Sect Leader Is Under Great Pressure CH 110 Fame Spreads For A Thousand Tears, Reputation Carries For Ten Thousand Miles
Kun-Lai cultivators are known for their swift actions, and as soon as they set their target, everyone moves quickly. As the initiator of this "shifting trouble elsewhere" plan, Luo Chi also went along. With a Dao oath and the dual threats of Qingnu, there was no fear of him causing any trouble along the way.
Moreover, Luo Chi had a special ability. Despite the incredible stealth of the three shaman cultivators, Luo Chi, who was only in the Nascent Soul stage, could easily spot them among countless disguises. So, bringing Luo Chi was essential.
Every cultivator who has reached the Synthesis stage is an ancient monster with hundreds or even thousands of years of experience (except for Kun-Lai). While Kun-Lai had over twenty such cultivators, which seemed like a lot, it was only because Kun-Lai itself was a unique anomaly (Luo Chi’s words).
In the Southern Continent, which was teeming with demonic beasts and venomous creatures, where swamps were as common as to appear every three steps, and toxic miasma every five steps, these three Synthesis cultivators made up half of all such cultivators in the region.
If their journey from birth to Synthesis were written into a book, each story would be more outlandishly exaggerated than the popular cultivation novels of the Western Continent. Tales of near-death experiences would appear no fewer than ten times, and fortunate encounters would fill the entire narrative. This was the common path for most non-Kun-Lai cultivators: those who survived were kings. As long as one could survive the many calamities, they would eventually reach Synthesis.
At that stage, calling them the "winners of life" was no exaggeration.
Thus, the most valuable items in the Central Continent were never rare herbs or treasures but life-saving items like external avatars, replacement golden bodies, or the cocoon-shedding technique of the Frost Cicada.
Luo Chi, who inherited the wisdom of both the Taiqing and Jietian Dao sects, easily saw through the techniques of the shaman cultivators. “These three are from the Southern Continent’s Black Wu Sect, a large Wu clan that operates like a tribe. Unfortunately, none of them survived multiple Dao calamities. During the last Great Xuan Dao Calamity, their mountain gate was destroyed, and their sect was scattered. They split into different groups and fled to the small islands of the Southern Sea. It wasn’t until the fall of Great Xuan that they returned to their ancestral lands. But now, the three groups refuse to acknowledge each other, each claiming to be the true successors of the Wu Sect. Recently, they learned that the sect’s lost relic from the Great Xuan Dao Calamity is hidden in the Black Witchlands. Moreover, their captured clan members are also in that place. They agreed that whoever retrieves the ancestral relic will be recognized as the legitimate sect leader, and the three great tribes—Heaven, Earth, and Man—will merge back into the Great Wu Clan.”
The rise and fall of Great Xuan, which had once gathered all the Dao manuals under heaven, only to be completely destroyed, reducing the four major sects to three, with countless minor sects wiped from history, was the most catastrophic Dao calamity on record.
As for how Luo Chi knew this in such detail, there was no need to ask. This information came from an old monster of the Taiqing Sect who had been handsomely paid for a divination, though Luo Chi had been half-asleep during the Dao lecture at the time.
“They all use a form of substitute death incantation in their spiritual technique, so regular killing moves won’t finish them off,” Luo Chi explained, though he wasn’t sure of the exact technique, as it was a mystery of Wu cultivation. “However, before setting off, they used a cruel Wu ritual to sacrifice three cities in the Southern Continent, killing nearly ten thousand people. They harvested the blood and souls to create a towering spiritual artifact, similar to the ‘cicada-shedding’ technique.”
Cicadas shed their shells and emerge anew, so it wasn’t surprising that they’d employ such extensive life-preserving measures.
“Damn them, impossible to kill…” Qingnu smiled briefly, and An Xian patted her sword with satisfaction. Yang Fuyin and the two elders were equally pleased.
Not being able to kill them made capturing them much easier. What was initially a difficult task of capturing them alive suddenly became far more manageable.
Even so, the ambush on the three shaman cultivators didn’t go as smoothly as expected.
Along the way, aside from the first one who was trapped by Yang Fuyin and couldn’t escape, the others kept unleashing incantations repeatedly, almost slipping away several times. If not for Luo Chi’s all-seeing eye guiding them, they would have lost track of them after two or three encounters.
As for the two shaman cultivators, they had cursed Kun-Lai and all its members at least once in their hearts. They never imagined they’d provoke Kun-Lai's elite forces, especially since they had been deliberately avoiding them.
Moreover, they had already used blood escape techniques, cicada shedding, and divine-demon recalls—how were they still being pursued relentlessly?
Finally, as one of them was trapped and engaged in a death struggle, the last shaman cultivator managed to escape.
“Kun-Lai…” This skeletal, corpse-like shaman cultivator had no left eye. In the hollow socket, a black centipede raised its head, wriggling toward the direction of his fallen comrade. The sight was terrifying and gruesome. After glaring with rage, he placed his hand in the empty socket, allowing the black-headed, red-bodied centipede to crawl into his palm. The blood-red centipede looked as if it had been soaked in a sea of blood.
Grinding his teeth, he let the centipede bite into his palm.
The "Flying Centipede to the Heavens" technique was meant to be a life-saving measure against great spirit demons, but now he had no choice but to use it for escape.
