Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 33: The Grind Never Ends

Sitting in a loose circle with his disciples, Qi Xiu felt an unexpected warmth settle in his chest—like a real family gathered around the hearth. Old Sect Leader Qin must have felt the same way, looking at him all those years ago.

He hadn’t slept in over a day since leaving Qi Nan City, but Qi Xiu still chose to distribute everything the moment he arrived.

First came the crates of array equipment, hauled out of the Ten Directions Storage Pouch and dumped in front of Zhang Shishi. “Get it deployed as fast as humanly possible. It’s only first-tier, but leagues stronger than the Yellow Sand Illusion. Covering this much ground with our manpower is going to be brutal—just learning how all the pieces fit will take weeks. Slow and steady.”

The Construction Giant talismans, books, and random sundries went to Zhan Yuan. “Catalog everything. Store it properly.”

Housing plans could start tomorrow. Blackriver Peak’s stone was too hard to quarry in bulk; future homes would be rammed earth with timber framing. Pretty? Ideally. But the summoned giants only lasted hours at a time. Sturdy and livable came first; aesthetics could wait.

Then the bonded gifts.

He pressed the Flowing Bodhi Prayer Beads into He Yu’s palms himself, adding a few soft words to soothe the sting of the denied promotion. The boy’s eyes shone—gratitude mixed with fierce resolve—told Qi Xiu the gesture landed exactly where it needed to.

Finally, the Breeze Robes.

Twenty-seven drab gray robes hit the floor in a heap. Mid-grade first-tier. Most of these kids had never touched anything above low-grade trash. They pounced like starving wolves, stroking the fabric, flipping them inside out, grinning ear to ear. If Qi Xiu hadn’t been sitting ramrod straight at the head of the room, Gu Ji would already be wearing his like a triumphant flag. Seventeen spares went straight to the treasury for future recruits or replacements.

One small buzzkill remained.

“Great robes, but they’re branded with some dead clan’s crest. Wear them around the peak all you like, but outside or when receiving guests, switch back to crimson. We still have face to keep.”

“Yes, Sect Leader!” they chorused, not sounding remotely upset.

Last of all, Qi Xiu produced two third-tier spirit stones.

One to Zhang Shishi: “Daily cultivation expenses, array materials—whatever the sect needs short-term comes out of this.”

One to Zhan Yuan: “General operations, array upkeep, housing supplies, whatever. Also start tracking every hour disciples spend on sect duties and pay them a small stipend. Keep their pockets from drying up completely. And yes, building materials too—same stone.”

He fixed both with a stare sharp enough to cut jade. “Spend freely, but the ledgers had better be spotless. I’ll audit regularly. Play favorites or skim and I’ll skin you myself.”

“Understood, Sect Leader!”

“Sect Leader can rest easy.”

Qi Xiu opened his mouth to say more—he actually enjoyed the rare chance to lecture like a proper sect leader—but the world tilted. Spiritual power stuttered in his channels; his vision swam. Warning bells from an overtaxed body. Any more and he’d injure his foundation.

He waved a tired hand. “Dismissed. Go play with your new toys.”

“Wooo!”

Gu Ji whooped, vaulted upright, and yanked the gray robe over his head in one motion. The cloth resized instantly. Paired with his skinny frame and manic bouncing, he looked exactly like a hyperactive mountain gibbon. Laughter exploded across the hall.

Qi Xiu shook his head, chuckling despite himself. That kid was getting weirder by the day—and somehow the sect felt livelier for it. He handed the golden-eyed monkey to Zhan Yuan for caretaking, then dragged his exhausted body to his room.

Door shut, another burst of hilarity leaked through the walls—even Zhang Shishi’s normally wooden laugh rang out. Good. Expensive gifts, happy disciples, morale through the roof.

Two hours of sleep a night in Qi Nan City, plus today’s marathon flight—he was dead on his feet. The moment his head hit the pillow, the world went black.

Several days of proper rest later, the peak buzzed like an anthill. Disciples scurried everywhere—array teams, construction prep, scouting. Even He Yu, who usually treated cultivation like breathing, was running around helping Zhang Shishi site array nodes. Zhan Yuan came and went constantly, procuring supplies.

Qi Xiu, suddenly the only idle person on the mountain, didn’t linger. After a round of instructions he summoned his spirit boat and shot east.

“Can solving the income problem really let us take root here for good?”

His rational mind answered instantly: No.

For a cultivation sect to truly put down real roots, four pillars mattered.

Safety—first and foremost. Chu Qin Sect had cheated on this one: borrowing Southern Chu Sect’s Nascent Soul tiger skin as a banner. Two months in, it worked beautifully. Anyone with half a background thought twice before poking the “backed-by-Nascent-Soul” sign. Once the Vast Moral Golden Light array went live, even random Qi Refining trash wouldn’t be able to wander in. Safe enough.

Survival—money. Sitting on wealth and watching it vanish was suicide. Arrays guzzled stones, disciples ate food and pills, favors cost gifts. Normal sects lived off spirit fields, alchemy, crafting, or market taxes. Chu Qin could do none of those yet. Hence the upcoming pilgrimage to Zhao Liangde.

Growth. No shortcut—pure cultivation. He Yu was their only real hope for Foundation Establishment, the future pillar. Keeping a genius that diligent and that talented… Qi Xiu got a headache just thinking about it.

Continuity. A sect died without fresh blood. Blackriver currently had zero livable zones for mortals, zero arable land. If Qin Ji’s migrants arrived at year’s end with nowhere to settle, the sect had no future disciples. Under Great Zhou’s academy laws, recruitment was restricted to one’s own territory. No mortals → no new outer disciples → when the current batch died of old age, Chu Qin Sect would simply cease to exist.

“Once this wave of chaos settles, finding mortal settlements shoots to the top of the list. Back in my little room I meditated until mold grew on my robes. Ever since taking that damn sect leader token from Qin Siyan, I haven’t had a idle day. Fate, I guess.”

The Blackriver was long north-south but razor-thin east-west. Barely half a day’s flight and the eastern bank bloomed into the familiar towering jungle of Imperial Beast Sect territory—emerald canopy rolling to every horizon.

Qi Xiu pulled out the short firework tube Wang Wan had given him, touched flame to fuse, and angled it skyward.

BOOM.

A riot of colored sparks blossomed high above the treetops—Zhao Liangde’s agreed-upon signal.

Now we wait.