Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 161: Hidden Patterns and Mother-Daughter

“Second-tier high-grade Moon Shadow Mysterious Ice Sword! Unbreakable edge, razor-sharp, bone-chilling cold, and that signature illusory moon intent! Comes loaded with Ice-Seal Blade skill and Moon Shadow Phantom! Top-tier flight speed!”

The auctioneer at Linked Waters Pavilion bellowed until his throat rasped. Behind him a Foundation Establishment cultivator demonstrated the blade—each swing trailing frost arcs, each flicker bending light into ghostly afterimages. When the sword finally blurred into pure speed, the hall erupted. Those who could afford it leaned forward; those who couldn’t burned with envy anyway.

“Little Jianxin spent over a decade grinding out just two of those swords. You really don’t feel the sting selling one?”

Up in a private box, Wei Minniang kept her voice low. Qi Xiu shook his head.

“Cash is tight. What else can I do?”

Both sighed in unison.

Three straight days and nights locked in discussion with Kong Wen had finally crystallized the next step on his path. Now he needed a matching companion artifact—one that could mesh with the strange generational borrowing method he practiced.

Artifact & Talisman City was off-limits. Buddhist items were scarce in Qi Cloud and South Chu markets. Years ago Linked Waters City had delivered big; this time Qi Xiu brought Minniang and Yue’er along for the nostalgia trip. Kong Wen naturally tagged along.

After half a month combing the city, Kong Wen finally pointed out the target. A second-tier supreme-grade artifact. The gifts from Qi Xiu’s Foundation Establishment ceremony plus the twenty third-tier stones from Flowing Flower Sect weren’t nearly enough. Selling the Moon Shadow Mysterious Ice Sword was non-negotiable. Minniang’s private savings would probably have to go too.

Back in the box, Kong Wen—freshly shaved head gleaming with oil—dominated the table. His wandering sect apparently had no dietary taboos; he tore into premium spirit fish and fine spiritual wine like a starving mortal. Wei Yue’er wrinkled her nose and kept her distance, though she wasn’t above nibbling delicately on a long grilled fish, leaving neat rows of small teeth marks along its spine.

Seventeen now, and still a bottomless pit for food. Taller than her mother by half a head, curves already fuller, face carrying seventy percent of Minniang’s beauty. Watching those soft lips brush the fish, Qi Xiu felt heat coil low in his gut.

Yue’er’s guqin performance at the ceremony had drawn marriage proposals from half a dozen sects—and more than a few hopefuls inside Chu Qin itself. Minniang rejected them all, then quietly laid everything bare to him…

“Alright! Sword’s been used, but condition remains excellent. Starting bid—forty third-tier stones! Any raises?”

The shout snapped Qi Xiu out of the haze. He realized Mind Enlightenment had quietly stalled. Since Foundation Establishment his temper flared faster, grudges stuck harder, lust and killing intent surged without warning. He steadied himself, silently recited a few lines of the Clear Heart Scripture, forced the fire down, and turned back to the floor.

Kong Wen’s advice boiled down to three paths.

Best path: find a foundational Buddhist scripture and start from scratch. Logical—except Qi Xiu relied on generational borrowing. Wasted time.

Middle path—the one they settled on: use the second-tier low-grade Six Consciousnesses Scripture Explanation, focus narrowly on the six consciousnesses as an external technique. Usable through Foundation Establishment. Useless at Golden Core.

Worst path: cultivate only the first three (or four) consciousnesses, picking up practical tricks. Qi Xiu rejected that outright.

“Fifty!”

“Fifty-five!”

Back when he bought the fabrication method it cost thirty third-tier stones. Now a finished sword was already pushing double. Refining profit margins were obscene—if you ignored Mo Jianxin’s decade of labor and every failed attempt.

Flying swords always commanded premium prices. This one’s speed rivaled second-tier supreme-grade. Bidding climbed steadily to seventy, then slowed. Finally stalled at seventy-seven.

Qi Xiu exhaled in relief.

Quick mental tally with Minniang—after auction fees, roughly one hundred twenty third-tier stones liquid. He relayed the number to Kong Wen.

The monk shook his head. “Still might not be enough.”

“Hidden Sorrow Pattern is the legacy of Hidden Sorrow Venerable—equivalent to Golden Core level. These patterns are hand-crafted by high monks of the Esoteric sects, each one a crystallization of the maker’s entire comprehension, meant to accompany cultivation for life. Every single pattern is unique in the world. Not ideal for combat, but collectors go crazy for them. Generational heirlooms. Buddhist treasures.”

Qi Xiu met Minniang’s eyes. She said nothing, simply rose and left the box. Returned minutes later without the second-tier hairpins and ornaments she’d worn—only Wei Wan’s inherited earrings remained, swaying gently.

She pressed the stones into his hand.

Qi Xiu’s vision blurred. Voice thick: “Thank you.”

“Silly…” Minniang leaned against his shoulder. “Everything I have is yours. I only regret that our realms will diverge one day. I won’t be able to walk this long road with you to the end.”

Yue’er’s cheeks flushed faintly. Whatever thoughts ran behind those eyes stayed hidden.

