It was deathly still in the main hall. Aside from the five experts seated at the center, eight more figures lined the sides—Elders and Internal Affairs Emissaries of the Crimson Whale Sect. None of them spoke; the air was thick with a silent battle of gazes.
The flash that had earlier burst from Lu Sheng’s eyes made one thing clear: he, too, cultivated both inner and outer forces. Whether he had reached the level of Spirit Focus remained uncertain, but even an Intent Proficiency expert was not someone to offend lightly. More importantly, no one had any reason to provoke him.
“Since there are no objections, then it’s settled. Brother Lu Sheng will be appointed the Sixth External Affairs Emissary of the Crimson Whale Sect, taking over the men and territory previously under Wu San. Everyone agrees, yes?” Sect Master Hong Mingzi said with a warm smile.
“That’s not very appropriate, is it?” Deputy Sect Master Gongsun Zhanglan muttered, his brows knitting together.
“What’s not appropriate about that?” Chen Ying asked sharply. He knew full well Gongsun Zhanglan intended for his own niece, Gongsun Jing, to inherit Wu San’s position. His dissent came as no surprise.
Gongsun Zhanglan, a gloomy-looking middle-aged man dressed in stark black robes, kept his hands tucked inside his sleeves. His smile was polite but empty.
“Brother Lu Sheng’s strength is undeniable,” he said, “but strength alone isn’t enough for management. Wu San left behind a great many men and assets. How will the elders feel if all of that is handed over—on a silver platter—to a newcomer who has yet to contribute anything? That’s hardly standard practice.”
Chen Ying snorted.
“We all know how Wu San died. Everyone wants his men and assets, yet no one dares take on the danger that comes with them. There’s no free lunch in this world—you can’t want the rewards without the risks. Sect Master Gongsun, your niece may be brilliant, one of the brightest we have, but if she wants Wu San’s position, why not let her handle the same case as well?”
Gongsun Zhanglan’s tone remained calm. “I never said anything about Little Jing. I’m speaking for the elders who have served the sect tirelessly. Are you saying they’re inferior to someone who just joined us?”
Chen Ying laughed coldly.
“Then what exactly do you mean? Even if that wasn’t your intention, jumping out now makes it look that way.”
“I don’t care how others interpret it,” Gongsun Zhanglan replied, composed and firm. “As the Deputy Sect Master overseeing law and order, it is my duty to point out anything that violates the rules.”
Their argument went back and forth, neither backing down. Watching from the side, Lu Sheng felt his patience wearing thin.
“What’s there to quarrel about? If anyone’s not convinced, just duel with me.” He clicked his tongue, rose to his feet, and let his gaze sweep over the strongest figures present.
“We’re pugilists in the pugilistic world. Whoever’s fist is stronger has the right to speak!” Lu Sheng rolled his shoulders and began warming up his fists.
Gongsun Zhanglan froze for a moment. Those eyes staring back at him—cold, unblinking—sent a faint chill down his spine. He quickly forced himself to regain composure.
“We’re all brothers of the same sect. How can we simply start killing each other? If word of this spreads…”
“This is just an internal exchange. Come, no need for courtesy. I’m standing right here—whoever’s not convinced, let’s trade a few moves.” Lu Sheng could feel his blood surging, running wild through his veins.
Recently, he had acquired a taste for battle. The fight to the death with the ghost on the pleasure boat had awakened a fierce sense of aliveness within him. That moment had sent his Qi and blood roaring, his spirit soaring. The intoxicating brush with death had left him half-entranced ever since.
“Brother Lu, you may have misunderstood. I’m not against you taking over Wu San’s responsibilities…” Gongsun Zhanglan’s face twitched.
“No problem. Come on, just one match.” Lu Sheng’s gaze locked onto him, eyes bright with expectation. He was certain this man would put up a decent fight.
“Brother Lu, you really are—”
“Come on, come on, just one match.”
The veins on Gongsun Zhanglan’s forehead throbbed. He cleared his throat, swallowing down the anger boiling inside. With so many eyes watching, he could only restrain himself and answer with veiled hostility.
“Internal fighting violates Sect rules. And there is a great gulf between your cultivation and mine. I practice the Prime Mystic Palm—its force is unmatched. One strike might kill you, or at least cripple you. If I injure you by accident, things will become… troublesome.”
“Hurt me? Kill or cripple me?” Lu Sheng’s pupils darkened, a faint blood-red sheen creeping across them. The corners of his mouth twisted into a warped smile. “Isn’t that perfect? Holding back like some timid child—what kind of fight is that?”
His gaze pinned Gongsun Zhanglan in place.
“Come on, just one match. If I die, I deserve it.”
A thick, suffocating murderous intent seeped from Lu Sheng’s body.
Gongsun Zhanglan stared back, falling silent. This newcomer’s audacity had clearly exceeded his expectations. Lu Sheng behaved as though consequences simply did not exist—brazen, unrestrained, heedless of whom he offended.
“It seems Junior Brother Lu truly wants a match with me…” A faint killing intent flickered in Gongsun Zhanglan’s eyes. He was already considering eliminating this newcomer right here.
But with the old Sect Master and Chen Ying present, he knew striking decisively would be nearly impossible.
“Alright, alright,” the old Sect Master finally interjected, just as expected. With an easy smile, he continued, “Let’s settle this. What Zhanglan said is not without reason. Without contributions to the Sect, handing him full control of Wu San’s assets is indeed improper. So, he will first take over a portion. If he resolves the case, then everything will be transferred to him. Junior Brother Lu, what do you think?”
