Chapter 233: Yuanqi Dispels Doubts!
“Decisive!” Zhao Yuanqi laughed, clapping his hands together as he produced a pristine jade slip. “Then please leave your Divine Sense imprint on this agreement, Junior Brother. The Senior Brothers handling the Formation setup will arrive sometime next month. We’ll need your cooperation when they do.”
Chen Ping accepted the jade slip and swept his mind through its contents. The terms were clear and devoid of hidden traps. Without hesitation, he stamped it with his Divine Sense.
With the paperwork settled, Zhao Yuanqi’s mood brightened considerably. He fished a palm-sized white jade token from his robes. A glowing “5,000” hovered over its surface in pulsing spiritual light. He tossed it to Chen Ping.
“Here, Junior Brother Chen. This brings us to the third matter. The Sect’s additional reward for your staggering contribution. Five thousand Contribution Points. Keep it secure; I had to fight tooth and nail with the Headmaster and the Elders to squeeze this out of them.”
Chen Ping caught the token, genuinely surprised. He retrieved his own identity Jade Pendant and swiped the two artifacts together. A flash of light bridged the gap, and the wealth transferred into his pendant.
His total balance now sat at a staggering 8,300 Contribution Points. It was an absolute fortune. Within the Sect’s walls, Contribution Points were vastly more powerful than Spirit Stones. They were the only currency that could purchase classified cultivation techniques, ancient secret arts, and strictly embargoed rare materials.
The Sect is surprisingly generous. With this kind of capital, I can finally raid the Scripture Depository for a high-tier secret technique, Chen Ping thought, a genuine smile touching his lips.
“Thank you for fighting on my behalf, Senior Brother. I owe you one.”
“Ah, think nothing of it.” Zhao Yuanqi took a slow sip of his spirit tea and cleared his throat.
It was the universal tell of a man preparing for a massive, unprompted lecture.
“Now, this final matter concerns a grand, long-term blueprint for the Sect’s future. After extensive deliberations with the Elder council, I am spearheading the establishment of a ‘Hundred Arts Research Institute.’ We’ll construct dedicated sub-halls for Pill Dao, Talismans, Artifact Refining, Formations, and Spirit Plant cultivation! We’ll pool our elite resources, incentivize radical innovation, and aggressively research new Pill formulas and Formation techniques!”
Zhao Yuanqi launched into a relentless, torrential monologue. He covered the logistical necessity, the structural feasibility, the organizational hierarchy, and his soaring future projections. Phrases like “shattering skill barriers,” “cross-disciplinary integration,” and “internal resource circulation loops” spilled from his mouth in an endless, bureaucratic drone.
Chen Ping felt his brain begin to numb. He possessed absolutely zero interest in Sect administration or corporate structuring. He would rather spend those hours tending to his Black Earth or tending a screaming Alchemy Furnace.
Moreover, his mind was utterly consumed by the agonizing problem of liquidating his Foundation Establishment Pills. He nodded absently, throwing in a noncommittal “hmm” or “ah” whenever Zhao Yuanqi paused for breath.
But Zhao Yuanqi was only gaining momentum. He escalated from the institute’s blueprint to a hundred-year Sect manifesto, enthusiastically painting a utopian vision of the Qingyun Sect becoming the uncontested “Hundred Arts Center” of the entire region. He showed zero signs of stopping.
Unable to endure it a second longer, Chen Ping gingerly raised a hand, interrupting the tirade.
“Ah… Senior Brother Zhao. The institute is a phenomenal concept. Truly visionary. It will benefit the Sect for generations! It’s just… this Junior Brother is currently wrestling with a deeply personal dilemma. I was wondering if I might seek your esteemed counsel on the matter?”
“Oh?” Zhao Yuanqi paused, blinking. He wasn’t offended by the interruption; instead, his curiosity piqued, and he eagerly shelved his grand manifesto. “Speak freely, Junior Brother Chen! Have you hit a bottleneck in your cultivation? Are you lacking a specific resource? If it falls within the Sect’s power, I will personally see it resolved.”
Chen Ping carefully measured his words, adopting a deeply troubled expression.
“It isn’t my own dilemma. It concerns a… distant cousin of mine. We are quite close. Through a stroke of sheer Fated Chance, he recently acquired a massive stockpile of precious Pills. Several dozen, at least. He has no personal use for them and desperately needs to liquidate them for Spirit Stones.”
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “However, the grade of these Pills is highly sensitive. If he dumps them directly into the public Marketplace, it will inevitably draw lethal attention and catastrophic trouble. He is paralyzed with anxiety. Given your vast experience and deep connections, Senior Brother, how would you advise he safely offload them?”
