded him like spring melt. Last night's unfinished spark reignited. He leaned in, lips brushing her pale neck, fingers somehow unhooking that dangling hair ornament.

Deep down, she carried a wild streak—once set on him, she'd tease and please every way she knew. Months tangled close, they'd turned comfortable as any old couple. Sensing his mood, she lifted her head, shot a sultry glance. "This early?"

"Mm..."

That darting tongue, burning lips, those soul-pulling eyes—any one enough to unravel him. He wasn't the clueless fool anymore. She'd started with more experience, but [Clarify the Self] cheated fair fights; she'd yielded often. Confidence grew in him now—he seized the lead more. Hand stroked gentle over her hair.

"Hate you..."

She caught on instant, laughing scold soft and charmed. Obedient fingers worked his robes free...