All gazes immediately turned to Lu Sheng, waiting for his answer.
“I heard there’s trouble in Wu San’s territory. What exactly happened?” With the fight slipping out of reach, the storm of Qi within him gradually calmed. Though disappointed, he wasn’t impatient; with so many experts here, opponents would never be scarce.
“Wu San was the External Affairs Emissary assigned to that region,” Chen Ying explained. “There’s an iron mine there—vital to the Sect. Something happened inside, so he went to investigate. He vanished, and when he was finally found, he was already dead in a forest outside the mine.”
Lu Sheng pondered for a moment, then asked, “What was Wu San’s cultivation like?”
“An Intent Proficiency expert, a hair away from Spirit Focus. His Flying Willow Blade technique is elusive and deadly,” Chen Ying replied gravely. “If he went all out, he’d rank among the top ten fighters in the Sect.”
“Top ten?” Lu Sheng narrowed his eyes. Sweeping them across the gathered experts, he could discern the strength within their gazes. Earlier, he had sensed that six among them were Intent Proficiency cultivators of both inner and outer forces. For Wu San to be among the top ten meant he had stood among the four strongest of that group.
Gongsun Zhanglan’s lips lifted in a faint smile.
“So, how about it? Do you have the confidence to take this up?”
Lu Sheng’s irritation simmered. This man had been opposing him from the very beginning—relentlessly, senselessly. At every turn, Gongsun Zhanglan picked faults, blocked his path, and tried every possible way to keep him from inheriting Wu San’s men, assets, and influence. It was hard not to suspect he had hidden motives.
Lu Sheng, however, had always been bold yet cautious.
Back on the Scarlet Decks, he might have appeared carefree—drinking, feasting, laughing with his companions—but in truth, he never once let his guard down. Even while eating, he waited, watching the other two taste the food first to ensure it wasn’t poisoned before taking a single bite himself.
If he weren’t on guard, he would never have brought his saber. How many men carried a weapon while reveling?
Had he not encountered that eerie pleasure boat, perhaps he wouldn’t have been this wary. But reality had unfolded exactly as he feared.
This time was no different. He wasn’t about to recklessly take on a crisis that had already claimed the life of an Intent Proficiency expert. Instead, he first asked in detail exactly how powerful Third Wu had been.
So when Gongsun Zhanglan pressed him again, he answered without hesitation.
“Whether I have confidence or not—what’s that got to do with you?” Since the man insisted on provoking him, Lu Sheng felt no need to offer courtesy.
Gongsun Zhanglan stiffened, his face instantly souring. But he forced himself calm again, merely shooting Lu Sheng a cold smile and saying nothing further.
Whispers rose throughout the hall. Elders leaned toward one another, speaking in low tones. Though their voices stayed soft, snatches of conversation drifted through.
Ouyang Ningzhi and a middle-aged woman exchanged a brief, hushed discussion. Their brows were tightly knit as they glanced toward Elder Wang.
Elder Wang, one of the Internal Affairs Emissaries, held Lu Sheng in high regard. Now, watching Gongsun Zhanglan deliberately make things difficult for him, Elder Wang’s face flushed red. He opened his mouth to speak several times but was stopped each time by longtime friends at his sides.
“Elder Wang’s ancestral martial art—the Heart-Shattering Palm—was perfected by an outsider using the wrong technique, yet the results were even more frightening. That alone shows how exceptional Lu Sheng’s aptitude is. Elder Wang must have already sent a pigeon letter to summon his elder brother. Gongsun Zhanglan thinks he has support and dares stir trouble, but if Wang Yuanshan comes, things will turn ugly,” Ouyang Ningzhi murmured.
“Wang Yuanshan?” the Daoist woman beside her blurted in shock. “You mean the one they call ‘Nine-Strokes Sword and Palm—Wang Yuanshan’?”
“That’s him. An extraordinary figure indeed… assuming he actually arrives.” Ouyang Ningzhi hesitated. She suspected the other External Affairs Emissaries refrained from offending Lu Sheng largely because of this. Given Elder Wang’s loud mouth, he had likely already spread word of Lu Sheng throughout the upper ranks of the sect.
Meanwhile, in the main hall, Lu Sheng finished asking a series of general questions about Wu San’s case, gaining a rough understanding of the situation’s broader contours.
The situation was, on the surface, simple.
A manor beside the Sect’s most crucial iron mine had run into trouble.
Ordinarily, such a disturbance was nothing worth fussing over. But this particular manor sat directly along the only road leading to the mine. Anyone heading there had to pass through it.
When miners began vanishing on their way to work, the upper echelons of the Sect finally took notice. Investigators were dispatched—yet those who went to probe the matter soon vanished as well.
Only then did the Sect urgently classify the incident as a Black Calamity, placing it under the jurisdiction of the External Affairs Emissaries.
These emissaries, however, did not volunteer out of heroism. They were motivated by the staggering rewards and privileges attached to resolving a Black Calamity. In terms of benefits, even the Sect Master could not compete with what an External Affairs Emissary received. And since the position rotated yearly rather than belonging to any one individual, the high-ranking figures often took turns holding the post.
Wu San had been in the same situation. He had just taken up the role when news of the Black Calamity reached him. Exercising the utmost caution, he personally led a team of five Strength Proficiency experts to investigate.
In the end, Wu San disappeared without a trace. His entire team vanished with him. Their bodies were later found strewn across a small patch of forest near the manor.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.