Path of the Sect Leader-Chapter 29: Fifteen Third-Grade Spirit Stones

A natal talent—born from the cultivator’s intrinsic treasure, hidden in the sea of consciousness. Some drew one technique, some ten; everything depended on insight and sweat. In a duel between equals, the side with the stronger natal talent often walked away breathing.
The bronze mirror that had materialized behind Steward Yu was clearly his intrinsic treasure. The white light it released could force any artifact to bare its soul. Support-type talents were rare as phoenix feathers; no wonder a mere Qi Refining peak cultivator sat at the top of Myriad Treasures Pavilion’s appraisal desk.
Even Wang Wan’s eyes widened a fraction before he smoothed his expression back to grandfatherly calm.
The mirror vanished as quickly as it came. The red-jade disk dimmed to ordinary jade once more.
Steward Yu’s voice rang clear and unhurried.
“Core control disk of the second-tier grand array Ten Directions Wind-Fire Restoration.
Primary function: amplify the flame-aspect offensive might. Paired with its wind counterpart, it doubles the killing formation Ten Directions Scorching Inferno.
The complete array is Qi Yun orthodox inheritance—only Golden Core masters may craft it. Normal operation draws directly from a spirit vein; spirit stones are consumed solely when unleashing its ten major functions.
At full power, a lone Foundation Establishment cultivator caught inside would struggle to survive even one breath of Scorching Inferno.
With four Foundation Establishment cultivators feeding it, even a Golden Core striking from outside would bleed before breaking through.
Ten variations total, including illusion, flight-ban, and—”
He rattled off the rest like a salesman who already knew the price by heart.
“Top-grade second-tier,” he concluded.
The two from Flowing Blossom nearly glowed. With this disk, their mountain gate would be impregnable for a century.
Qi Xiu only felt a stab of sorrow.
All that splendor, and it had still fallen to betrayal from within.
“First a man insults himself; then others insult him.” The ancient saying tasted like ash.
The female Foundation Establishment cultivator cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “So… how many stones are we talking about? It’s just one disk among many.”
Steward Yu smiled the thin smile of a man who had delivered bad news a thousand times.
“Without this disk, your strongest attack drops by half.
With it, your sect sleeps soundly for a hundred years.
But yes—Qi Yun Peak has a dozen Golden Cores who could forge a replacement for the cost of materials alone.”
He paused, enjoying the tension.
“Market price for an irreplaceable core component of a top-grade second-tier array:
Fifteen third-grade spirit stones.”
Silence.
The Flowing Blossom Sect Leader actually choked. His face twisted so hard the woman kicked his ankle under the table.
Fifteen third-grade stones—fifteen Foundation Establishment Pills worth of wealth.
Qi Xiu kept his face blank while his heart performed a quiet somersault of joy. The sect’s coffers had just gone from “starving” to “feast.”
Qin Siyan, you irresponsible bastard—your eyes were sharper than your conscience.
The woman exhaled through her teeth. “Fine. Fifteen.”
Spirit stones clinked onto the table like golden rain.
Contracts appeared—three copies, iron-clad wording. Signatures, seals, witnesses. One for Myriad Treasures Pavilion, one for Flowing Blossom, one for the ragged little sect on the Black River.
“Transaction complete,” Steward Yu declared. “Any future disputes come through us. Appraisal fee already covered by Flowing Blossom.”
Qi Xiu bowed stiffly in their direction. The woman ignored him completely, cupped her fists to Wang Wan, and swept out with her sect leader in tow like a storm leaving port.
Yu Tangjing followed a moment later.
Only Wang Wan and Qi Xiu remained.
Qi Xiu took a single third-grade stone from the pouch and offered it with both hands.
“Senior, your kindness today—”
Wang Wan waved it away before the words finished.
“I have no grandchildren starving on the Black River. Keep your stones.”
Qi Xiu added a second stone, then a third—still refused.
At last the old man smiled, gentle and tired.
“I deal in favors, not coins. Remember how I treated you today. One day, treat my descendants the same. That is payment enough.”
Qi Xiu’s throat tightened. Another debt added to the towering pile—Qi Yun Chu Clan, Southern Chu Clan, and now Wang Wan of Soldier’s Rest.
He bowed so low his forehead nearly brushed the floor.
“This junior will remember until the seas run dry.”
Wang Wan laughed softly, patted his shoulder, and walked out into the bright Qi South City sun.
Qi Xiu stood alone in the empty room, fifteen third-grade spirit stones heavy in his pouch.
For the first time since the night Chu Qin Peak burned, the future looked a little less dark.