Chapter 30
Chapter 30: The Ling Zhen Sect’s Past
Zhao Chun’s injuries were only superficial. After a short rest, she was fine.
Tu Cun Chan, however, was grievously wounded. His limbs were damaged beyond repair, his cultivation had plummeted, and he’d already been nearing the end of his lifespan. Now he looked gaunt and hollow-cheeked, like a man with little time left.
He knew his own condition. His lips trembled as he said, “Fellow Daoist Zhao… I have an impertinent request…”
Zhao Chun helped him sit up. “Family Head Tu, please speak.”
“Family shame should not be aired, but at this point I have nothing left to fear…” Sweat sheened his face; only his mouth moved. “When my father handed the Tu Family to me, my cultivation was lacking—only the second level of the Qi Refining Stage. I couldn’t suppress the unrest below. Those with crooked hearts split the clan, and the Tu Family’s strength was gutted…”
He drew a thin breath. “Do you still remember the youth beside Cong Wen when you first arrived?”
Zhao Chun nodded. He had seemed steadier than Tu Cong Wen, so she remembered him more clearly. “Tu Mian?”
“Exactly. And you likely think he’s better than Cong Wen, don’t you?”
Tu Cun Chan’s remaining hand clenched until the veins stood out on his forehead. “His grandfather is my own brother. Back then, he took half the family property and left. Now he brings his grandson back to swallow the main house whole—what kind of logic is that?”
Brothers turning on each other?
Zhao Chun’s brows drew together. This was not something she wanted to involve herself in.
But Tu Cun Chan pressed on, his voice rough with suppressed fury. “If he truly wished to revive the clan, I could even yield the position of family head. Yet his heart is with outsiders. He’s set his sights on the main sect…”
Zhao Chun’s eyes widened. “He intends to betray the main sect?”
For a vassal clan to betray its sect was among the most despised crimes in the Heng Yun world—no different from a disciple betraying their own sect.
“I only suspected it, and I didn’t dare believe it,” Tu Cun Chan said hoarsely. “But today’s black cicada reminded me of something.”
Zhao Chun frowned. “That creature’s origin was unclear. Family Head Tu, have you heard of it before?”
“As far as I know, there’s something similar,” Tu Cun Chan said heavily. “The Golden Cicada Shedding Its Shell Gu—one of the Ren Yang Sect’s insect-gu secret arts.”
“The Golden Cicada Shedding Its Shell Gu?”
“They say the gu is planted as a black cicada within the host, greatly boosting the host’s strength. If the host dies, it drains the body’s flesh and blood dry, transforms into a golden cicada, and takes revenge for the host.”
This time, however, no golden cicada appeared. When the gu burst free, it had remained pitch-black. Seeing Zhao Chun’s frown still unbroken, Tu Cun Chan let out a helpless breath. “It’s a secret art from another sect. I truly don’t know the specifics.
“But you must understand what the Ren Yang Sect represents, Fellow Daoist.”
Zhao Chun listened without blinking.
“Back then, when Patriarch Wei Ye founded the sect, ten thousand sects came to offer congratulations. It was magnificent. Profound Division Stage Daoists sat side by side. Essence Condensation Stage great cultivators moved through the banquet. My Tu Family was once glorious as well. There was a time when our household held two Essence Condensation Stage cultivators at once—such was the scene!”
His eyes burned with distant, bitter light. “And who did not know the Ling Zhen Sect of Song Mountain? Twelve Profound Division Stage Daoists—the foremost among the sects of the Southern Domain!
“Yet even a great sect like that, after its great cultivators were taken one after another to the Upper World, was exploited by the Ren Yang Sect. The Ling Zhen Sect fled in humiliation and relocated to the Secluded Valley…”
The Ling Zhen Sect of the Secluded Valley already felt like an unreachable colossus to Zhao Chun. What must it have been like, when it stood at the head of all the Southern Domain?
