Severing Ties: The Sect Regrets My Departure

Chapter 222: The Eastern Wasteland Boils; Sir Ning Yuan

“In affairs, think of reverence.”

This maxim from the Nine Thoughts of a Gentleman refers to the mindset one must hold when undertaking a task: to think deeply, to act with respect and caution, and to go all out to ensure success.

However… Bai Songyang was confused. Why was his father bringing this up now?

“You have failed to consider three things,” Bai Changlin said, his head still bowed over his calligraphy.

“First, you failed to consider the Root. The men you intend to lead away today represent the future bloodline of the Bai Clan. If they are lost, our inheritance will be severed. We will have no successors.”

Bai Songyang frowned, his pride stung. “The Bai Clan has no cowards. We are not afraid to die for righteousness.”

“Second,” Bai Changlin continued, ignoring the outburst, “you failed to consider the Cause. News of Gu Xiu’s mistreatment appeared suddenly and spread specifically to Purple Sun City with suspicious speed. There is an invisible hand pushing this narrative. Have you stopped to think why?”

Bai Songyang fell silent. He hadn’t.

“Third, you failed to consider the Consequence. Leading a mob to Azure Mystic might satisfy your anger, but it does nothing to help Gu Xiu. Your first priority should be to find him, protect him, and shield him from the storm.”

This time, Bai Songyang bowed his head. He was convinced. He lacked his father’s foresight and strategic depth.

“But Father,” he argued, “even if someone is manipulating the news, the damage is done. Azure Mystic will now hate Gu Xiu to the bone. They might try to silence him permanently to save face. If we don’t intervene, Gu Xiu is in grave danger.”

“Besides,” he added, “Gu Xiu vanished after the Awakening Spirit Valley incident. Searching for him without clues is like looking for a needle in the ocean.”

“Hard to find, yet we must search,” Bai Changlin said firmly. “We must find him, and we must uncover the identity of the mastermind behind these rumors. The Bai Clan does not mind being used as a spear, but we must know whose spear we are.”

“And more importantly… who else might want to harm Young Master Gu?”

Bai Songyang hesitated. “So… does this mean the Bai Clan will do nothing about Azure Mystic?”

“Of course not.”

Bai Changlin smiled. He finished his final stroke, lifted the paper, and blew gently on the wet ink. Once it was dry, he handed it to his son.

“This is…”

Bai Songyang took the paper. His eyes widened as he read the title.

[A Proclamation Denouncing Azure Mystic]

“If a gentleman chooses not to act, he should be as still as a frozen lake,” Bai Changlin said, his voice dropping an octave.

“But if he chooses to act…”

He stood up, his scholarly demeanor replaced by the terrifying pressure of a veteran cultivator.

“…he should shake the heavens and shatter the earth with a single blow!”

“However,” Bai Changlin added, his eyes dark, “this task is not for you young ones.”

“It is time for us old bones… to stretch our limbs.”

…

On this day, the winds of the Eastern Wasteland shifted.

Hermits who had lived in deep mountains for centuries walked out of their caves, leading disciples toward the Heaven-Leveling Mountains.

Warships that had patrolled the Endless Sea for generations turned their prows inland, soaring into the sky like leviathans, their cannons primed.

Ancient clans, outwardly calm, dispatched their shadow guards across the land, hunting for truth and tracing footsteps.

The entire Eastern Wasteland was moving.

“It’s not just Dragon Ridge Pass and Fish Harbor,” Shadow reported, his voice low. “There are movements everywhere. Legends who haven’t been seen in five hundred years are emerging. Even the Northern Abyss is restless.”

“And… there are rumors that the Luanxian Sacred Land—one of the Three Great Sacred Lands—is also making moves.”

Cloud Firmament City. Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion.

Wan Xiaobei listened to the report, idly clicking the beads of her golden abacus.

“What about the one on Qixia Mountain?” she asked.

“Still in a Death Seclusion. No movement.”

Wan Xiaobei nodded. “Anything else?”

“One more thing,” Shadow said. “That Buddha statue from the West Desert… it’s about to cross the border into the Eastern Wasteland.”

“Do we know its purpose yet?”

“Unknown. It travels slowly, preaching scriptures, chanting for rain, converting bandits, and saving the weak. It looks like a missionary journey, yet it never stops in one place for long. However… its trajectory leads straight to the Heaven-Leveling Mountains.”

“Those bald donkeys from the West Desert always have something wrong with their heads,” Wan Xiaobei muttered. “What about the force spreading the rumors? Any leads?”

“None. Their network is vast, rivaling a Sacred Land’s intelligence, but they are incredibly cautious. We can’t trace the source.”

“Can’t trace it?” Wan Xiaobei frowned, then shook her head. “Fine. What about the survivors from Awakening Spirit Valley? Have they arrived at headquarters?”

