The gray-robed elder watched as Clan Leader Liu departed and remarked with a chuckle, “Old Fang, that second son of the Qin family returned and immediately demonstrated his prowess by eliminating that old demon, Chu Yong. Quite impressive.”


    “As expected of someone who spent three years cultivating at the northern frontier,” said Fang Tongling, the blue-robed commander, his tone uncharacteristically cautious. “According to the imperial dossier, he has slain 261 demons, including three of innate-level strength.”


    “He likely had assistance from other cultivators,” the gray-robed elder said with a smile. “After all, he’s only recently opened his immortal gate. Facing an innate-level demon one-on-one might still be beyond him.”


    Fang Tongling shook his head. “I’ve been to the northern frontier. It’s the bloodiest battleground between humanity and the demons. Cultivators rarely survive long in such harsh conditions, but he lasted three years and killed so many demons. Frankly, I’m not confident I could defeat him in a direct confrontation.”


    “What?” The gray-robed elder was taken aback. “Old Fang, you’ve reached the Innate Pseudo-Core stage!”


    “And so?” Fang Tongling replied with a wry smile. “For cultivators, the cultivation method matters greatly. Those who train in the sacred grounds of Daoism or Buddhism receive the very best inheritances. Even a mere junior at the tenth or eleventh stage of Qi Refinement from such a place could easily suppress senior practitioners like us from smaller sects.”


    “Top-tier inheritances provide incredibly strong foundations. Opening the immortal gate is extremely difficult, but once achieved, the resulting true essence is exceptionally pure. Take us, for instance—we’ve reached the Innate Pseudo-Core stage, but the purity of our true essence might only match that of a junior at the tenth stage of Qi Refinement from one of those sacred grounds.”


    The gray-robed elder nodded. “I understand disciples from Daoist or Buddhist sacred grounds are extraordinary, but is the second son of the Qin family truly at that level?”


    “At thirteen, he reached the ninth stage of Qi Refinement but didn’t join any nearby sects. Instead, he left home to travel the world, clearly aiming for greater ambitions,” Fang Tongling explained. “If he managed to survive three years at the northern frontier, even if he hasn’t joined one of Daoism’s three great sacred grounds, he’s likely part of another top-tier sect. And he’s no novice—he’s a veteran of countless battles, having slain over 200 demons on the battlefield.”


    “Anyone facing such an opponent would tread carefully,” Fang Tongling concluded with a sigh.


    The gray-robed elder nodded thoughtfully before smiling. “Then I have even more reason to ask for his assistance. With my niece and the second son of the Qin family involved, success seems assured.”


    “Lord Governor,” Fang Tongling said with a serious tone, “allow me to remind you: whether it’s Daoism’s three great sacred grounds or other top-tier sects, they treasure their disciples immensely. Cultivators with the talent and determination to open the immortal gate before the age of twenty are rare, even among these sacred grounds. The effort and resources invested in them are substantial. If anyone dares harm such a disciple, they may face the wrath of their elders.”


    “I only seek his help, not to oppose him,” the gray-robed elder replied with a laugh.


    Elsewhere, at the Qin residence.


    It was a pleasant spring day, with sunlight filtering through the trees.


    Qin Yun lay on a reclining chair, basking in the warm rays. The sun’s warmth made him feel utterly relaxed.


    “Second Young Master, Second Young Master,” a servant approached, bowing. “A man outside claims to be delivering a letter on behalf of his master, Yu Bai.”


    “Yu Bai? One of Jiangnan’s Four Great Scholars?” Qin Yun thought for a moment. “Let him in.”If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Soon after, a young man nervously stepped forward, holding a letter with both hands. “My master, Yu Bai, has sent this invitation to you, Sir.”


    A servant took the letter and handed it to Qin Yun.


    “Such fine handwriting,” Qin Yun remarked as he opened it. “Yun Tower?”


    He smiled and said, “Tell your master I will attend as scheduled.”


    At Yun Tower.


    Yun Tower was the most famous restaurant in Guangling County, an eight-story structure that was rare for its height. Visitors often came just to enjoy the panoramic view from the top floors. The sixth floor welcomed casual diners, while the seventh floor had six private rooms for smaller parties. However, the eighth floor was reserved as a single luxurious private room, offering a breathtaking view of Guangling County—and at a steep price of dozens of silver taels for a meal.


    Today, Yu Bai, one of Jiangnan’s Four Great Scholars, waited anxiously on the eighth floor.


