Inside the Heart Inquest Hall, Zhou Wuji bowed respectfully to the old Daoist Zhiyuan, making a deep, formal prostration.
Zhiyuan was clad in a green Daoist robe and wore a wooden star crown. His attire appeared exceedingly plain, though in his hand he still held his white jade whisk.
"You've returned just in time. Tomorrow we complete the handover, and the day after, I leave."
Old Daoist Zhiyuan was clearly in fine spirits, his weathered face beaming with an easy, relaxed smile.
Zhou Wuji asked in confusion, "Perfected Zhihua came in person to resolve the matter, and the incident didn't even originate with you. How could there be such a severe punishment?"
"It can't really be considered a punishment. I am over seventy; by all rights, it's time I retired."
Zhiyuan took it very lightly. He explained, "The Upper Abbey appointed me as First Seat of Feixuan Hall—the very position Yiping held. It's quite suitable for spending one's twilight years. When you come to the Upper Abbey next year, if you have nowhere else to stay, you can lodge with me."
"Thank you, Abbot." Seeing how steady the old Daoist's emotions were, and that he actually seemed rather fond of retirement, Zhou Wuji thought this outcome was not bad at all.
He thought for a moment, then asked, "Abbot, which one is the newcomer?"
"Zhihe, from the Yuheng lineage."
Zhiyuan knew what Zhou Wuji wanted to ask, and he shook his head slightly. "I've never dealt with Zhihe directly. All I know is that he's in his fifties and possesses a fifth-rank cultivation. Supposedly, he acts affable with people, but his temperament is gloomy and scheming. Don't play your little tricks in front of him. If he holds a grudge against you, this whole year will be miserable..."
Zhou Wuji cupped his fists in gratitude. "Thank you for the guidance, Abbot."
Zhiyuan pondered for a moment and added, "Given his nature, I fear you really won't get a spot to advance your studies at the Upper Abbey. Fortunately, you're at the sixth rank. I'll report your status to the Upper Abbey, and next year you can go straight there to receive your registers. If there's no one else, I can personally transmit the ordination and bestow your registers. A twenty-three-year-old sixth-rank Master of Refinement entering Tianquan Hall to study dharma is only natural and proper."
Zhiyuan regarded Wuji with considerable esteem, and he had already planned out how to send him to the Upper Abbey.
Explaining everything clearly to Zhou Wuji now was simply to prevent him from clashing with the new abbot.
No matter what, Zhihe was the abbot and of a senior generation; there was no need for Wuji to fight him.
Enduring for a year in the branch abbey would be enough. Even if Zhihe disliked Zhou Wuji, he wouldn't truly be able to do anything to him.
Zhiyuan believed Zhou Wuji understood these stakes well.
Zhou Wuji thanked him once more. Grasping and money-minded as old Daoist Zhiyuan was, he had truly taken good care of him.
"I have already reported your merits truthfully. I expect the Celestial Master Mansion will confer some reward," Zhiyuan said with an amiable smile. "Having the dignitaries of the Celestial Master Mansion remember your name will make advancing your rank far easier."
Zhou Wuji thanked the old Daoist again, from the bottom of his heart.
"Zhang Shiheng has already been demoted and transferred, and Peng Yue won't remain much longer either. Tianlong Monastery will certainly discipline Xinjue, but they might not transfer him away. After all, that monk established a firm foothold in Yunyang; he has both merit and capability..."
Zhiyuan had stayed in Yunlong Branch Abbey for decades and knew Yunyang's landscape inside out.
From the aristocratic clans to the various gangs and factions, down to Golden Leaf Temple, he laid out a general overview for Zhou Wuji.
He introduced several key figures in particular.
After all, Zhou Wuji would still be staying in Yunyang Prefecture. Zhiyuan knew Zhou Wuji was daring and ruthless; his fear was that Wuji might act rashly and kill someone he shouldn't, which would cause real trouble.
"I will engrave the Abbot's earnest teachings upon my heart and never dare forget them."
Zhou Wuji bowed deeply with cupped fists, expressing gratitude for the old Daoist's thoughtful counsel.
"You possess both wisdom and courage, and your mind runs deep. You are merely young, and at times you cannot swallow your temper."