He cursed Kun-Lai again through gritted teeth, his voice icy and sinister. “Xing Dao Master Ji Yunlai! Once I return to the Southern Continent, the Man Wu tribe will repay this debt a hundredfold.”
The centipede absorbed his essence, transforming into a cloud of blood mist that enveloped him. In an instant, he turned into a streak of red light, flying toward the south.
***
At Zhuiyun Peak, a master and apprentice sat quietly under the moonlight, sipping tea.
This tea was said to come from a newly discovered premium tea tree in Yuntian Domain that Tea Peak discovered. The Tea Peak disciples hadn’t even had a chance to taste it before Yan Zhao had swooped in and brought it to them, practically begging them to take it.
Feng Qingxiu, being from an affluent family, was skilled at brewing tea. His elegant movements flowed like water, graceful and beautiful. Even Ji Yunlai felt a slight thirst watching him.
The tea, as expected, was delightful. After accepting the cup handed to him with both hands, Ji Yunlai took a small sip and found himself thoroughly satisfied.
He gave his apprentice a rare, unreserved compliment.
Feng Qingxiu's ears turned slightly red as he sipped his tea to hide his reaction.
Suddenly, Ji Yunlai, holding his tea in one hand, stood up casually and walked to the edge of the cliff. With a simple gesture, he summoned a red piece of amber from thin air.
“What is that?” Feng Qingxiu asked curiously. The amber was a faint red, but inside it seemed to contain countless blood vessels, as if blood was flowing through them. At its center, something resembling a heart pulsed rhythmically. It was clearly not a good kind of amber.
“Someone who just called my name,” Ji Yunalai tossed the amber onto the stone table carelessly. “Don’t touch it. It’s dirty.”
Feng Qingxiu obediently heeded his master’s warning. He didn’t really want to touch something that looked so bloody anyway.
“How far can you hear, Master?” Feng Qingxiu handed his master a handkerchief to wipe his hands.
Ji Yunalai was quite pleased with his apprentice's attentiveness and, with some restraint, said, “At the level of a Human Immortal, as long as someone calls my name, I can hear it.”
As he spoke, he enjoyed the look of admiration in his apprentice’s eyes. Feeling proud, he added, “Remember this, Qingxiu. Even for a Human Immortal, if the distance is too great—say, as far as Kun-Lai—it’s not likely one would chase after someone calling their name. They’d just remember it and settle the score later. But if the person is nearby, like this one...”
He pointed to the amber on the table as an example. “If someone is within a thousand miles of my soul fragment and shouts my name, they’re just inviting me to deal with them. Two fingers are enough to catch them. In the future, don’t mention the names of other Human Immortals, or they will sense your location from afar.”
“Don’t worry, Master. I don’t even know the names of any other Human Immortals,” Feng Qingxiu nodded. The name of the Xing Dao Master had only become famous recently. Give it another thousand years, and people would only know him as the Xing Dao Master and forget his real name.
He glanced sympathetically at the amber, thinking that the person inside was probably cornered and desperate when they cursed. Who would have guessed they'd run into his master here?
Everyone knew the Xing Dao Master was always stationed in Kun-Lai and never left.
But daring to call his master’s name out loud? Serves him right!
The two of them waited for a while longer, and soon, Yan Zhao and Qingnu arrived to report on the night's battle. Yan Zhao sharply criticized An Xian for focusing too much on fighting and neglecting the bigger picture, which led to the enemy escaping.
An Xian, however, retorted that Yan Zhao was too cautious. He could have resolved the situation with one decisive strike instead of worrying about every little thing. What’s so bad about causing damage? Didn't he see that Qingnu was there to handle it?
Their argument was cut short by a mere glance from Ji Yunlai.
And thus, the matter was dismissed.
A while later, Luo Chi and Qingnu came over. Luo Chi quietly asked Qingnu to return something of his.
Qingnu glanced at Feng Qingxiu and nonchalantly said, “Senior Brother Feng, have you figured anything out? If not, give it back to him.”
Ji Yunlai glanced at Luo Chi with an amused expression, and with a flick of his fingers, the very item Luo Chi longed for—his talisman stone—floated in front of him.
Luo Chi stood frozen, staring at the god-like figure before him, who held his teacup and looked at him with amusement. A flush spread from his ears to his forehead. After a long moment, he carefully picked up the talisman stone, his voice trembling slightly with embarrassment. “Thank you...”
Feng Qingxiu nodded to Qingnu, signaling her to see him out.
After they had left, Feng Qingxiu finally asked his master, “Why did you return the stone to him?”
“Because I honestly can’t remember where I put my Dao Seed,” Ji Yunlai shrugged. “Might as well let him look for it.”
The reasoning that he had forgotten where his Dao Seed was left Feng Qingxiu speechless. He stared at his master, expecting more of an explanation.
“I really forgot, I’m not lying to you,” Ji Yunlai said casually.
“…”
Feng Qingxiu felt utterly exhausted and didn’t even have the energy to scold his master anymore.
Ji Yunlai, however, seemed slightly displeased by his apprentice’s worried expression. So he reached out, gently cupped Feng Qingxiu’s face, and smiled. “Qingxiu.”
Feng Qingxiu looked up at him.
His master smiled warmly, “You can~ scold me again if you want~.”
“...” Feng Qingxiu remained silent for a moment before suddenly reaching out and pushing his master against the mountain rock.