Chapter Thirty-Seven: Return to the Pinnacle

On the scene, Lin Bufan’s sudden kneeling left everyone present utterly bewildered. Aside from a few elders hovering in the sky, only Zhu Qianqing, standing not far off, seemed to grasp what he was feeling at that moment.

Perhaps Shen Wan had acted on a mere whim, but for Lin Bufan, it was as if he had been reborn. All because of that elusive, unattainable Gathering Condensation Pill. Without it, Lin Bufan might have remained stuck at the fourth stage of Concentration for his entire life, destined to fade away in mediocrity.

This was the opportunity Shen Wan had bestowed upon him—well worth such a bow of gratitude.

Perhaps due to the influence of modern values, kneeling as a gesture of respect had long since fallen out of favor in Shen Wan’s era. He promptly yanked Lin Bufan upright. Words hovered on his lips—he’d meant to tease him a little—but when he saw Lin Bufan’s eyes brimming with tears, he swallowed his banter.

This was not the time for jokes.

Lin Bufan’s lips trembled, a weight pressed at his throat, and though his voice circled there, it simply refused to come out. At last, he threw his arms around Shen Wan and burst into tears.

“Little Uncle!”

Shen Wan felt a tightness in his chest as well. He had no idea why Lin Bufan was so emotional, but the sincerity in it was utterly moving.

He gently patted Lin Bufan’s back. “It’s all right, it’s all right. If the house is gone, we’ll just build another one.”

High above, Elder Wei Zhen found his own eyes reddening. His disciple had endured too much, for far too long. He glanced at Shen Wan, his heart swelling with emotion. For Lin Bufan to have become his disciple, and to be so close with his martial uncle—wasn’t that another stroke of fortune?

Had Shen Wan been able to hear Wei Zhen’s thoughts, he would surely have said, “That shameless idea—truly worthy of my cheapskate master’s disciple!”

After much soothing, Lin Bufan finally calmed down. Just then, someone stepped out from the crowd.

This person stood about six feet tall, dressed in blue robes adorned with golden patterns. His skin was pale; without a crown, his lustrous black hair was simply gathered in a high ponytail that spilled down his back.

At the sight of this man, Shen Wan was momentarily stunned. He looked as if he’d been custom-made in a game—no adjective could do him justice. Just one word: handsome. Handsome enough to shake heaven and earth, to make gods and ghosts weep—handsome without reason.

How could anyone be this handsome? Shen Wan had always thought himself rather dashing, but compared to this man, he felt several leagues behind.

This was Wu Xi, Wei Zhen’s personal disciple, Lin Bufan’s senior brother, and an advanced Foundation Establishment cultivator.

While Shen Wan was still a bit dazed, Wu Xi clasped his hands in a deep bow. “Wu Xi pays respects to Martial Uncle. For the grace you’ve shown my junior brother Bufan, words can never suffice.” His voice was clear and forceful, crisp and direct—very pleasing to Shen Wan’s ears.

Wu Xi’s eyelids lifted slightly as he glanced at Lin Bufan, his gaze full of warmth.

Shen Wan shivered involuntarily. This junior of his—there was definitely a story here.

He hurriedly pushed Lin Bufan, still clinging to him, aside. Then, feeling his gesture was a bit abrupt, he awkwardly patted Lin Bufan’s shoulder in a show of camaraderie. “Brother Lin, I have high hopes for you.”

The crowd fell silent...

Shen Wan had blurted out Lin Bufan’s honorific without thinking. He himself felt nothing odd, but everyone else found it somehow off-putting. One called him “Little Uncle,” the other “Brother Lin”—those terms, frankly, sounded rather ambiguous.

Of course, no one was so idle as to point this out. Now that Lin Bufan had returned to his former glory, he had little to do with ordinary disciples like them.

Lin Bufan and Wu Xi followed Elder Wei Zhen away.

Shen Wan claimed he needed to take care of Da Tuanzi and thus did not join them. Whatever those three wanted to discuss behind closed doors was their business; he had no desire to join in.

