Wang Yu thought it over, feeling too embarrassed to admit he had been reading *Peerless Pill God* or *Concocting Immortal Pills for My Beautiful Master*. Instead, he casually made up a title: *The Precious Mirror of Pure Light*.
And so, the party ascending Mount Tianshan gained another companion—Sun Wenzhu, the outcast disciple of Huichun Valley.
Only then did Sun Wenzhu learn that Wang Yu was the Prince of Zhenxi, and that Li Yunxiu and Qianqian were his two consorts.
Sun Wenzhu looked Wang Yu up and down twice. "I heard the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor has constantly been buying up aged mountain ginseng and all sorts of spirit herbs, yet you show no signs of excessive medicinal consumption."
Wang Yu asked curiously, "You can tell even that?"
Sun Wenzhu replied flatly, "Observation, auscultation, interrogation, and palpation—these are merely the basics of medicine."
Wang Yu took a deep breath. *Look at you, hogging all the chances to act profound!*
"Then why don't you guess who ate all those spirit herbs bought by the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor?" Wang Yu teased.
"I do not know." Sun Wenzhu shook his head. "Common mountain ginseng and flesh lingzhi do not count as true spirit herbs; they cannot be refined into superior pills."
Pausing, a look of realization dawned on Sun Wenzhu. "You squandered years in the capital, so you wish to use medicine to rapidly boost your cultivation."
Wang Yu's eyes lit up. "So can you refine superior pills?"
Sun Wenzhu gave an evasive answer. "Those herbs of mine are meant for another purpose."
Wang Yu rubbed his hands together. "Everything is open to discussion! Perhaps without using those spirit herbs, I could help resolve your problem. Then you could refine those herbs into pills—give me some to eat, and keep some for yourself."
Fang Shaobai, who had been listening from the side for quite a while, could not help advising, "Brother Zhao, your comprehension of martial arts is already profound, so you must exercise caution with medicine. If too much pill poison accumulates, it will be exceedingly difficult to purge once you reach the bottleneck of the Xiantian realm."
Walking beside Fang Shaobai, Liu Wuchen raised an eyebrow at those words and gave Wang Yu a deep, searching look.
Sun Wenzhu, whose expression had remained completely impassive, was finally amused by Wang Yu. "You are quite frank, Your Highness."
"Because there is no need for me to lie," Wang Yu said solemnly.
Li Yunxiu and Qianqian beside him both burst into soft, knowing laughter.
Sun Wenzhu shook his head. "If you can procure the spirit herbs, I can refine pills for you."
With those words, he had politely declined.
Wang Yu did not mind in the slightest. While his tortoise shell indeed required spirit herbs and elixir pills, he would never resort to unscrupulous means just for that.
The old ginseng and lingzhi from the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor had all been purchased honestly; the Lesser Restoration Pill was a gift from Li Yunxiu; the Tendon-Changing Bone-Forging Pill and the first Snow Lotus Jade Marrow Pill were spoils of war; as for the second Snow Lotus Jade Marrow Pill—
He and the Great Vajra Monastery were enemies; taking their goods was practically a public service!
Back then, he had paid attention to Sun Wenzhu and his nine-leaf purple perilla only because Xu Hao said Sun Wenzhu was a Huichun Valley outcast who had stolen the herb and vanished without a trace.
Moreover, after ingesting that second Snow Lotus Jade Marrow Pill, he had already reached the level of a first-rate expert. Even the disciples painstakingly trained by Tiancan and Dique were no match for him, so his need to raise his cultivation was not particularly urgent at the moment.
Besides, with Mount Tianshan in sight, who was to say he might not manage to obtain a Tianshan snow lotus of his own?
By this point, Mount Tianshan was not far off. The group rode steadily onward, soon arriving at a small town situated at the mountain's foot. Looking up, one could see Lingxiao Peak, the primary summit of the Eastern Tianshan range.
The Tianshan Sect naturally was not situated upon Lingxiao Peak itself, but rather on Woxian Terrace, a short distance before it. Every day when the morning sun rose, the shadow of Woxian Terrace was cast onto Lingxiao Peak behind it, resembling an immortal lying in drunken repose—hence its name.