He kept the details deliberately vague, offloading his own predicament onto a phantom “friend.”
Zhao Yuanqi’s eyes gleamed with immediate interest. He leaned forward, matching Chen Ping’s conspiratorial volume.
“Pills? Several dozen? And highly sensitive in nature? Hmm… yes, that is a thorny predicament. The waters of the Marketplace are notoriously treacherous. Dropping a massive, high-value payload at once is painting a target on your own back. Forgive my asking, but does this friend of yours belong to a Sect or an established family? What is his cultivation?”
That single, casual question struck Chen Ping’s mind like a bolt of lightning.
Right! The Sect!
How in the hell had he missed something so glaringly obvious?!
A deafening buzz filled Chen Ping’s ears as the mental dam violently burst. He had been so utterly consumed by his rogue-cultivator paranoia—obsessing over shadows, disguises, and black market anonymity—that he had completely forgotten his greatest asset.
He wasn’t a rat scrambling in the gutters anymore. He was an Inner Elder of the Qingyun Sect! He possessed status, authority, and power. The Sect itself was the ultimate, legally untouchable buyer!
A single word truly awakens the dreamer.
The manufactured gloom on Chen Ping’s face vanished, replaced by a look of sheer, enlightened clarity. The suffocating anxiety of the past few weeks evaporated into nothingness.
“He does! He’s a Foundation Establishment cultivator securely anchored to a Sect. Senior Brother Zhao, you mean…?”
Zhao Yuanqi gave him a smug, ‘you finally see the light’ grin.
“If he has a Sect, the problem practically solves itself! He should bypass the public markets entirely and let his Sect digest the inventory! He can sell them directly to the Administration Hall or the Pill Hall.”
Zhao Yuanqi tapped the stone table for emphasis. “To any major Sect, high-grade Pill resources are a perpetual scarcity, especially those capable of forcefully accelerating a disciple’s combat power. The Sect would kill for an exclusive bulk purchase. They wouldn’t dare insult him with a lowball offer, either. He’d receive premium internal rates, which completely eclipse the predatory margins of the black market.”
His tone shifted, growing deeply serious.
“I know exactly what you’re worried about, Junior Brother Chen. You fear the Sect might succumb to greed and forcibly seize a disciple’s Fated Chance. Let me put your mind at ease. Any Sect that has survived for centuries operates on ironclad rules and absolute bottom lines.”
“The personal wealth of the high-level cultivators is inextricably bound to the Sect’s prosperity. We rise together, and we burn together. Cannibalizing a loyal disciple for a temporary spike in resources? Chilling the hearts and loyalty of the entire rank and file? Only a terminally stupid, short-sighted tyrant would commit such a suicidal act. The Sect demands sustainable, generational growth. We need a continuous pipeline of fiercely loyal talent, not a butchered golden goose.”
He leaned back, entirely confident. “As long as the origin of the Pills can be reasonably justified—meaning they aren’t blatantly stolen from a fellow disciple or a heavily allied force—the Sect is thrilled when its members secure their own Fated Chances. After all, when the disciples are strong, the Sect is untouchable.”
Listening to Zhao Yuanqi’s brutal, pragmatic logic, the final shadow of doubt in Chen Ping’s heart burned away. He let out a breathless, incredulous laugh.
“Senior Brother Zhao… you really are…”
He had intended to say a cunning old fox, but quickly recalibrated.
“You truly awoke the dreamer with a single sentence! Brilliant! I am in complete awe of your insight!”
Zhao Yuanqi stroked his beard, laughing heartily at the praise. “A trivial observation, hardly worth mentioning. I take it your ‘friend’s’ dilemma is resolved, then?”
“Resolved! Completely, flawlessly resolved! Thank you, Senior Brother!”
Riding a high of absolute euphoria, Chen Ping eagerly refilled Zhao Yuanqi’s cup with steaming spirit tea.
They traded pleasantries for a few more minutes before a highly satisfied Zhao Yuanqi finally took his leave, marching off to aggressively pitch his Research Institute to the next victim.
After securing the stone door behind him, Chen Ping leaned against the cold rock. A massive, feral grin split his face.
The agonizing logistical nightmare that had paralyzed him for days had just been violently dismantled.
After seeing Zhao Yuanqi off, Chen Ping closed the stone door of his cave abode, a relieved and expectant smile spreading across his face.
The problem that had troubled him for days had been resolved just like that.
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