Zhiyuan rose and patted Zhou Wuji on the shoulder, speaking with deep earnestness: "When others take a step back, it is because they have no choice but to retreat. When you take a step back, it is for the sake of the greater Grand Dao. We do not fight over temporary spite..."
As he spoke, he chuckled. "Besides, if something happens to you, whom will I collect that ten-thousand-tael IOU from...?"
Zhou Wuji smiled. The old Daoist wasn't joking, which made the comment all the more amusing.
Leaving the Heart Inquest Hall, Zhou Wuji went to see Daoist Yizhen.
Setting aside his relationship with Wuming, Daoist Yizhen was his most important ally in the branch abbey.
Uncle-Master Yiping was closer, but that slacking uncle-master was obviously not suited for fighting side by side.
Daoist Yizhen had also learned that Zhihe was taking over the abbotship, and he felt quite uneasy about it.
This kind of internal sectarian power struggle involved no blades or mortal danger, yet it was far more tedious and vexing.
Seeing Daoist Yizhen's furrowed brow, Zhou Wuji knew Yizhen had no good countermeasure either.
Indeed, Zhihe was an abbot appointed by the Upper Abbey, holding legal authority and legitimate right to govern the branch abbey. Whatever countermeasure they devised would be useless.
The two consulted for a while, in the end settling on four words: play it by ear.
The next day, everyone in the branch abbey assembled at Tianshu Hall.
In front of all present, Zhiyuan handed over the Arctic Token—which represented the abbot—to Zhihe. The Arctic Token was a gold plaque engraved with the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper and Polaris.
Zhihe wore a purple star-patterned Daoist robe and a red bronze Five Dippers Crown. He was of medium build, with fair skin, slender eyebrows, bright eyes, and a long black beard beneath his chin. Gentle in countenance and tranquil in bearing, he looked thoroughly like an accomplished cultivator.
Standing behind Zhihe were Daoist Yiding, Wu'ai, and others, all belonging to the branch abbey's Yuheng lineage.
The Yuheng lineage used the sword to enter the Dao; their methods were easier to pick up, and their combat strength was formidable, giving this lineage immense prominence.
In the branch abbey, the Yuheng lineage was headed by Daoist Yiding, boasting several dozen Qi Ingestion cultivators—a full third of the abbey.
Today, with Zhihe, an alumnus of Yuheng, assuming the abbot's seat, the members of the Yuheng lineage were greatly invigorated, their faces flush with excitement.
As a newcomer, Zhihe immediately commanded an impressive aura with the backing of the Yuheng lineage.
Though the people of the branch abbey harbored their own thoughts, they were all awed by Zhihe's momentum for the moment.
Daoist Yizhen sighed inward. This Zhihe possessed real means; before doing anything at all, he had leveraged the Yuheng lineage's momentum to keep the entire branch abbey in check.
Back at Feixuan Hall, Daoist Yiping grumbled to Zhou Wuji, "I don't think Zhihe is someone easy to deal with. Be sensible and just stay in Feixuan Hall. Don't go running around."
Zhou Wuji nodded. "He is the abbot. With my status, going out of my way to oppose him would just be asking for trouble."
He truly had no interest in vying with Zhihe. His ambition reached for the Nine Heavens; why would he care about a branch abbey?
As for the branch abbey's resources, they were of little use to him anyway.
Zhou Wuji had made up his mind: he would stay in Feixuan Hall to read books, refine pills whenever free, and teach his disciples.
In truth, the most uncomfortable person ought to be Daoist Yizhen. As Hall Master, his status was second only to the abbot.
In a small Daoist temple, the position of Hall Master held little importance. But in a branch abbey, it wielded genuine, substantial authority.
Everything from accepting disciples and transmitting ordination to chanting scriptures, burning incense, and worshipping the deities—all liturgical rites fell under the Hall Master's charge.
Even when Daoists wished to refine magic implements, cultivate spells, or concoct pills, they needed to set up an altar in the main hall to sacrifice to the gods, which was also governed by the Hall Master.
Such extensive authority was something Zhihe could never leave to an outsider. This had nothing to do with being good or bad; whoever became abbot would handle it this way.
Such was the way of things: a new emperor brings a new court.
Early the next morning, Zhou Wuji, Daoist Yizhen, and others saw Zhiyuan off to his boat.