This market town at the foot of Mount Tianshan essentially existed to serve the disciples of the Tianshan Sect and passing travelers. Almost everyone who came seeking instruction, requesting medicine, paying respects to the mountain, or harvesting snow lotuses had to pass through here.
"Did the Tianshan Sect not station people in this town to welcome guests?" Wang Yu asked.
Fang Shaobai chuckled. "Do you think every faction possesses the manpower of your Prince of Zhenxi's Manor? The entire Tianshan Sect probably has only a few dozen members, and all of them are up on the mountain practicing their martial arts. It's already good enough that they've stationed a few outer disciples in the town to gather intelligence."
So-called outer disciples were those whose aptitude fell short of entering the inner sect; they were merely taught a few rudimentary internal and external techniques so that they could handle errands for the sect.
None of the major sects in the jianghu lacked such outer disciples. Yet while called disciples, in truth they were much like the servants and attendants of the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor, existing merely to maintain the sect's name in the secular world. Most possessed no real martial attainment and barely qualified to roam the jianghu.
Furthermore, the major sects had limited resources, and gifted disciples were scarce. Even a renowned sect among the Seven Great Sword Sects had no more than fifty to seventy disciples per generation. Even fewer achieved sufficient prowess to wander the jianghu, with only three to five making a renowned name for themselves in any given generation. If twenty could survive past sixty to become senior elders, that was already considered a resounding success.
The Tianshan Sect was situated far away in the Western Regions, and their recruitment was said to be extraordinarily strict. Far from having a hundred people, it was questionable whether the entire sect even numbered fifty.
This was one of the reasons the imperial court never worried about martial arts sects. While they possessed high-end combat power, their numbers were simply too few to pose any real threat to political rule.
Moreover, once a martial artist reached an advanced realm, their desire to explore the mysteries of the human body only grew stronger while their lust for secular power diminished accordingly, making them even less of a threat to the court.
Naturally, this applied only to ordinary martial sects, excluding Buddhist and Daoist traditions, prominent aristocratic clans, and the Demonic Cult.
The group entered the small town, intending to stay the night and ascend the mountain early the following morning.
Just then, an arrogant laugh rang out: "The old hag took a palm strike from my master. The White Bone palm force has already seeped into her organs and marrow, leaving her barely able to walk. However formidable the Tianshan Sect may be, they aren't deities; they cannot save your master!
"If you want to save her, obediently marry me! Only if my master personally intervenes to harmonize her true qi can she be saved. Otherwise, even the Lord of Heaven couldn't help her, and within a few days, you can collect your master's corpse!"
"Bah! My master won't die! The Tianshan Sect will definitely save her!" a voice as clear and bright as a lark retorted. Though dripping with anger, to any listener's ears, it sounded utterly adorable.
Turning the street corner, the group saw two factions facing off against each other.
One side wore white. Seven or eight burly men clad in sheepskin coats stood with sabers drawn before a tavern's entrance. Seated in their midst was an old woman with a head of snow-white hair, dressed in a blue robe with a colorful collar, her brow tinged with sickly pallor.
Beside the old woman stood a radiant young maiden of about sixteen. She had fair skin, a silver-fox fur trim along her collar, and a small, silver-inlaid scimitar hanging at her waist. As she shook her head in refusal, dozens of slender braids fluttered among her hair, making her look all the more charming.
The other side wore black. A dozen or so robust men surrounded the tavern's porch in a semicircle, glaring maliciously at the white-clad men. Leading them was a young man who looked rather handsome, yet the corner of his mouth was curled in a sneer and his eyes gleamed with malice, as if he had practically written *I am a villain* across his face.
Seeing so many people suddenly emerge from the corner of the street, both sides were momentarily startled. The young man in black swept his gaze over Li Yunxiu, Qianqian, and Leng Jiangzhu, his eyes instantly lighting up.
Li Yunxiu and Qianqian were unearthly beauties to begin with, while Leng Jiangzhu was also exceptionally attractive; virtually none of the Meishan Sect's female disciples were plain.
Yet after glancing over the three women, the young man turned his gaze back to the radiant maiden. "Sister Ardai, our two families are of matching status. You're destined to marry me eventually. If not me, whom else could you possibly marry?"
