Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 154: One Man Turns the Tide

Bodies collided in the dim lamplight—skin slick with sweat and scented oil, the air thick with musk and low, broken moans.

Min-niang lay facedown across the bedding, long hair plastered wetly to her shoulders and back. Flushed patches bloomed across her cheeks, her neck, the elegant line of her spine. She bit down hard on a corner of the sheet, muffling the sounds that kept escaping—half pain, half helpless pleasure—as Qi Xiu drove into her again and again with steady, punishing rhythm.

Her head snapped back suddenly. Spine arched. A long, shuddering whimper vibrated through her throat.

Ecstasy rolled over her in slow, drowning waves—half dream, half waking delirium.

Then—

*Bang bang bang. Master—bang bang bang. Master—bang bang bang. Master…*

The knocking shattered everything.

Qi Xiu cursed under his breath. “Damn it. That little Wuying… getting harder and harder to sense coming.” He pulled out with visible reluctance, the sudden emptiness drawing a small, involuntary whine from Min-niang. He dressed quickly, opened the door just wide enough to slip through, and shut it behind him—leaving his wife curled on the bed, still trembling from the interrupted peak.

“So late. What is it?”

He strode into the main hall and took the host’s seat. Almost the entire sect was already assembled—every disciple staring at him with naked, feverish admiration. The intensity of it made him pause.

“Sect Leader…” Yu Deno could barely contain himself. “You were right. The news just came from the Wei clan. Three days ago they launched a surprise attack on the Artifact-and-Talisman Alliance rear lines. Four mountain gates razed. Over a hundred enemy dead.”

Qi Xiu frowned. “A breakout attack? With their current strength, how did they even punch through?”

“You remember Huo Hu?”

The name hit like a thrown knife. Qi Xiu’s mind flashed back to Mountain Capital years earlier—the day that one man had obliterated Si Wenguang with a single move. A walking calamity in human skin. “How could I forget? But word was he’s the Huo clan’s golden child from the old Beast-Taming Gate. He acted on his own back then—challenged Si Wenguang without orders. Took the win, sure, but the backlash injured him badly enough to stall his Golden Core breakthrough. The Huo clan blamed the Wei for it. The two families cut ties completely. No contact since.”

Yu Deno grinned. “The Huo clan may have washed their hands of the Wei—but Huo Hu himself? Proud as hell. Straight as a blade. He knew the fault wasn’t Wei Tong’s. Whatever Wei Xuan said to him this time, it worked. He slipped his family leash and came running.”

“The Alliance never saw it coming. Their Golden Cores—cowards to a man—refused to face him one-on-one. A single Foundation Establishment cultivator riding a giant flood dragon tore their rear to pieces.”

Bai Xiaosheng strolled in at that moment, a feather fan suddenly in his hand. He flicked it open with a theatrical snap and began waving it like a general surveying a map. “One man and one beast flip the entire board. The Wei already had superior mobility with those old Beast-Taming Gate ships. Add Huo Hu and his monster? The Alliance’s four Golden Cores are running around like headless chickens—too busy covering their own backsides to coordinate.”

He plopped down beside Qi Xiu as though the ugly words they’d exchanged last time had never happened.

It had been over half a month since the Mo grandfather and grandson slipped south in the night. That single defection had cracked something inside Qi Xiu. Control slipping through his fingers. His own judgment questioned. His authority challenged in open hall. Worst of all—the long road of cultivation ahead suddenly looked foggy and uncertain.

These past weeks he’d barely left the bedroom except to drill Chu Wuying on basics. The rest of the time he buried himself in Min-niang—using her body to drown out the gnawing anxiety. He’d avoided everyone else.

Now this news hit like cold water on fevered skin. Relief, yes—but suspicion lingered.

“It’s good news,” he said carefully. “But we’re outsiders here. Everything we hear comes filtered through the Wei. If it’s false, they may already be collapsing and spreading this rumor just to keep us from bolting. Even if it’s true—the Luo clan will react to the shift. We stay vigilant. Muhan, double the patrols. Everyone else—keep your eyes open.”

He rose and left without waiting for replies, already turning back toward the bedroom and the woman waiting inside.

Bai Muhan pinched the bridge of her nose. “Double sentries starting tonight. Dismissed.”

Groans rose from every corner. Even the ten-year-olds dragged their feet as they filed out. No mortal servants had come south with them; cooking, cleaning, everything fell on their shoulders when they weren’t cultivating or standing watch.

A tall young woman strode ahead of the group, long ponytail bouncing with each powerful stride of her legs.

“Senior Sister Zhao!”

She paused just outside the hall, about to summon her flying sword. Turned.

Qin Siguo jogged up, grinning.

Zhao Yao—once the starving girl who’d begged her way to Immortal Grove Hollow—had grown into something striking. Taller than Qi Xiu now, features sharpened into bold, almost masculine beauty that somehow made her even more arresting. She frowned. “I’m on patrol. Double shift tonight. If it’s not urgent, spit it out.”

Qin Siguo’s smile widened. “Don’t play dumb. That little flying sword you lost to me last spar—you planning to welch?”

“Tch. One first-tier low-grade sword. I’m not that petty.”

She fished the tiny blade from her storage pouch and tossed it over. Regret flickered across her face for half a heartbeat.

Qin Siguo caught it, thumb tracing the edge. Noticed how meticulously maintained it was—handle wrapped in several brightly colored silk tassels. The work of someone who genuinely loved the weapon.

“This was the prize from our very first sect tournament,” he said quietly. “Remember? The one you won.”

He tossed it back.

“How could I forget?” Zhao Yao caught it, expression softening. She held her hand low. “You were only this tall back then…”

She laughed—bright, unguarded. “What, you don’t want it anymore?”

