Although Ancestor Zhang Zhenyuan had stormed off in a rage, the tournament formalities still had to be observed. Yang Zhen was crowned the champion, and with the title came the grand prize: two prime storefronts in the heart of Wuji Market.

The Wuji Sect official responsible for presenting the deed was practically vibrating with suppressed fury, his handlebar mustache twitching as he handed over the keys.

Qin Lu watched from the shadows, suppressing a chuckle. The Wuji Sect’s tournament had backfired spectacularly. They had spent a fortune to build a stage, only to have their greatest enemy perform the encore. It was a classic case of lifting a stone only to drop it on one’s own foot.

Not that it was his problem.

Qin Lu collected his own modest prize—five hundred Spirit Stones for cracking the Top 10—and promptly vanished into the crowd with Lu Xian.

They parted ways at the market entrance. Qin Lu walked home with a leisurely, unhurried gait, the tension of the last few days finally bleeding out of his shoulders.

When he arrived at his residence on Willow Street, he found Steward Chen waiting dutifully at the gate.

Qin Lu smiled faintly. Chen was sharp, discreet, and possessed far more situational awareness than the average servant. It was why Qin Lu had stationed him in the gatehouse to handle visitors.

“Immortal Master, you’ve returned,” Chen said, bowing low.

“Draw some water. I want a bath,” Qin Lu ordered, striding past him.

“At once!”

Life on Willow Street was a significant upgrade from the slums near the Little Tuo River. Here, every courtyard had its own private well. No more hauling buckets from the muddy riverbank.

As the servants filled the tub, Qin Lu allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation. He had successfully navigated a minefield. He had suppressed his arrogance, thrown the match convincingly, and escaped the spotlight with his life and anonymity intact.

It was a good day.

He activated the heating formation at the base of the tub, stripped off his dusty robes, and sank into the steaming water.

“Oh…”

A groan of pure pleasure escaped his lips as the heat soaked into his bones. He leaned back against the smooth wood, resting his head on a folded towel, and closed his eyes.

Object Control Technique.

A gentle pulse of Qi rippled out. On the table across the room, a wine gourd wobbled, lifted into the air, and floated smoothly into his outstretched hand.

Pop.

He uncorked it with his thumb and took a long swig. The spiritual wine slid down his throat like liquid fire, blooming into a sweet, fragrant warmth in his stomach.

Qin Lu sighed, savoring the aftertaste.

Since arriving in this world, his entertainment options had been limited. Most days were a grind of cultivation and proficiency farming. But he was learning to find joy in the small things: a hot bath, a massage, a good jar of wine, watching a play, or simply basking in the sun.

Life was like a journey through a storm; if you couldn’t change the path, you might as well enjoy the scenery and savor every drop of rain.

…

After soaking for a full hour, Qin Lu finally emerged, dried off, and dressed in fresh robes.

He had just settled onto his meditation cushion when a frantic knock interrupted him. Steward Chen entered, his face pale.

“Immortal Master, you have visitors.”

“Who?”

“It is Immortal Master Lu Anchen.”

“Oh…” Qin Lu didn’t look up from his tea. “Let him in.”

“Immortal Master…” Chen hesitated, his voice trembling. “He didn’t come alone. There are many others with him. And one of them… the aura… I believe it is a Foundation Establishment Senior!”

“Hm?!”

Qin Lu’s eyes snapped open.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator with Lu Anchen? It could only be one person.

The Sect Leader of the Xuanyang Sect—Wu Zheng.

What does he want with me?

There was no time to speculate. A Foundation Establishment expert waiting at his door was not something he could ignore. Qin Lu straightened his robes and hurried to the gate.

Outside, a group of seven cultivators stood in the street. At the forefront was a middle-aged man with a kindly face, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

It was Wu Zheng. Lu Anchen stood beside him, grinning sheepishly.

“Senior Wu! Your presence honors my humble abode. I apologize for not welcoming you sooner—please, come in!” Qin Lu bowed deeply, forcing a bright, respectful smile onto his face.

“Uncle Qin, we won’t be staying long,” Lu Anchen interjected. “The Sect Leader just wanted a quick word.”

Qin Lu turned his gaze to Wu Zheng, careful to keep his eyes lowered respectfully. “Does Senior have instructions for this junior?”

“Instructions? hardly…”

Wu Zheng smiled, his expression warm and unthreatening. “Fellow Daoist Qin, your reputation precedes you. Seeing you today, I can confirm the rumors were understated. You are truly extraordinary. I came to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Qin Lu’s heart skipped a beat. “What for?”

Wu Zheng took a half-step closer, lowering his voice. “For intentionally losing to Anchen. You allowed my Xuanyang Sect to save face and secure a great victory.”

Qin Lu’s smile froze for a fraction of a second before he recovered. “Senior jests! Little Lu is incredibly strong. I was overwhelmed—”

“I know Anchen’s limits,” Wu Zheng interrupted gently. “There was definitely an element of… generosity in his victory. You know him well, so I assume it was a gift.”

Qin Lu scratched his head, deciding to drop the act. “Sect Leader has keen eyes. Little Lu is like a nephew to me. The spotlight belongs to the young, right?”

“Hehe. Powerful, humble, and loyal. Truly admirable.” Wu Zheng paused, his eyes twinkling with meaningful intent. “Tell me, Fellow Daoist Qin… would you have any interest in joining the Xuanyang Sect as an Elder?”

“Uh…”

The sudden offer caught Qin Lu off guard.

Wu Zheng, a Foundation Establishment powerhouse, had personally come to his door to recruit him. For any other loose cultivator, this would be the opportunity of a lifetime—a ticket to power, resources, and protection.

But for Qin Lu, it was a trap. Joining a sect meant joining their wars.

“I am honored, Senior Wu,” Qin Lu said slowly, choosing his words with extreme care. “But I am naturally lazy. I’ve grown used to my freedom and the unrestrained life of a loose cultivator. I fear I would chafe under sect rules and only cause you trouble.”

Wu Zheng nodded, his expression remaining pleasant. “Understandable. To each their own aspirations. I won’t press you. But if you ever change your mind, my door is open.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Sect Leader!” Qin Lu bowed again, relieved.

“We are heading to a victory banquet now,” Wu Zheng added. “Would you care to join us for a drink?”

“I’m afraid I’m feeling a bit under the weather after the match. I was planning to rest. I wouldn’t want to spoil the mood.”

“Fair enough.”

Wu Zheng chuckled. Then, the smile on his face dimmed slightly, replaced by a steely seriousness.

“I hope what you said today is true, Young Friend Qin. Since you have no desire to join a sect, I trust you won’t be joining the Wei Family either. Do you understand me?”

The temperature in the street seemed to drop ten degrees.

Qin Lu felt the weight of the warning. This was the real reason for the visit. Wu Zheng wasn’t just recruiting; he was ensuring that if he couldn’t have Qin Lu, the enemy wouldn’t either.

“Senior can rest assured,” Qin Lu said firmly. “I will absolutely not get involved.”

“Good! Let’s go.”

Wu Zheng turned on his heel and walked away without another word. His entourage fell into step behind him.

Lu Anchen glanced back, offering Qin Lu a reassuring wink before jogging to catch up.

Qin Lu watched them disappear down the street. He shook his head, let out a long breath, and turned back to the safety of his home.