Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 140: Ambushed at the Secluded Spring

Deep in the White Mountains the trees grew impossibly tall, crowns knit so thick they strangled daylight. The whole forest existed in perpetual twilight—dim, damp, and watchful.

Qi Xiu stood over the mangled corpse of an ape-like ferocious beast, its head cleanly severed from its shoulders. He said nothing, just stared.

Five days since he’d crossed into these depths. The faint, insistent tug of his bloodline intuition had guided him this far, but it couldn’t stop the endless ambushes. Cunning spirit beasts, oversized mundane predators, bloodthirsty ferocious ones—the undergrowth crawled with death wearing every shape.

This unnamed ape had been the seventeenth he’d killed. Also the smartest. For one terrifying heartbeat he’d thought his life would end here, skull cracked open like a melon.

The closer he drew to his Foundation chance, the duller his sense of danger became. A cruel irony. Keep going like this and some mindless animal would eventually finish what stronger foes never could.

He crouched, pried open the ape’s skull with the tip of his broken sword, and extracted a fist-sized beast core glowing sickly yellow-green. The pelt, claws, bones—too much hassle, too little value. He left them to rot where they fell.

A long breath to steady his pulse. No turning back now. Foundation Establishment dangled just ahead; he’d crawl through hell before he gave up.

He walked on, inventorying his storage pouch as he went.

Five assorted beast cores. A few casually picked spirit herbs. One first-tier spirit fox pelt—that was it. The rest of his “harvest” in five days.

The fox skin he’d taken extra care with. It reminded him of the one he once gave Chu Zhuangyuan—soft, silver-tipped, beautiful. He planned to bring it home for Minniang.

The losses, though… three sets of Chu Qin first-tier robes shredded beyond repair. The second-tier flying sword Chu Youyan had gifted him snapped clean in half during the last fight. Talismans and pills burned through like cheap incense. Ever since Bai Xiaosheng restructured the sect’s finances, even the sect leader had slim personal funds. A few days out here and he’d already spent two-fifths of everything he owned.

Worst was the sword. A ceremonial gift, sure—more showpiece than weapon—but still second-tier. Losing it hurt worse than any wound.

Now he was down to two simple formation sets and the first-tier Illusory Moon Spirit Sword Mo Jianxin had forged. Decent talismans and pills remained, but without that flying sword his offensive power had cratered.

Since breaking through to the tenth layer of Qi Refining, the sixth aperture of his Seven Apertures Exquisite Heart had opened. The innate talent it granted was called Wind-and-Water Observation—pure geomancy. It let him read the rank and nature of spirit veins, grottoes, feng shui layouts. Useful in theory. Useless in a brawl.

He was still brooding over that when instinct prickled.

He twisted mid-stride, rolled like a spirit monkey. Thunk—a wooden spike buried itself in the tree where his head had been a heartbeat earlier. The shaft quivered from the force.

“Who’s there?”

Qi Xiu slapped a defensive talisman onto his chest; a faint barrier shimmered into place. He scanned upward.

Perched on a high branch was a foot-long monkey, eyes burning with feral hate.

He sighed inwardly, raised the Illusory Moon Spirit Sword, and sent it spinning in a lethal arc. The creature didn’t even try to dodge—just stared stupidly as the blade cleaved it in half.

These half-feral things were everywhere: too many to count, intelligence flickering between beast and spirit. Even when they met someone far stronger they charged anyway. Mindless. Exhausting. Without his bloodline intuition he’d already be fertilizer.

He walked over, split the skull with the sword tip. Nothing. No beast core.

Another defensive talisman wasted. Fresh irritation flared. He kicked the severed head as hard as he could. It sailed into the undergrowth.

Thump—then a wet splash.

Water. And not shallow.

Qi Xiu frowned. According to the local gazetteer he’d bought in Bosen City, pools and springs in these depths were almost always death traps. A Qi Refining cultivator had no business lingering.

He turned to leave, picking a new direction.