The two murmured sweet nothings—until Kong Wen’s low exclamation cut through.

“It’s here.”

A three-foot-square woven mat floated above the central platform. Impossible material—front and back covered in symmetrical esoteric symbols, every inch crawling with dense Dharma patterns. Eyes, fangs, vein-lines, qi-traceries… Qi Xiu stared too long; his mind began to sink inward. Mind Enlightenment snapped on instinctively. He yanked himself free.

“Hidden Sorrow Pattern! Legacy of Hidden Sorrow Venerable! Second-tier supreme-grade! One of a kind!”

Not a combat tool—an aid to cultivation. The auctioneer skipped the usual power display.

“Starting bid—fifty third-tier stones!”

The low floor price caught Qi Xiu and Kong Wen off guard. Then the raises poured in from other boxes.

“Eighty!”

“Eighty-one!”

“Eighty-two!”

“Ninety!”

Price rocketed. Qi Xiu’s palms grew slick. One hundred ten. Bidding finally sputtered. He hesitated.

Kong Wen suddenly boomed: “Amitābha—one hundred twenty!”

“Any further bids?”

“Once. Twice. Three times—sold!”

…

They rented a sealed chamber in Linked Waters City.

Qi Xiu unrolled the most expensive thing he’d ever owned. A trickle of spiritual power woke it. The pattern shimmered, rose, hovered before him.

Following Six Consciousnesses Scripture Explanation, he sank inward—absorbing the esoteric symbols related to the six roots, six consciousnesses, six dusts. One by one he extracted them, then—in the sea of consciousness—began constructing his own: Qi Xiu Pattern.

Just as Hidden Sorrow Pattern was the unique crystallization of Hidden Sorrow Venerable’s life insight, so Qi Xiu Pattern would be his—his understanding of the Dao, of living, of the six consciousnesses—rendered in esoteric pattern form. The difference: it existed only as visualization, a scaffold for generational borrowing.

He started with foundational patterns. Mind Enlightenment spun at full speed, weaving like mortal brocade. Barely a bean-sized corner formed—

Drip.

A fresh drop of spiritual liquid fell into the dantian pool, rippling outward.

Success. The path ahead—bright once more.

Joy and shock jolted him out of meditation. Three full days had passed. Kong Wen had already found lodgings elsewhere to avoid disturbing him.

Night had fallen. Qi Xiu hurried through moonlit streets toward the hot spring where he’d settled Minniang and Yue’er.

This spring cost far more than the one years ago—no piped water in a courtyard. A true mountain spirit-vein spring halfway up the slope, guarded by a higher-grade array. He paced outside the barrier, excitement turning him in tight circles.

The gate finally opened.

Minniang’s voice drifted out. “Look at you grinning like that. The companion artifact actually worked?”

He pulled her close, kissed her fiercely—several times—before answering.

“Spent that much coin. If it didn’t work, my path would’ve been dead in the water.”

They held each other. Memory flickered: years ago, same city, same spring, the night they finally spoke their hearts.

Minniang murmured, “Linked Waters City really is your lucky ground…”

“Yeah…” Qi Xiu sighed. The fabrication method for Moon Shadow Mysterious Ice Sword. The honest confessions. The beginning of everything. “You fell for me right here in Linked Waters City, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely not!”

Minniang spun away in mock indignation. Qi Xiu lunged, caught her, hoisted her laughing into his arms. At the spring’s edge he tossed her in—water exploding upward.

Afterward they floated together, spent and content, watching moonlight glaze the distant lake into silver.

“I’m thirty-five now…” Minniang said quietly.

Youth fades fast. Beauty dims. You’ll have two centuries. When I’m old…you’ll still be in your prime…”

Qi Xiu turned. Black hair clung wet to her flawless face. At the corners of her eyes—faint crow’s feet, almost invisible. His chest tightened with something too tangled to name.

“Life has limits,” he said softly. “My heart for you doesn’t.”

A tear slipped free. Minniang turned her face away.

“I don’t want you to see me when I’m old.”

Qi Xiu tried to lighten it. “What—so you’re planning to remarry?”

“Jerk!” She laughed through tears, rolled her eyes, climbed out, and padded toward Yue’er’s room.

“Leaving me to sleep alone again…” he muttered.

Foundation Establishment meant he barely needed sleep anymore—meditation sufficed. He swam a slow lap, gathered Minniang’s scattered clothes from the water, returned to the bedroom, sat cross-legged.

The door creaked.

Two figures stood silhouetted in moonlight—Minniang gently pushing Yue’er forward. Both wore only gossamer veils that hid almost nothing. Mother and daughter approached, bodies warm and flushed, almost like sisters.

The untouched fragrance of a virgin flooded Qi Xiu’s senses. Every pretense of restraint evaporated.

He reached for Minniang’s hand—still seated—looked up at Yue’er.

“Are you sure?”

Yue’er’s voice trembled. “Yes… I want to stay with Mother forever…and with…you…always.”

“Good girl…” Minniang gave Qi Xiu a pleading glance, slipped the veil from Yue’er’s shoulders, guided her into his arms. “Call him Husband.”

“Husband…”