Path of the Sect Leader-Chapter 22: Breakthrough in the First Person

Everything they now held had been forged from decades of hard-won lessons by the Chu Youmin clan, living cheek-by-jowl with the Black River. If anyone knew how to spit in that mist’s eye, it was them.
Qi Xiu lifted the Black Wind Banner, running appreciative fingers along its shaft. Black spirit-wood taller than a man, runes carved deep, a scrap of gray beast hide dangling from the tip. Nothing rare, nothing flashy, yet a faint ripple of wind-aspected power breathed from the fabric. A proper restriction lay sealed inside—rare for a first-tier artifact. Whoever claimed it would need to refine it first.
“Only strong enough for four at once…” Qi Xiu let out a quiet breath. The four who’d been pouring their spiritual energy into the Spirit-Gathering Array day and night had to be the ones to go down. That left him topside. No way around it.
Everything else stood ready. He handed the banner to Zhang Shishi. “Refine it. The moment the bond takes, we move.”
A first-tier artifact asked little. One stick of incense later, Zhang Shishi had the banner humming in his grip, storage pouch bulging with supplies. Behind him walked He Yu, Qin Weiyu, and Pan Rong—each with a Fragrant Iris Pill tucked beneath the tongue, mouths sealed, eyes bright. In perfect silence the four bowed to their sect leader, deep and solemn, then turned and descended into the waiting black.
Qi Xiu watched the crimson of their robes vanish into the haze before he finally dragged his gaze away. He set the remaining disciples to standby rotations, then pulled Zhan Yuan into the sect leader’s chamber.
“Talk to me,” he said the instant the door shut. “District Nine-Three. Every detail.”
Zhan Yuan chose his words with care. “Their people… have no warmth for Chu Qin Sect. Cold shoulders, colder words. I did exactly as you taught—wandered half the day, found an old steward who didn’t look ready to bite, offered the gifts, then spoke.”
He’d swallowed plenty of scorn on that trip. Part of him had wanted to unload every cutting remark the moment he returned. But the memory of Qi Xiu’s face as the four disappeared—worry etched so deep it hurt to witness—stopped him cold. No point piling more weight on the man’s back.
He stuck to the ledger instead. Prices. Exchanges. Every spirit stone spent.
The longer Qi Xiu listened, the deeper his brow creased. When Zhan Yuan reached the Black Wind Banner—sold at double market rate—Qi Xiu’s knuckles went white around the edge of the table.
“They really think we’re walking sacks of spirit stones.” His voice came low, dangerous. “From now on, District Nine-Three can rot. We’re done begging scraps from their table.”
Zhan Yuan’s stomach dropped. All that pride he’d felt marching back with treasures—gone in an instant. He’d failed. Spectacularly. Heat rushed to his face; the floor looked suddenly inviting. Before thought caught up, he was on his knees, forehead almost kissing the tiles.
“This disciple has failed the sect. Punish me as you see fit.”
Qi Xiu stared, stunned. He’d always been soft-hearted, quick to forgive slights aimed at himself, slow to true anger. But twice now the Chu clan had bled them dry, and the coffers were already echoing. This wasn’t petty pride—this was survival.
Yet seeing Zhan Yuan—barely seventeen, trembling on the ground because of one careless sentence—twisted something fierce in his chest.
He crouched, gripped the boy’s shoulders, and hauled him upright. “Get up. No one’s punishing anyone.”
Zhan Yuan’s eyes were red. Qi Xiu kept his voice gentle, steady.
“I’m angry at them, not you. We’re supposed to be under South Chu’s protection, yet they gouge us every chance they get because we’re small and new. That banner is life or death for us down there, and they jacked the price knowing it. Even if I’d gone myself, they’d have done the same. You did everything right.”
It took long minutes of quiet talk before the tremor left Zhan Yuan’s hands.
When the boy finally steadied, he asked, “What do we do now?”
Qi Xiu paced, palms clasped behind his back, robes whispering across the floorboards.
“I never planned to cozy up to District Nine-Three anyway. Senior Kan once spoke of a Foundation Establishment cultivator in the north—Wang Wan. Fair dealer, keeps his word. Problem is, Black River Peak sits dead center; the northern stretch is a long haul for a Qi Refining second-layer on a Wind Array Spirit Boat. I figured we’d finish the array first, then pay respects properly.”
He stopped, turned.
“Plans change. Kan’s word is only one man’s word. Here’s what we’ll do.” He met Zhan Yuan’s eyes. “You’ll go north. Scout Wang Wan’s territory, feel the man out. If he’s half what Kan claims, I’ll visit myself. While you’re there, linger in his market—Soldier’s Rest Market, they call it. Watch prices, listen to gossip, learn how low-tier artifacts really move. You’ll be handling logistics for years to come; this is your training ground. No spirit stones spared for comfort, but eyes and ears cost nothing. Pave the way for me. Can you do that?”
Zhan Yuan straightened, shame burned away by purpose. “I’ll leave within the hour.”
Qi Xiu caught his sleeve. “Tomorrow dawn. Rest first. Prepare properly.”
Zhan Yuan bowed and left to pack.
The moment his footsteps faded, excited shouts erupted outside.
“Sect Leader!”
Zhang Shishi burst through the doors, practically vibrating, banner thrust toward the nearest disciple to hold. He grabbed Qi Xiu by both arms, grinning like a madman.
“Good news—great news!”
Qi Xiu blinked, caught off guard. “Well? Out with it.”
Zhang Shishi yanked He Yu forward. Behind them, Pan Rong beamed; even Qin Weiyu looked vaguely awake. He Yu’s face—normally all hard angles and swagger—was flushed sunrise-pink, eyes shining with something dangerously close to glee.
“We found the cave,” Zhang Shishi rushed. “Found the pool exactly where you said. And Sect Leader… that pool breathes spirit qi. Thin, but pure. Enough to shove the black mist back from the entrance. The cave’s perfect. Three more days—four at most—and the array channels will lock into place.”
He shook He Yu like a proud older brother. “But that’s not even the best part. The terrain down there—water aspect dominant, exactly matching He Yu’s natal constitution. He sat in meditation one night, just one, breathing that trickle of qi—and he broke through. Qi Refining fourth layer. Right there in the cave!”
He Yu laughed, short and stunned, as if he still didn’t believe it himself. Morning light caught the flush on his cheeks and turned it radiant.
Qi Xiu stared, then broke into a helpless grin of his own.
For the first time since they’d fled to this cursed river, fortune had finally glanced their way.