Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 138: Wei Tong Passes

Strange dreams hadn’t troubled him in years, yet here one came again—hot, nameless limbs tangled with his own, bodies slick and urgent. The Mind-Knowing Heart Technique stirred quietly in the background, pulling him free. Qi Xiu woke with a start.

Soft, intoxicating warmth pressed against him below the waist. He blinked down.

Wei Minniang and Kan Qin. Both of them.

“You’re awake?” Wei Minniang noticed the shift in his breathing. A wicked little smile curved her lips as she pushed Kan Qin’s head lower. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, “Take her. She’s not a child anymore…”

The word “no” died somewhere in his throat. Face heating, Qi Xiu gave the smallest nod.

…

If Yu Deno hadn’t kept pacing anxiously outside the chamber, Qi Xiu might never have left that sweet, decadent trap of wife and maid—the kind of soft prison even heroes willingly rot in.

“What is it?”

He straightened his collar and stepped out. One look at Yu Deno’s ashen, frantic expression told him it was serious.

“Wei Tong Ancestor has passed away! Word just came from the Wei family!”

Before Qi Xiu could respond, Yu Deno dragged him up to the roof. Sure enough, a thick column of white smoke rose from the direction of Shandu Mountain—climbing impossibly high, visible for leagues in every direction. A funeral signal no one could miss.

“Wei Tong was already at the end of his natural lifespan. He took heavy injuries last time too. Death wasn’t exactly a surprise,” Qi Xiu said calmly.

Yu Deno’s wide-eyed panic almost made him chuckle. “Don’t look so rattled. This was always in the cards. If I’m right, the Wei family will send someone to notify us of the mourning period any moment now. Go to Shandu Mountain in my name. Offer condolences. Tell them I was wounded at Mount Tianyin and can’t travel easily. Watch how they handle it, then we’ll decide what to do next.”

“But—” Yu Deno sputtered. “You’re not going yourself? That… that doesn’t look right!”

“Exactly. Not going is the right move.” Qi Xiu’s tone cooled. “At Tianyin we bled—people died, people were crippled. Days have passed since then, and the Wei family hasn’t lifted a finger to reward or even acknowledge us. Where are the benefits they promised?”

He gave a short, dry snort.

“Wei Tong and Wei Xuan were never truly on the same side. Their kinship is thin at best. Wei Tong only dragged Wei Xuan here after losing an internal power struggle in the Beast Taming Sect. Wei Xuan reaped massive gains without breaking a sweat, sure—but over the years I’ve watched closely. There’s almost no real interaction between their disciples. Whatever closeness outsiders see is surface-level at most. And back then Wei Tong discarded Zhao Liangde like worn-out shoes. That wasn’t honorable. I never liked the man. Remember this going forward: we watch Wei Xuan’s face now. Showing too much devotion to Wei Tong’s memory might actually displease him.”

Yu Deno exhaled slowly as understanding settled in. He bowed deeply. “Understood. I’ll take Shen Chang and head to Shandu Mountain at once.”

Qi Xiu watched him hurry off, then turned back inside.

The two women had already pulled themselves out of the haze. Wei Minniang had drawn her scarlet robe over her bare curves; Kan Qin lay on her side, cheeks flaming, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Wei Tong is dead,” Qi Xiu said without preamble. “Minniang, gather all the young ones. Tell them to stay put—no running around, no mischief. Confine them to the Scripture Pavilion. Let them read, study the Dao, behave.”

He didn’t linger for more tenderness. Instead he went out again, summoned Zhang Shishi and the rest, and gave them the same order: hole up, act sick if necessary, handle nothing. Leave everything—absolutely everything—to Yu Deno and Shen Chang until they saw how Wei Xuan intended to play this.

Not long after, Shen Chang returned with a report. The Wei family had simply acknowledged the message. Nothing else.

That only confirmed Qi Xiu’s instincts.

Wei Tong’s death marked the official beginning of Wei Xuan’s sole rule over Shandu Mountain. In times of transition, the ones who rushed forward to curry favor often ended up trampled. So Qi Xiu stayed away from the condolences, skipped the entire funeral rites, and simply remained in his grass hut—cultivating when the mood struck, enjoying the company of his women when it didn’t. Days passed in lazy, selfish contentment.

Yu Deno returned midway through the mourning period with word from Wei Xuan: aside from the funeral itself, the sects that participated in the Battle of Mount Tianyin would soon receive formal rewards and punishments. Chu Qin Sect—having fought hard—would be among those rewarded. A handful of smaller sects, however, had broken and fled when the dying Tianyin cultivators turned desperate. Those cowards would be dealt with.

“I’m still not going,” Qi Xiu told him. “You and Guinong attend the reward ceremony. Keep your heads down. Speak only when spoken to.”

He sent Yu Deno off again, this time with Mo Guinong in tow. Two old men together—nearing a hundred and fifty years between them—were unlikely to make any serious blunder.

As for the size of the reward… that was out of his hands. The Wei family would give what they chose to give.

Wei Tong’s passing was a major event in northern White Mountain. Almost every local sect sent representatives to pay respects. Even the Chu Clan of Southern Chu dispatched a Golden Core elder. The current sect leader of the southern Beast Taming Sect—once Wei Tong’s bitter rival—sent people as well. Death extinguished old grudges like a snuffed lamp. Only one nearby power remained conspicuously absent: the Artifact & Talisman Alliance. Their silence spoke louder than any attendance could. The rift between them and the Wei family was far from healed.

A Golden Core cultivator’s funeral was an elaborate, exhausting affair. Yu Deno and the others stayed at Shandu Mountain for ninety-nine full days. By the time the rites finally concluded, both old men looked half-broken, joints creaking like dry branches. They returned to the sect gate together, weary but carrying one piece of genuinely good news.