Even such strength could wither overnight…
“Think on it,” Tu Cun Chan said. “At the clan assembly, they urged the clansmen to move to the Secluded Valley. They must have wanted to probe the main sect for news.”
Zhao Chun understood how grave this was. “When I return to the sect, I will report this to the Sect Master and the elders.”
“The Ren Yang Sect won’t only target my Tu Family,” Tu Cun Chan murmured. “If the main sect grows wary because of this, then the Tu Family will have rendered a great service…” The long speech left him visibly weaker; color drained from his face. Zhao Chun hurriedly fed him a pill to restore his qi and blood.
Soon, people from the Tu Family arrived. Seeing Tu Cun Chan’s condition, they were horrified. Knowing this was no time for questions, they first sent both of them back to the residence.
After Tu Cun Chan recounted what had happened, his eldest son, Tu Xin, still shuddered with fear. His gaze fixed on his father’s empty left sleeve. “Father… you…”
“At least I lived,” Tu Cun Chan said calmly. “One arm is nothing.”
He had lived long enough to set life and death aside. What he could not set aside were the children and grandchildren before him.
He swept his gaze across the room, taking in every face. With his arm severed and his cultivation ruined, they all looked stricken, as though they stood at a funeral.
Ever since his own father had entrusted the clan to him, he had supported the younger generation and cared for the townsfolk. He had never dared slacken.
But heaven did not grant his hopes. Among his descendants were none fit to shoulder great responsibility.
Only his great-grandson, Tu Cong Wen, stood among them with some measure of composure.
Too young, though. His cultivation could not yet shelter the family. Tu Cun Chan shook his head and sighed. “Cong Wen, come here. Stand by your great-grandfather.”
Then he turned. “And you as well, Fellow Daoist Zhao.”
Tu Xin jolted as he understood what was coming. “Family Head!”
Tu Cong Wen caught his arm and lowered his voice. “Whatever the family head does, he has his reasons.”
Tu Cun Chan gripped his teacup with his remaining right hand, grief etched deep into his features. “When the Tu Clan of Song Mountain flourished, an Essence Condensation Stage great cultivator sat in our halls. But after the main sect relocated, we declined year by year. The previous family head was still in the late Qi Refining Stage—yet I stopped at the fourth level…”
He swallowed, his expression heavy. “Now my years are nearly spent, and my cultivation is badly damaged. Cong Wen has not yet grown. I fear the Zuo Tu matter of old will rise again. Therefore, I ask the main sect’s Fellow Daoist Zhao to serve as the Tu Family’s guest elder, so that Cong Wen may take the position of family head without hindrance!”
“Family Head!”
“Family Head Tu!”
Voices rose from both sides. Leaving aside what the clan thought, Zhao Chun herself did not wish to take on the burden of an entire family lightly.
Tu Cun Chan’s voice turned hoarse with urgency. “I know the Tu Family is declining, and I will not allow it to become a burden to you, Fellow Daoist. Once Cong Wen takes over, beyond the fifty percent of our annual income that is offered to the main sect, we will grant you an additional thirty percent.
“I swear on behalf of the Tu Family that we will not meddle in your affairs or follow your footsteps. We ask only that, if the clan faces ruin, you will extend a hand.”
Zhao Chun’s expression barely shifted—only her lashes flickered. What truly moved her was that extra thirty percent.
Money stirred the heart. Even she was no exception.
“Very well,” Zhao Chun said at last. “I will accept, Family Head Tu.”
Tu Cun Chan was no fool. He had seen Zhao Chun’s potential and meant to invest early. Each of them gained what they wanted; only the muddleheaded juniors of the Tu Family were left resentful.
“Tomorrow we convene the clan assembly,” Tu Cun Chan said, his voice hard as iron. “Go and prepare!”
With a wave, he dismissed the clansmen with their private calculations. When the room finally quieted, he turned to Zhao Chun and asked softly, “Have you sharpened your sword, Fellow Daoist?”
He was reminding her: tomorrow would not be easy.