“Keep it. I’ve got no use for it.” Qin Siguo’s usual playfulness vanished. “Senior Sister—you’ve been losing to me consistently lately. Do you know why?”

Zhao Yao sobered instantly. “Why?”

“Because you refuse to let go of close-quarters fighting. The higher your cultivation climbs, the deadlier and more unpredictable melee becomes. You’ve poured years into refining Spirit Monkey Steps and its variants—but that manual was written by a second-layer artifact refiner who died because he got careless around a mortal. A mortal.”

“Cultivators are measured by spiritual power in the end. Obsess over minor paths like that and you’ll keep falling further behind. Like now.”

Zhao Yao stared at the ground for a long moment. Then she smiled—small, rueful. “Got it, junior brother. I’ll ask Uncle Bai what I should do instead.”

“Siguo! Kitchen duty!”

Zhang Shishi’s voice rang out. The two exchanged helpless grins, said quick goodbyes, and parted.

…

Another month passed in tense, strangely peaceful routine.

Qi Xiu’s warnings never materialized. The Luo clan kept quietly subverting southern-line sects—whispers, bribes, promises—but never launched an assault. Tiger Head Mountain remained unnaturally calm.

Meanwhile the news from Heaven-Attraction Mountain kept getting better.

“Twenty days ago: Huo Hu and his flood dragon stormed an Alliance subsidiary sect. One Foundation Establishment dead, twelve Qi Refining.”

“Fifteen days ago: Huo Hu ambushed an Alliance patrol alone. One Foundation Establishment, five Qi Refining.”

“Ten days ago: Wei main formation at Heaven-Attraction Mountain launched a major sortie. Seven Foundation Establishment, eighty-three Qi Refining killed.”

“Seven days ago: Wei Xuan, Huo Hu, and the flood dragon struck Lu Shilu’s ancestral seat. Five Foundation Establishment, twenty-seven Qi Refining dead. The mountain was set ablaze.”

“Six days ago: full-scale clash at Heaven-Attraction Mountain. Heavy casualties on both sides. Lu Shilu gravely wounded.”

“Countless smaller skirmishes—wins and losses split roughly even…”

Yu Deno stood in the center of the hall, face glowing as he finished reading the latest dispatch. He pulled a single sheet of paper from his sleeve and held it high.

“Three days ago Broad Exchange Pavilion stepped in. They’ve invited River-Connecting Alliance, Spiritwood Alliance, and Southern Chu Sect as witnesses. The leaders of the three warring parties are summoned to Black River Market in fifteen days to negotiate peace.”

The hall erupted in buzzing.

Shen Chang actually jumped up. “It’s over! The war’s ending!”

He caught Qi Xiu’s flat stare and sat back down fast.

Bai Muhan’s voice cut through the noise. “Dawn is darkest right before sunrise. These next fifteen days—everyone stays sharp. No slacking.”

She turned to the two Foundation Establishment cultivators at the head table. “And you two great lords should probably show your faces outside once in a while. Starting tomorrow—rotating patrol duty.”

“Uh…”

“Ahem… yes, of course.”

Both men flushed. Bai Muhan held wartime command authority; they couldn’t argue.

After the meeting dispersed, Bai Xiaosheng caught Qi Xiu by the sleeve.

He produced a flask of spirit wine and two cups, filled them both, and raised his own. “This one’s on me. An apology. Brother Qi—please.”

Qi Xiu had been carrying the same guilt. Foundation Establishment had somehow made him even more stubborn about face. Seeing Bai Xiaosheng take the first step melted the last resistance. They clinked cups. Quiet apologies were exchanged. The page turned.

Qi Xiu took a sip. The wine burned—fierce, excellent second-tier spirit liquor. He glanced over. Bai Xiaosheng had already upended the entire flask down his throat. Face flushed crimson. Eyes glassy.

He slung an arm around Qi Xiu’s shoulders, swaying. “My whole life… one long failure. Family ruined because of me. Wife and daughter dragged down. Face lost everywhere. The only thing I ever prided myself on was my learning, my eye for strategy. Even before Foundation Establishment I loved dissecting other people’s mistakes, lecturing on power and maneuvering. Always thought—if I ever led a sect, I’d weave alliances, play the game, flip the board with a turn of my hand. Clouds and rain at my command.”

“After this war… I see how laughable I was. Your knowledge may not match mine, but your vision—standing against all of us, holding firm when we were screaming to jump ship—your resolve is something I’ll never touch. I’m convinced. Truly convinced.”

He kept praising Qi Xiu while quietly tearing himself down.

Qi Xiu felt a pang. “Brother Bai, you’re drunk.”

“Wine doesn’t get people drunk. People get themselves drunk…”

Bai Xiaosheng stared at the floor after that, silent no matter how Qi Xiu tried to coax him.

Qi Xiu sighed inwardly. How do you comfort a man like this?

Then a small, wicked impulse rose. He quietly brushed See Human Nature across Bai Xiaosheng.

The feedback made him smirk.

“Brother Bai… want to know who the other two people are that I rank alongside Wei Xuan in my personal list of the sharpest minds I’ve ever met?”

Bai Xiaosheng’s head jerked up. “Who?”

“You and me.”

A beat of stunned silence.

“Really?”

“Completely serious.”

Bai Xiaosheng came alive like someone had flipped a switch. He grabbed Qi Xiu’s arm and shook it. “I knew it! I just missed the Huo Hu factor—that’s why my judgment went sideways. But come on—who could’ve predicted one Foundation Establishment would swing the whole war? Too monstrous! My real strength has always been—”

“Your weakness has always been—”

Bai Xiaosheng launched right back into his usual rambling stream-of-consciousness lecture.

Qi Xiu rubbed his brow wearily.

*The insufferable bastard is back.*