Ardai wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Who has matching status with you! My father already refused your proposal. Go marry that Black Cuckoo of your tribe instead!"
"How could she compare to you?" The young man curled his lip. "She crawled into my bed three years ago, and I've long grown tired of her."
Ardai looked at him in disbelief. "She cared for you so deeply! How—how could you show no gratitude for her affection!"
The young man chuckled lewdly. "Ah, but if it were you, Sister Ardai, I would willingly stay by your side forever."
Ardai glared at him. "Keep dreaming!"
The young man gave a sinister smile. "I'll see whether you still refuse when your master is on her deathbed. Let me warn you: if you wait another month, your master will be terminally ill beyond recovery, and even my master won't be able to save her."
Ardai bit her lower lip, both anxious and furious, and somewhat intimidated. The young man spoke with such absolute conviction that she could not be certain.
The old woman gently took the maiden's hand. "Ardai, don't fret, don't be angry."
"But Master—"
"Rest assured, Sect Leader Ye can cure me. There is nothing under heaven that could baffle Sect Leader Ye," the old woman consoled her.
Seeing the maiden sigh in relief, the old woman murmured, "Besides, your master is already over eighty years old. Even if cured, I won't have many years left to live. You must not let yourself be baited and threatened into sacrificing yourself in a moment of panic."
The maiden wrapped her arms around the old woman's elbow and said joyfully, "Master will live to be a hundred! You still have to help me pick a husband and preside over my wedding!"
A doting expression appeared on the old woman's face, yet deep within her eyes lingered a trace of sorrow.
Though they did not yet know their identities, after listening for a while, Wang Yu's party grasped the general situation.
Leng Jiangzhu's eyes turned frosty, a hint of murderous intent surfacing as she looked at the young man in black, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword.
Right at that moment, a figure rushed toward them from the distance, covering dozens of yards in the blink of an eye. At the same time, a biting chill swept forward, as though an iceberg were crashing into them.
A Xiantian expert!
The next instant, the figure came to an abrupt halt before the tavern entrance. It was a middle-aged man dressed in white robes with a long sword slung across his back and a three-stranded beard under his chin. Sweeping his gaze over the scene, he bowed to the old woman inside the tavern. "Greetings, Senior Yan."
Yan Xiangxue smiled. "Nephew Yang, how have you been?"
Yang Weiming said, "Hearing of Senior's arrival in person, my master was overjoyed. It is only because he is busy preparing for the banquet and our Grandmaster remains in secluded cultivation that he sent me to welcome you. Please forgive our discourtesy!"
Yan Xiangxue chuckled. "Nephew Yang, there is no need for such formalities. This old woman has come seeking help."
Yang Weiming cast a sideways glance at the young man in black. The young man swallowed hard and immediately proclaimed his backing: "My name is Yuan Nahe. The Black Qiang King is my father, and Shi Mo is my master. I have come on my master's orders to celebrate Grandmaster Ye's longevity banquet!"
Yang Weiming's eyelid twitched slightly, but he still nodded. "We thank your master for his kind thoughts. However, on Mount Tianshan's grounds, please sheath your weapons and cease all fighting."
Yuan Nahe waved his hand, signaling his subordinates to put away their blades, and nodded repeatedly. "Naturally, naturally."
In the next moment, Yang Weiming turned toward Wang Yu and the others. "Might you be the chief disciples of the Seven Great Sword Sects arriving to fulfill the Decennial Pact?"
Liu Wuchen stepped forward. "Liu Wuchen of the Bashan Sect greets Senior Yang."
Following that, the other six introduced their names and affiliations one after another.
"Sun Wenzhu greets Senior," Sun Wenzhu said, cupping his fists.
"Zhao Yu, accompanied by my two wives, greets Senior Yang," Wang Yu said with an arched-hand salute and a smile.
Yang Weiming did not recognize Sun Wenzhu, nor did he know the name of the current Prince of Zhenxi. Yet since they had arrived alongside the disciples of the seven sects, they had clearly earned their endorsement. Such occurrences had happened before, so he paid it no special mind.
"Let us ascend the mountain together."
Chapter 74