Zhihe did not come, nor did Daoist Yiding and the rest of the Yuheng lineage. Cultivators from lineages like Tianji did not appear either.
Although Zhiyuan had managed the branch abbey decently, he was overly covetous of wealth, and the middle and lower ranks harbored grievances against him.
Now that Zhiyuan was leaving, naturally no one was willing to flatter him.
Zhiyuan was quite open-minded about it, smiling as he bade farewell to Yizhen and Zhou Wuji.
Everything that needed to be said had been said, so the others merely cupped their hands in farewell.
Zhou Wuji had also thought there was nothing left to say, but a question suddenly struck him. He thought it best to ask the old Daoist before he departed.
Stepping close to Zhiyuan, he asked softly, "Disciple has one more question regarding cultivation to ask the Abbot."
Without waiting for Zhiyuan to speak, Zhou Wuji asked, "Among the various methods of our Tianshu lineage, if one could choose only a single art to cultivate, what should one choose?"
Zhiyuan was taken aback; the question caught him somewhat by surprise.
He considered it seriously before answering, "I primarily cultivate the Golden Light Divine Incantation because I am most aligned with it. Every dharma art has its own divine charm; whichever art a cultivator uses most smoothly and comfortably indicates alignment with that art. But if one could choose freely without limitation, I would certainly choose the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Yin Thunder. This technique is our Arctic Sect's supreme art of slaying, and it embodies the core principles of the Northern Emperor's cultivation. It is profound and wondrous to the extreme..."
Looking at Zhou Wuji, Zhiyuan said, "If you possess talent in the Yin Thunder art, devote yourself to bitter cultivation of it. It far surpasses all other arts!"
"I have learned much." Zhou Wuji bowed deeply. The old Daoist was truly a guiding beacon, waking him with a single word.
After seeing Zhiyuan off, Yizhen's expression was somewhat somber. Only Wuming knew no sorrow, glancing furtively at Zhou Wuji from time to time with a contented smile.
Zhiyuan was gone, and the sky had changed over Yunlong Branch Abbey...
Zhou Wuji had thought Zhihe would deal with Daoist Yizhen first, which would allow him to observe the man's methods.
To his surprise, the first ones to fall on hard times were himself and Uncle-Master Yiping.
Zhihe sent someone to summon Daoist Yiping to speak at the Heart Inquest Hall.
When Daoist Yiping returned, his face was full of misery. He sighed deeply to Zhou Wuji, "Our luck is bitter, nephew..."
Zhou Wuji felt a pang of sympathy. This plump old Daoist cared nothing for fine food or daily luxuries and only wished for leisure. To think that in his old age, he would be targeted instead.
He asked, "What is it? How did the Abbot assign us?"
"Hmph..."
Daoist Yiping snapped irritably, "The Abbot said the Myriad Ghosts Cavern requires guard duty on rotation, and he's sending the two of us to watch over it..."
Zhou Wuji could not help but smile. "There's such a good thing?"
Last time during his seventh-rank altar ordination, Zhiyuan had exempted him from training in the Myriad Ghosts Cavern, which had frustrated him for quite a while.
Even if the Heart Inquest Hall had spells capable of monitoring the Myriad Ghosts Cavern, he had nothing to fear.
Guarding the Myriad Ghosts Cavern meant their duty was to clear out the yin spirits and baleful ghosts within, giving him a legitimate pretext to harvest primordial profound qi.
Daoist Yiping grunted repeatedly, "The yin qi in the Myriad Ghosts Cavern is heavy and dense. Visiting occasionally is fine, but living there long-term will damage one's foundation, causing immense harm to cultivation."
"I can refine Golden Yang Pills. A few furnaces of them will be more than enough," Zhou Wuji comforted Daoist Yiping. "As for expelling the yin qi and slaying the vicious ghosts, leave it all to me. You can rest easy. Besides, this is also a precious training opportunity for Shangbing and Shangxing; it will do them a world of good..."
Daoist Yiping was a bit surprised. He knew this martial nephew very well: despite looking as bright and unblemished as the clear wind and bright moon, the lad had a fierce temper; the slightest offense made him want to kill someone.
Yet now, exiled to suffer in the Myriad Ghosts Cavern, he was actually so calm and composed. Truly, what a ghost of a spectacle...
Chapter 118