Path of the Sect Leader-Chapter 36: A Brand-New Look

Time blurred. Sun rose, moon set, another month vanished like white steeds flashing past a crevice.
Cultivators boast that one day on the mountain equals a millennium in the mortal world, but no one in Chu Qin Sect had the luxury to sit still. Every day was stretched into two, every pair of hands busy from dawn to dusk. Even twelve-year-old Qin Weiyu was roped in. Qi Xiu’s boots had practically worn a new path along the entire length of the Blackriver.
The pig-fish could burrow several meters under swamp muck and still breathe, so the ideal site was a natural marsh basin ringed by hard bedrock on all sides. Qi Xiu searched for thirty straight days and found nothing perfect. In the end he marked three half-decent valleys, each with its own fatal flaw. He still hadn’t decided.
Anxiety gnawed at him, but today he let none of it show.
Today was a grand day for Chu Qin Sect.
The mountain-protection array would ignite, and the new residences would rise from the earth.
“Sect Leader Senior Brother, if you please.”
Zhang Shishi stood at the heart of the Vast Moral Golden Light Grand Array, solemn in ceremonial robes, gesturing toward Qi Xiu who held the sect leader token.
Qi Xiu dipped his chin. The token had already been blood-bound to the array core. He intoning the activation incantation in a low voice, the disciples formed a ring around him, chanting the accompanying liturgy in perfect unison.
HUMMMM.
The entire peak quivered once.
A fierce golden radiance exploded from the core, Moral Dao power, normally gentle and tranquil, sharpened by metal-aspect spiritual qi into something like a golden sword unsheathed, swept outward in a tyrannical wave.
From the sect leader’s quarters at the center, the light surged along every node and plate buried across the mountain. Within half a stick of incense, brilliant golden mist thickened, then blossomed outward.
The disciples followed Qi Xiu onto the terrace.
Ribbons of auspicious yellow qi drifted down the slopes like a thousand golden silk scarves, gently but inexorably pushing the age-old black miasma away from Blackriver Peak.
The entire summit bathed in warm evening-gold light. The crumbling little temple’s weathered stone walls suddenly gleamed as though freshly lacquered. The air itself carried a faint, comforting fragrance that urged the heart toward sincerity and the Dao.
Only now did Blackriver Peak truly feel like home.
Zhang Shishi let out a long breath. “Only now… does this place really belong to us.”
He turned. He Yu and the others nodded slowly, eyes shining.
A month of back-breaking array work had carved flesh from everyone’s bones. Even growing Qin Weiyu looked half-starved. The old Chu Qin Sect had never seen disciples work themselves to collapse for the sect’s sake.
Zhang Shishi’s gaze slid to Qi Xiu.
The sect leader had lost even more weight. Medium build once; now he looked like sun-dried kindling. From behind, with those premature white strands at his temples, he could pass for a fifty-year-old runt.
He’s barely thirty, Zhang Shishi thought, throat tight. Prime of life.
Guilt stabbed him. He remembered his own stubborn refusal to raise “pigs,” how he’d stormed out like a child. Shame burned hot behind his eyes.
On the ground, a translucent dome blossomed from the array heart, expanding until it shoved black fog, stench, and even innocent clouds beyond the border. Then it locked, steady and serene.
The golden auspicious clouds condensed overhead, destined to float above Blackriver Peak forevermore, eternal guardians.
Qi Xiu adjusted the token, dialing defensive strength to “low-burn.” Enough to stall an attacker for the length of one incense stick, plenty of warning for those inside. He disabled the no-fly restriction entirely, no need to accidentally offend some passing expert and invite disaster.
Among the cheering crowd, only one person’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes: Zhan Yuan, in charge of construction.
Zhang Shishi was the named successor, but Zhan Yuan had begun to quietly disagree.
Three months living cheek-by-jowl had made it obvious.
Zhang Shishi was honest to a fault, but blunt as a mallet. He drove everyone like rented mules with no concept of rest. Worse, he played favorites. He Yu always got the lightest jobs “by coincidence,” freeing up extra hours for cultivation. Qi Xiu hadn’t noticed yet, but the rest of the disciples weren’t blind. Behind Zhang Shishi’s back, Pan Rong and the others grumbled plenty.
Should I tell the sect leader directly? Or confront Zhang Shishi first?
Zhan Yuan was still weighing options when the array finally settled. He stepped forward.
“Sect Leader Senior Brother, construction is ready. Shall we begin?”
“Begin, begin!” Qi Xiu’s eyes curved into happy crescents.
Every treasure bought with blood and spirit stones in Qi Nan City was finally paying off. How could he not grin?
Array live, houses about to rise, Breeze Robes on every back (wind barriers making the black fog bearable), storage pouch turned into future revenue, bonded gifts and books delighting the kids; the whole sect thrummed with life. Nothing made him happier.
Zhan Yuan produced a stack of second-tier Construction Giant talismans.
He walked to the cleared foundation ground, chanted, and flung the first talisman skyward.
The yellow rune ignited mid-air, streaked into the earth.
RUMBLE.
The ground trembled. A two-zhang-tall humanoid of compacted earth qi slowly rose, featureless except for crude limbs.
Zhan Yuan flicked a string of spell signs onto its back, prodding, urging.
The giant gave a gravelly, protesting roar, then scooped up the prepared timber and rammed-earth blocks and got to work.
One after another, more giants, big and small, clawed their way out of the soil. Dust billowed, wood chips flew. Blackriver Peak instantly turned into a bustling construction site.
“Cough, cough!”
Everyone retreated into the main hall, laughing and wiping their eyes.
Through the haze, golden sunlight still filtered down, warm on their faces.
Chu Qin Sect had never looked so alive.