As for the upcoming celebration at Gu You Sect, it was decided that each elder would take two disciples along. He had no disciples of his own, but he already had someone in mind. So, at least until the day arrived, he could afford to laze about at home.

Gradually, the crowd dispersed. Though Lin Bufan’s breakthrough had happened abruptly, word spread quickly throughout the sect. Someone had already uploaded footage of his achievement to the sect’s information network. Anyone could open their identity token and see it at once.

“Wow! The number one loser of Qianxuan Sect is back on top! Is this the collapse of morality or the distortion of human nature? Let’s wait and see.”

“Three years ago, I had a feeling Senior Brother Lin would make a comeback. Looks like I was right.”

“Who’s got his contact info? Asking for a friend!”

“Get lost!”

“It’s a pity, though. If he’d broken through straight to Foundation Establishment, he would be on par with the senior sister.”

“How could that be the same? I hear the senior sister just doesn’t want to break through. How can Lin Bufan compare to her?”

“You know nothing. You think you can just not break through if you don’t want to?”

“Exactly. I think Lin Bufan could have broken through any time, but Heaven was deliberately holding him back.”

“To be fair, even though Lin Bufan is back among the elite, in Heaven’s eyes he’s just another speck of dust—just like all of us.”

“Oh please, you think you’re like Lin Bufan? Shameless!”

“……”

The information network was already ablaze—jealousy, envy, admiration, indifference—all these emotions were clear between the lines.

Of course, Shen Wan knew nothing of this, since he couldn’t even open the sect’s identity token.

Spotting Zhu Qianqing’s figure in the crowd, he jogged after her.

“Qing, wait up!”

Shen Wan really didn’t know how to address her—he couldn’t very well call her “Junior Niece,” could he?

Zhu Qianqing sensed someone calling her. Turning, she saw it was Shen Wan. But that nickname—“Qing”—made her feel awkward all over.

“Disciple greets Elder Nine,” she said, hastily bowing.

Shen Wan waved his hand dismissively and, not waiting for her to ask, stated his purpose. “We’re going to... what was it, Gu... Gu something Sect, for a wedding soon. Every elder can bring two disciples. Do you want to come?”

“Gu You Sect?”

“Yes, that’s it! The Gu You Sect. Some rich kid there is getting married. I’ll take you to the feast.”

“Can I... really?”

Though Shen Wan’s words made him sound a little crazy, Zhu Qianqing understood the gist.

“Why not? If you want to go, I’ll put your name down. Frankly, you’re one of the few people I know here.”

“All right, thank you, Elder Nine.”

Joy lit up Zhu Qianqing’s face. Gu You Sect was the greatest sect in the valley; being invited to their dual cultivation ceremony was a privilege reserved for people of status.

She bowed again, but Shen Wan was growing weary of all this formality.

“By the way, if you have any good friends, you can bring them along. I’ve got two spots—no sense wasting them.”

“Good friends?”

“Yeah, your best pals. Up to you. I’ll let you know when the time comes—bring whoever you want.”

“Thank you...”

Seeing she was about to bow once more, Shen Wan quickly stopped her. “That’s enough, really. My back aches just watching you.”

Fearing she’d launch into another round of etiquette, Shen Wan turned and made a hasty retreat.

He’d given his instructions; whatever came next was for Zhu Qianqing to worry about.

She stood there, happiness in her heart, but watching Shen Wan’s cheerful, almost silly figure disappearing into the distance, she couldn’t help but worry.

“Is this guy... reliable or not?”

After considering it for a moment, she turned and walked off—not toward her own quarters, but in another direction.

As for Shen Wan, once he returned to his own courtyard, he was met with another headache.

His entire yard was now practically buried in Da Tuanzi’s droppings.

What had started as a convenient excuse to Elder Wei Zhen had turned into reality.

He smacked his lips ruefully.

“This cursed mouth—everything I say comes true!”

There was nothing for it. Cursing himself for his bad luck, Shen Wan fetched a shovel from the side room and began his day as a humble pooper-scooper.