Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 151: Council at Tiger Head Mountain

This wasn't a dream. He had finally crossed into Foundation Establishment.

Qi Xiu soared at the altitude favored by cultivators of his new realm, birds and clouds wheeling far below. Anxiety gnawed at him—worries about his sect's safety gnawed like persistent rats—but even that couldn't eclipse the raw thrill. One leap from fish to dragon, the world suddenly his to roam. Freedom pulsed through him, intoxicating.

Days of nonstop flight brought him to the southern fringes of the Wei clan's territory. He still had half his reserves left. No wonder cultivators chased this path with reckless abandon through the ages. The upgrade hit every angle: status, power, lifespan. It hooked you, dragged you under. Lifetimes wasted in pursuit, and who could blame them?

Even his vision stretched farther now. At the edge of sight, a low-grade flying spirit beast approached, three Qi Refining cultivators perched atop. From afar, they called out: "We're the war zone enforcers! Which senior are you? State your name—combat zone ahead, no further!"

"Qi Xiu of Chu Qin!" he boomed back. As they drew near, he recognized the lead rider: the Wei clan attendant from his wedding to Min-niang years ago.

The man clocked him too, face twisting with shock and something murkier. His bow came stiff, awkward as a rusted hinge—every inch of it forced.

*He's chummy with Min-niang,* Qi Xiu thought, *but he's always looked down his nose at me, all superior sneers. Times change. He's still stuck at late Qi Refining; I've hit Foundation Establishment. Hmph.*

He let the pressure of his new realm roll out deliberately, forcing the man's head lower. A petty satisfaction bloomed in his chest—sweet, long-overdue payback.

"Uh, Wei Minming pays respects to Senior Qi..."

The pressure bent him low. He struggled a beat, then folded fully, salute crisp and formal. Realm trumped all; dignity bowed to it. "Head southwest from here, Senior. Tiger Head Mountain—that's where your sect's posted."

"Thanks."

Qi Xiu flicked a casual half-arch of his hand, veered southwest, and left them in his wake.

Back on the beast, one of the other Qi Refiners eyed his fading silhouette. "That senior looks unfamiliar. Can't place him."

Wei Minming's gut twisted with sour envy. "Fresh breakthrough, that's all. I was his wedding attendant back when he married into our Wei clan. All bows and scrapes to me then. Now? Foundation Establishment, and he's strutting like a rooster on a dung heap."

The outsiders—non-Wei by blood—weren't about to badmouth a Foundation Establishment cultivator behind his back. They chuckled politely and resumed patrol.

Qi Xiu didn't fly far before spotting the peak—tall, vaguely beast-shaped. Tiger Head Mountain. He dropped his sword light and touched down.

The instant his feet hit dirt, the first-tier Phantom Moon Spirit Sword—from the sect's fresh stockpile—let out a mournful keen and snapped into pieces. Ruined.

With Mo Jianxin's smithing skills sharpening over the years, Phantom Moon Swords had become Chu Qin's signature gear. Sharp, swift for a first-tier flying blade—but fragile as glass, zero defense. Driving it with Foundation Establishment power? Overkill. Qi Xiu, still green at this level, had poured in too much force. Fried it clean through.

*That's the second one I've wrecked. Time to hunt down a proper second-tier match.*

He pushed the thought aside, scanning the mountain. Barely a chokepoint—more a half-hearted defensive perch. The whole thing shimmered under a shielding array, internals hidden tight. Surroundings looked calm, almost sleepy. No war vibes at all.

Relief eased some knots in his gut. Then a mischievous spark lit up. Foundation Establishment had stripped away old restraints; he indulged the whim. Channeling his full realm, he hammered three palm strikes into the array—boom, boom, boom. The barrier shuddered like a drum.

"Who goes there? You dare trespass on Mountain Capital turf!"

Zhang Shishi's voice barked from inside—bluster masking fear. Qi Xiu stifled a laugh, warmth flooding him. He pitched his tone rough and unfamiliar: "You idiots don't recognize me anymore? Open up and roll out the welcome!"

"State your name, or else—"

But someone inside had already pegged him. "Husband!" A graceful figure burst from the array, racing toward him.

There she was—Wei Min-niang, his stunning wife. Qi Xiu's nose stung; tears pricked. He caught her mid-stride, pulling her close. A hundred days apart, and she felt thinner, worn down. These months had clearly ground her raw.

Their eyes locked. He cupped her tear-streaked face—pear blossoms in rain. Foundation Establishment meant no more holding back. Broad daylight be damned; he kissed away each salty drop. "No more tears. I've got you now. I've got you..."

"Mm!" She smiled through sobs, offering her lips. Right there outside Tiger Head Mountain, they clung together, lost in a deep, lingering kiss.

"Ahem..."

A few pointed coughs shattered the moment. Qi Xiu glanced up. The array gaped open, disciples arrayed in neat formation—kneeling en masse. Bai Xiaosheng stood front and center, smirking. "Sect Leader Qi leads by example. Sizhao, Wuying, Hu'er, Du'er—take notes!"

Only then did it hit them: the audience. Especially the wide-eyed kids, gawking from their knees. Min-niang flushed crimson, shoving him away and ducking behind.

"You—"

*That lazy bastard!* Qi Xiu opened his mouth to fire back, but another figure barreled in. Before he could react, an older man crushed him in a hug.

