After leaving Qing Chen’s courtyard, I couldn’t help but ask the second senior brother, “Second Senior Brother, why does Master seem to scold you?”
The second senior brother smirked slightly, his expression unreadable as he replied, “Master wasn’t scolding me. He was protecting me.”
Protecting him? What did he mean? I didn’t fully understand the dynamic between them.
Just as I was pondering the relationship between Qing Chen and the second senior brother, the latter led me past the third senior brother’s courtyard. I spotted a young junior disciple carefully balancing a tray of tea. When the second senior brother saw me watching, his gaze froze for a brief moment. There was an expression in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place—some mix of hesitation and restraint. Then, he quickly looked away.
I suddenly had a realization.
Could it be…?
This wasn’t just about seniority—this was about something deeper. The second senior brother’s loyalty toward Qing Chen wasn’t mere duty—it bordered on reverence.
Thinking it over carefully, I realized that this reverence was like the blind adoration of someone infatuated. If that was truly the case, it made perfect sense why he always defended Qing Chen so adamantly.
It felt like the foundations of my understanding, built over hundreds of years, were suddenly shaken. For someone who had endured countless dangers, I felt strangely vulnerable in that moment. It was as though I had plunged into a great whirlpool, left to drift without direction.
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to calm down. Whatever this dynamic was, it wasn’t something I could involve myself in—not yet, at least.
“Hey, little one.”
I turned to see a mountain disciple calling out. He seemed to be in his teens, but his demeanor was one of authority. His green robes were neatly tied at the waist, and he carried a bundle of herbs under one arm. When he noticed me, he lowered his gaze slightly, a faint smile on his lips.
But just as I prepared to greet him, I was reminded of my current identity. I wasn’t a ginseng spirit anymore—I was just a small human child. There was no reason anyone would fear me.
“You’re new here,” he said casually. Yet for some reason, I felt a strange sense of unease.
As I watched him walk away, I found myself reflecting on my predicament. Once, I had been a highly sought-after treasure, revered and feared by all. But here, among these immortal disciples, I was nothing more than an ordinary child. It was as though my past self had been erased entirely.
Even as a ginseng spirit, I had never been this insignificant. This place… this sect… was like a cage, and I was trapped within it.
I clenched my fists. If I wanted to survive, I would have to find a way to earn their trust—or at least stay unnoticed long enough to regain my strength. Until then, I would remain patient.
“We, the disciples of the Jade Pearl Sect, have come seeking the revered immortal, Qing Chen. Do you know where he resides?”
Qing Chen’s face remained calm as he looked at this group of intruders. Without saying a word, he gave a faint glance toward their leader. The Jade Pearl Sect was notorious for its arrogance, and it was said that they often imposed on others in the name of righteousness. This group had concealed themselves deep in the forest, yet now they stood boldly in the open, as if they believed the entire mountain belonged to them.
It seemed these disciples believed they had the strength to challenge Qing Chen’s mountain. Their confident posturing was almost laughable, yet Qing Chen’s indifferent demeanor remained unchanged.
I stood quietly by the gate, unsure of how to react. These people looked entirely out of place in this serene sect, their expressions filled with pomp and self-importance.
“Our master has come to exchange teachings,” their leader declared with a haughty tone, “and to discuss the Dao. We request an audience with your master.”
For a brief moment, I saw Qing Chen’s gaze flicker slightly toward the distant horizon, his attention wandering as though he were entirely uninterested. I could only imagine how trivial these self-important visitors must have seemed to him.
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