Three steps later the intuition slammed back—sharp, unmistakable.

The chance was right here. Right around that pool.

Joy and dread arrived together. Joy because the Dao was so close he could taste it. Dread because anything this obvious in a place this dangerous had teeth.

No skirting it. No avoiding it. The path lay straight ahead.

He paced a tight circle, exhaled, then strode toward the sound of water.

The dense green canopy fell away. A deep, ink-black spring opened before him—still as polished obsidian.

Nothing like he’d feared. No ambush. Just a few wild deer drinking at the edge. They lifted their heads at his approach, startled, then bounded away into the trees.

Qi Xiu swept his gaze around. Wind-and-Water Observation flowed automatically.

The pool and its surroundings formed what the old texts called a Secluded Spring Land—feng shui pattern of hidden depths and quiet accumulation.

So where was his Foundation opportunity?

The pool itself was small, the layout simple. Nothing jumped out. The water plunged into darkness; his divine sense couldn’t penetrate far. But at the place where spring met forest edge, a wide patch of strange spiritual shadow hung—scenery normal on the surface, yet something felt profoundly off.

He stared harder. The shadow didn’t read as natural.

If it wasn’t natural, then—

Realization hit like cold water.

“Shit—”

He retreated fast.

A low, mocking chuckle rolled out of the shadow.

“Heh. A mere Qi Refining punk actually saw through my illusion array. Well then—don’t leave just yet. Stay a while.”

A cultivator stepped into view. A thick spiritual whip lashed toward Qi Xiu.

He bolted into the trees, heart hammering with bitter regret. Lamp blind—classic mistake. Not natural formation? Of course it was an array. He’d stood there gawking like an idiot.

Spirit Monkey Steps pushed to the limit—zig, zag, twist. The spiritual lash chased like a living thing, never quite losing ground.

An array he couldn’t see through had to be at least second-tier. The owner? Foundation Establishment for sure.

Done. He was done.

Then a massive suction yanked him backward. The whip snapped into rope form, binding him wrist to ankle, tight enough to bruise bone.

“What the—slippery little bastard, just like a damn monkey. Get over here!”

The cultivator beckoned. Qi Xiu flew through the air, landing hard at the man’s feet.

The Foundation expert was middle-aged, burly, full beard, rough features carved from years of hard living. He seized Qi Xiu by the collar and poured icy killing intent straight into his meridians.

Pain exploded—like ten thousand ants gnawing marrow.

“You old fart, coming here alone—what for? Spy for someone? Speak!”

Qi Xiu’s Mind-Knowing Heart spun once, calm amid agony. He let panic flood his voice.

“This humble one… this one is just a rogue cultivator! Hunting spirit beasts for pocket money—no one sent me! Senior, mercy—please!”

“Heh. Who’re you kidding?”

The man dragged him inside the array.

Reality shifted. Outside: empty poolside. Inside: a rough camp—tents, fire pit, scattered cookware, junk piled like someone had been squatting here for months.

A sealing talisman slapped onto Qi Xiu’s forehead. Spiritual Qi locked. Limbs frozen. He became luggage.

The Foundation cultivator patted him down, ripped away the storage pouch, rummaged.

“This is all you’ve got? At your age?”

He tossed aside the Nameless Compass, the Exquisite Pagoda—things Qi Xiu would have died to protect—then pocketed the Illusory Moon Spirit Sword and the two formation kits. Still grumbling, he flipped through the talismans one by one.

“A rogue with this little coin wouldn’t even come here—”

Qi Xiu rolled his eyes, played indignant.

“I’m a rogue cultivator. If I had real wealth, would I be out here risking my neck?”

“Heh. Fair point—wait.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. Backhand slap—Qi Xiu’s cheek ballooned instantly.

He dangled a yellow talisman in front of Qi Xiu’s face.

“Array-Breaking Talisman? And you still claim you’re just some nobody? Got some nerve sneaking around my setup, huh?”