    “Master, the cultivator has arrived,” said a guard.


    “Where is he?” Yu Bai asked, scanning the area.


    “There,” the guard said, pointing to a figure in the distance.


    Yu Bai squinted and saw a nobleman riding a horse leisurely toward the tower, his figure partially obscured by willow branches.


    “Still quite far. How can you see so clearly?” Yu Bai asked.


    “I’m at the eighth stage of Qi Refinement, so my eyesight is better than most,” the guard replied smugly.


    By the time Qin Yun arrived, Yu Bai had already finished an entire pot of tea. It wasn’t just because Guangling County was vast—Qin Yun’s leisurely pace on horseback had also delayed him.


    When he finally reached the eighth floor, Yu Bai was already waiting at the door.


    “Master Qin,” Yu Bai greeted with a bow.


    Qin Yun smiled casually. “Yu Bai, the great scholar of Guangling’s March scenery! If you’ve come all this way, you should explore more. On my ride here, I saw willows swaying like poetry in motion. Even after all these years, March in Guangling remains my favorite time of year.”


    They entered the private room and took their seats.


    “I must agree. Guangling has beautiful scenery and even more beautiful people,” Yu Bai said with a smile. “Today, Yun Tower has a rare delicacy: a 20-pound silver-whiskered fish from the Lanyang River, caught just this morning. It’s a rare treat that I’ve prepared for you.”


    “A 20-pound silver-whiskered fish? That’s a first for me. I’ve only ever had one that was 12 pounds at most,” Qin Yun said. “Looks like I’m in for a feast.”


    As dish after dish was served, Qin Yun ate heartily, polishing off most of the meal without any sign of being full.


    “Well, that was excellent,” Qin Yun said with a satisfied sigh. Then, glancing at Yu Bai with a knowing smile, he added, “Now that I’m full, it’s time to leave.”


    “Please wait, Master Qin,” Yu Bai said hurriedly.


    “Oh?” Qin Yun leaned back in his chair. “Yu Bai, you must have a reason for inviting me here. What is it?”


    Yu Bai sighed. “I’ve spent forty years living recklessly, but recently, some of my old friends have begun passing away. It’s made me realize how close death is.”


    Qin Yun listened quietly. For ordinary people, life after forty often became fraught with decline. A serious illness could easily claim their lives, and living to seventy was considered exceptional.


    “I have three children. My daughter is already married, and my eldest son has barely managed to pass the imperial exam, though his talent pales compared to mine. My youngest son, only nine years old, is at the fourth stage of Qi Refinement,” Yu Bai explained. “I fear that after my death, neither of them will be able to preserve our family’s legacy. My eldest is hopeless, but I hope to send my youngest to a cultivation sect. Even if he can’t open the immortal gate, reaching the eighth or ninth stage of Qi Refinement would be enough to secure our family’s future.”


    “However, entering a sect is no easy task.”


    Yu Bai looked at Qin Yun pleadingly. “As a cultivator, you must know many others in the same field. Could you help me get my son into a sect?”


    Qin Yun chuckled. “Do you know how many people dream of joining a sect? These cultivation sects are far from welcoming. Most second- or third-tier sects barely have a handful of members. Do you know why?”


    Yu Bai listened attentively.


    “Because we cultivators seek personal freedom and longevity—not to train disciples. Even mundane affairs are bothersome to us, let alone the burden of teaching. Training a disciple takes immense effort, often with no guarantee of success.”


    “Moreover, cultivation requires resources—law, wealth, companions, and a place to practice. While sects may provide techniques, the financial cost is staggering. Even a small sect like the Qishan Sect has only three members, including its leader.”


    “To get your son into a sect, you have two options,” Qin Yun continued. “One, your son must possess extraordinary talent, such as reaching the ninth stage of Qi Refinement by age twelve or thirteen. In that case, a sect would accept him without hesitation. Two, you offer 100,000 silver taels. That would likely open some doors.”


    Yu Bai sighed deeply. “I’ve earned my wealth through my reputation, not through business. Even if I sold everything, I’d only have 20,000 or 30,000 taels.”


    Qin Yun shook his head. “


    Then forget about it.”


    “Master Qin, please help me. Name your price, and I’ll do whatever it takes,” Yu Bai pleaded.


    “Everything in life is about fairness,” Qin Yun replied. “You want my help—what can you offer me in return?”