Shangling noticed Ye Qiu’s uneasy expression and asked with concern, “Master Ye, are you feeling unwell?”
“Just some minor injuries, nothing serious,” Ye Qiu brushed it off with a casual excuse.
He couldn’t exactly say, “Your master seems like an old flirt, right?”
Shangling took it at face value, “Wudang has many healing remedies. I’ll get some for you later, Master Ye.”
“Thank you, Master,” Ye Qiu said politely.
Moments later, a figure emerged from the palace.
An elderly Taoist, likely in his seventies, dressed in a white robe, with white hair and beard, a rosy complexion, and holding a whisk, looking like an immortal sage.
His kind face and refined features suggested he was quite the looker in his youth.
As he moved, an intangible aura of Taoist charm enveloped him, making his depth unreadable.
This is Master Chongxu, the head of Wudang?
Truly extraordinary!
Ye Qiu suddenly understood why Master Longbrow always called Chongxu “Old Bullnose.” It was likely jealousy.
Chongxu outshone Longbrow in appearance, stature, demeanor, and cultivation. As the leader of the Taoist world, revered by thousands, his status was unmatched. How could Longbrow not be envious?
Put yourself in Longbrow’s shoes—both Taoists, yet Chongxu was just better. Why?
“Greetings, Master!” Shangling and Shangzhen bowed as the old Taoist stepped out.
“Ye Qiu of Dragon Gate, greetings, Senior,” Ye Qiu clasped his fists, preparing to bow.
After all, Chongxu was Wudang’s head, a figure of great respect. Ye Qiu’s main goal was to access Wudang’s scripture library to study martial arts manuals and boost his cultivation, so he had a reason to be courteous.
But before he could bow, a gentle force held him up.
“No need for formalities, Master Ye. I’m delighted you’ve come to Wudang,” Chongxu’s voice was like a spring breeze, naturally inspiring warmth.
Ye Qiu looked up, smiling faintly.
Chongxu studied Ye Qiu, then chuckled, “So young, yet already leading Dragon Gate. Truly, new talents rise to lead for centuries. I’m impressed.”
Ye Qiu said humbly, “You’re too kind, Senior. I just got lucky.”
“No need for modesty, Master Ye. With your jade-like grace and restrained aura, you’re destined for greatness. Your leadership is Dragon Gate’s fortune—and the nation’s,” Chongxu said, then added, “Master Ye, Shangzhen mentioned you’ve cultivated innate true qi?”
“Yes,” Ye Qiu didn’t hide it.
During the farewell to the Ninth Prince in Miaojiang, when Forbidden City agents caused trouble, Ye Qiu had displayed his innate true qi in combat, with Shangling present as a witness.
Chongxu said, “I’ve never seen innate true qi. Could you show me, Master Ye?”
“Sure,” Ye Qiu agreed, channeling his qi.
Roar, roar, roar—
Three earth-shaking dragon roars echoed, followed by three radiant golden beams of innate true qi manifesting behind Ye Qiu’s head, making him look like a divine being.
Everyone present gazed curiously at the three streams of true qi behind Ye Qiu.
Like true dragons, utterly mystical.
After a while, Chongxu exclaimed, “For centuries, those who cultivate innate true qi are martial arts prodigies. Your talent, Master Ye, truly makes me envious.”
Ye Qiu retracted his qi, smiling, “You’re too generous, Senior. Years ago, you were second on the Dragon List. If I’m not mistaken, your skills now could rank in the top five of the God List, right?”
From the moment he saw Chongxu, Ye Qiu had been gauging the Wudang head’s cultivation but was shocked to find he couldn’t read it.
Normally, anyone below six streams of true qi couldn’t hide from Ye Qiu’s perception.
This meant only one thing: Chongxu’s cultivation was unfathomably deep.
How many streams of true qi has this old Taoist cultivated? Ye Qiu wondered.
Chongxu smiled, sidestepping the question, his gaze shifting to Xiao Yiren.
After a glance, he said, “Radiant and refined, like a lotus emerging from water. Master Ye, you’re a lucky man!”
Xiao Yiren’s face flushed instantly.
Ye Qiu didn’t clarify, instead cutting to his purpose, “Senior, last time in Miaojiang, Master Shangling said you’d allow me three days in Wudang’s scripture library. Is that true?”
“Absolutely,” Chongxu smiled. “But the library hasn’t been opened to outsiders for sixty years. For you, I have a condition.”
Ye Qiu had expected this. Getting into the library so easily would be too good to be true.
Master Longbrow had mentioned that even Old Tang was denied access, yet now it was open to Ye Qiu for three days—something was off.
“What’s the condition?” Ye Qiu asked.
Chongxu said, “I’d like you to do something for me—no, for Wudang.”
Ye Qiu grew serious, “Please, tell me.”
Chongxu said, “Before I explain, I ask that you agree first.”
Ye Qiu’s guard went up.
Is this old Taoist setting a trap?
If he agreed now and Chongxu asked him to do something extreme, like suicide, what then?
Ye Qiu frowned, “Senior, please just tell me. I’m worried I might not be up to the task.”
Chongxu laughed, “Rest assured, Master Ye. It won’t violate martial world ethics or endanger your life. And I believe you can handle it.”
“You’re sure?” Ye Qiu was still skeptical.
Chongxu said, “As head of Wudang, my word is my bond.”
Ye Qiu thought it over. His goal was the library. If Chongxu’s request proved impossible, he could always back out later.
“Since you put it that way, Senior, I agree,” Ye Qiu said. “Now, can you tell me what you need me to do?”
“No rush. Let’s head to the scripture library first,” Chongxu said, then flashed down the cliff to the ground.
Ye Qiu, holding Xiao Yiren, followed closely.
Shangling and Shangzhen trailed behind.
Chongxu led the way, and soon they arrived at a palace.