"Senior Brother! You did it! You did it! I knew you could—I always knew!"

It was Zhang Shishi, pushing forty now. Normally the picture of poise and decorum, but here he was, eyes glistening, voice choked. Shen Chang and Yu Jing piled on next. The four clasped arms, gazes locked. Memories surged—hardships from two decades back. A tangle of emotions knotted in Qi Xiu's throat.

"Ah... you all..."

These disciples, all middle-aged now. Qi Xiu knew their hearts too well. He stroked each head in turn. Twenty years, gone in a blink. Of the ones he'd brought south: Gu Ji, Huang He, Pan Rong, Zhan Yuan dead; He Yu fled. Five lost out of nine. Just these three left, plus Qin Weiyu holding Black River Peak. How could he not ache? Tears spilled—hot, unashamed.

...

They ushered him inside. The makeshift hall was sparse: a few tables, chairs, and emptiness. Adjacent quarters? Bare-bones at best.

First came the formal kowtows and chants—congratulations on the sect leader's Foundation Establishment triumph. Then Bai Xiaosheng faced Qi Xiu across the table; everyone else split into ranks, seated. Time for business.

Bai Muhan led off: "Thanks to Min-niang's pull, the Wei clan stuck us on this southern line. The Luo family's jumped in with the Artifact-and-Talisman Alliance, sure—but they're just sniffing for scraps. No skin off their nose to die for Alliance grudges. They're hanging back, watching. Keeps us safe for now."

Bai Xiaosheng picked up the thread: "But the Wei clan's overall picture? Grim. Shouldn't we plan ahead?"

Qi Xiu had mulled this the whole flight over. He countered: "What do you suggest?"

Bai Xiaosheng glanced at Min-niang, hesitated, then dropped his usual flippancy. Voice grave: "Stay or bail—those are the options. I'd say prep early. You haven't heard? The Wei aren't just herding us into the fight; some are shaking us down with excuses."

"Hm?"

Qi Xiu frowned. "What's that about?"

Min-niang's eyes reddened again. "It's those earrings you brought back from White Mountain depths. After I reported them, clan whispers started. Some claim you caused Aunt's death. Others say her relics all went secretly to me—the married-off daughter—and demand I hand them over."

"Bottom line: they want a cut!"

Zhang Shishi cut in, fuming. "Especially Aunt Wei Wan's two good-for-nothing grandsons. They've shown up here multiple times, all snarls and threats. Utterly... shameless. Scoundrels!"

"Uh..."

Seeing their righteous fury, Qi Xiu felt a twinge of unease. The accusations were baseless, sure—but Wei Wan *had* died at Duoluo Nuo's hands, and he'd buried the truth. Guilt pricked, sharp.

He shot Min-niang an apologetic look. "Groundless nonsense, but it could snowball. We're under their roof—swallow it this once."

Qi Xiu's word was law in the sect; now, with Foundation Establishment, even more so. Grumbles lingered, but heads dipped in silent assent.

"Since Uncle—er, Sect Leader—wants to smooth it over, you'll need to hit the Wei clan's Elder Council yourself. Get a straight answer there—cut off any loose ends for those leeches."

Yu Deno couldn't duck this time; Wei enforcers had dragged him to Tiger Head too. Years handling diplomacy had honed his instincts. He knew the drill.

"Elder Council? What's that?"

Qi Xiu had never heard of it.

Yu Deno explained: Since the war kicked off, Wei Xuan had been glued to Heaven-Attraction Mountain frontline. No breaks. So he formed a seven-member council of late Foundation Establishment elders to handle Mountain Capital affairs. Collective decisions. Wei Xuan's faction? Three seats. Old Wei Tong loyalists? Four. A sop to keep them leashed.

New turf left Qi Xiu in the dark. He pondered, then nodded. "Fine. Set up the meeting, Deno. I'll head to Mountain Capital myself."

Bai Muhan unrolled a massive map next, briefing the war layout. From the parchment, Qi Xiu saw the Wei clan half-encircled by Alliance and Luo forces. Outmatched in strength, timing, terrain, allies—doomed on paper.

"In chaos, survival first," Bai Xiaosheng murmured, finger tapping Heaven-Attraction Mountain. "Ruo clan's the hammer out front; Wei overseers the whip at our backs. If the front crumbles, it's dominoes. No recovery. So... time to read the winds. I say we cut a secret deal with the Luo across the way. If things go south, we bolt that direction—whole family. Hunker under them, live to fight another day."

Eyes turned to Qi Xiu—Min-niang included. They'd hashed this out already, leaned one way.

A pact like that? Risky as hell. If the Wei clan held? That paper became a death warrant, lives dangling on Luo whims. Qi Xiu hedged: "Let me think it over."

Bai Xiaosheng pursed his lips, held his tongue. But Mo Guino piped up: "Current vibes on this southern line? Every Wei-affiliated sect's scouting exits. Rumors say plenty have already flipped to Luo secretly. We drag our feet, and our 'lifeline' turns into a pat on the back. Big difference in how they treat us then."

"Uh... let's revisit after my Mountain Capital trip. Yeah, after that."

Qi Xiu knew the logic held water, but resolve slipped through his fingers. He dodged their expectant stares, stonewalling with delays.