“They have. Until Elder Feng’s true identity is revealed, they will remain inside the dimension artifact. No one can track them.”

Shadow paused, then asked tentatively, “Recently, many of Immortal Gu’s old friends have come to us buying information. They clearly mean him no harm. Can’t we… tell them?”

“No,” Wan Xiaobei said instantly. “Absolutely not.”

“The Eastern Wasteland is a boiling pot right now. Everyone is looking for him. Friends, yes—but even more enemies. And let’s not forget the vultures who want the secrets he brought back from the Forbidden Realm.”

“Gu Xiu has lost his cultivation. If his location is exposed now, the risk is too high. My Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion is a merchant association. We do not gamble with our clients’ lives.”

She clapped her hands and stood up.

“That’s all. Tell everyone to be careful.”

Wan Xiaobei left the meeting room, her steps light as she headed toward the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion. Gu Xiu was in seclusion, so she wasn’t expecting to see him. She was going to tutor Little Ping’an.

However, halfway there, she heard the sound of reading.

“Heaven and Earth are dark and yellow; the Universe is vast and desolate…”

“The sun and moon wax and wane; the stars and constellations are arrayed…”

Wan Xiaobei stopped. A former tavern across the street had been converted into a makeshift academy. Inside, dozens of children sat on mats, chanting from books.

The teacher was a young man. He was exceptionally handsome, with red lips and white teeth, exuding an air of gentle scholarship. Yet, beneath the warmth, there was a faint, icy aloofness.

He looked familiar.

Wan Xiaobei asked around. The academy had opened half a month ago. The teacher’s surname was Ning. He was eccentric, ignoring anyone who tried to befriend him, but he taught for free, so the rogue cultivators happily sent their children to him.

“Ning Yuan?”

” ‘Only by being indifferent to fame and fortune can one clarify their aspirations; only by being calm can one go far?’ “

Wan Xiaobei watched him for a moment longer, then shrugged and walked away.

After she left, the teacher—who had ignored everyone outside—turned his head. He cast a cool glance at Wan Xiaobei’s retreating back.

A flicker of disgust passed through his eyes.

It vanished as quickly as it came. He turned his gaze across the street to a drunken old man slumped against a wall, seemingly asleep.

Ning Yuan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Just then, a fluctuation of Spiritual Qi rippled through the air nearby.

Ning Yuan glanced in the direction of the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion.

His heart remained unmoved.

He had come to this city to cultivate his mind and investigate a hidden secret. A minor Foundation Establishment cultivator achieving Grand Perfection in six Dao Platforms? It was impressive for a mortal, perhaps, but beneath his notice.

He turned back to his book.

He did not know that the “minor breakthrough” he had just dismissed was the very truth he had traveled thousands of miles to find.

…

Listening-to-Rain Pavilion. Backyard.

“This White Soil Green Moss Dao Platform, forged from Creation Immortal Soil, is truly extraordinary. The resource consumption was immense. If I weren’t swimming in Spirit Stones right now, this single platform would have stalled me for a year.”

Gu Xiu opened his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face.

“I hope the Ten Thousand Spirit Respect Vein doesn’t cost as much.”

His goals were clear: Perfection of the Green Moss Platform, and stabilization of the Respect Vein Platform.

He looked inward.

In his Dantian Qi Sea, a magnificent tower rose from the chaos.

Six and a half layers.

The Eight Trigrams Invincible Dao Platform. The Seven Treasures Lotus Dao Platform. The Five Elements Immortal Gate Chessboard. The Yin-Yang Purple Qi Dao Platform. The Ten Thousand Star Forging Dao Platform. The White Soil Green Moss Dao Platform.

And now, forming the foundation for the seventh layer, the Ten Thousand Spirit Respect Vein.

Each platform was a masterpiece, pushed to its absolute limit. They connected seamlessly, reinforcing each other, creating a structure far stronger than his foundation from five hundred years ago.

Once the seventh layer was complete, he could break through to the Golden Core realm immediately.

“It won’t be long now.”

“The day I break through… I won’t need to hide anymore.”

Gu Xiu knew the world outside was moving. He knew someone was using him as a pawn in a larger game. But he didn’t intervene.

He had only one job: Cultivate.

Meanwhile, someone else shared his single-minded focus.

Azure Mystic Sacred Land. Spirit Beast Peak.

Lu Qingyao sat at the center of her blood-red formation, her face twisted in concentration. She was breaking through.

However… her luck was not as good as Gu Xiu’s.

As she frantically extracted the bloodline power from the despairing beasts trapped on her mountain…

The army of vengeful spirits she had once personally nurtured arrived.

Silently, invisibly, they slipped into the formation.