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Chapter 50: Cold-Blooded Skepticism Amidst Rising Mist

  Inside the Hall of Affairs, the atmosphere was even more dilapidated than the exterior suggested.

  A middle-aged scholar in a cyan robe, clean-shaven and refined, sat behind a desk, engrossed in a bamboo scroll. He didn't even look up when Chen Gensheng entered. It was only when Li Simin’s thick aura of corpse-qi and resentment filled the room that his hand momentarily froze.

  The scholar looked up with warm, gentle eyes that held the specific elegance of a literati. His cultivation level appeared to be one minor stage higher than Gensheng’s.

  "Fellow Daoist, please, have a seat."

  He stood and offered a courteous gesture. His gaze swept over Gensheng and landed on Li Simin, a flicker of genuine fascination and curiosity crossing his face.

  "I am Zhang Cuizhan, an Executive Elder of this sect. May I ask... is this lady your attendant corpse-puppet?"

  His tone was polite, devoid of any prejudice toward the dark arts.

  "Yes," Gensheng replied succinctly.

  "Marvelous!" Zhang Cuizhan clapped his hands in admiration. "A Foundation-stage Dao-body with resentment so concentrated it refuses to dissipate. The brilliance of your refining technique is the finest I have seen in my life. For one so young to possess such mastery... truly, a hero emerges from youth. Might I know your name?"

  "Chen Gensheng."

  "Fellow Daoist Chen, have you come to join our sect?" Zhang sat back down.

  Gensheng nodded.

  "That is wonderful news!" Zhang beamed. "The True Heaven-Valve Sect is in dire need of talent. With your early-stage Foundation cultivation, you may immediately take the position of an Elder. The sect provides twenty mid-grade spirit stones annually as a stipend, and you will have full access to the scriptures in our library."

  He paused, his tone shifting. "However, an Elder has obligations. I see you are well-versed in the way of corpses. We happen to lack a teacher for that path. Would you be willing to condescend to instruct our disciples?"

  Teach? Instruct them on how to refine corpses? Gensheng’s brow furrowed.

  Seeing his hesitation, Zhang chuckled self-deprecatingly. He pointed at the holes in the roof where light leaked through. "Don't let the appearance fool you. To be blunt, the True Heaven-Valve Sect is the 'hound' and 'scapegoat' for the major righteous sects. We do the dirty work they find beneath them; we strike the blows they cannot afford to be seen dealing—provided we can survive the backlash. They eat the meat, and we follow behind to lap up the dregs."

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  He spoke with startling honesty. "Our gates look humble and our disciples few, but our resources are far from lacking. In the Central Plains, those wealthier than us can be counted on ten fingers. It’s just that our reputation... is less than pleasant. That’s why few are willing to come."

  Zhang shrugged helplessly. "Including you, there are now seven Foundation Elders. We have about seven hundred disciples. Both the Sect Master and the Grand Elder are at the Golden Core stage, but they stay in seclusion year-round. You’ll rarely see them."

  This sect seemed tailor-made for Gensheng. Low-profile, wealthy, no micro-management, and a place to learn.

  "I accept."

  "Excellent!" Zhang slammed his hand on the desk, digging a black iron token out of a pile of messy documents. "This is your identity token. As for your cave-dwelling..."

  Zhang pondered for a moment. "Did the disciple at the gate mention a vacancy? In the back mountain, there is a Spirit Herb Garden. It was managed by an Elder surnamed Lee. Word has it he exhausted his lifespan in a fight and met his end recently. That garden contains over eighty species of spiritual plants, many of them rare. Your job is simply to look after them—water them, pull a few weeds. Aside from the portion owed to the sect, the rest of the yield belongs to the presiding Elder."

  "It’s a legendary fat position. Countless eyes are on it. I’ll take the liberty of granting it to you as a welcoming gift!"

  When Gensheng followed Zhang Cuizhan to the so-called Spirit Herb Garden, he realized exactly how "fat" this position was.

  The entire back mountain was shrouded in a pale green barrier. Stepping through, he was hit by a wave of spiritual energy so dense it was almost a mist. Medicine fields stretched out in neat rows, shimmering with spiritual light. Over eighty species of plants turned the valley into a multicolored paradise.

  This was no mere garden; it was a treasure trove. When he was a servant in Red Maple Valley, he wouldn't have dared to dream of such a sight.

  "Well?" Zhang stood with his hands behind his back, looking pleased. "Elder Chen, is this cave-dwelling to your liking?"

  Gensheng plucked an inconspicuous weed-like plant from the soil. It was Qi-Condensing Grass, a primary ingredient for the lowest-grade Qi-Gathering Pills. In the Abode of Ten Thousand Pills, a single stalk would sell for at least five low-grade stones. Here, it grew like common grass by the roadside.

  The sheer scale of this "lucky break" made his head spin. Every time luck seems to strike, there is usually a lethal hook hidden behind it.

  Zhang maintained his scholarly, polite demeanor. "The other Elders have their own duties and cannot leave them. You seem to be a man who enjoys quiet; this garden fits your temperament perfectly."

  He lowered his voice, sounding sincere. "You've seen our situation. We are what we are. If you leave the sect gates and other cultivators learn you are from the True Heaven-Valve Sect, they will inevitably whisper behind your back. When that time comes, I hope you won't take it to heart."

  He spoke so earnestly, appearing for all the world like a loyal elder burdened by a poor reputation.

  "I understand," Gensheng replied, asking no more.

  Zhang smiled, seemingly relieved. "Here is the control jade for the barrier. No one will disturb your cultivation unless it’s urgent. I shall take my leave then."

  He handed over a green jade plaque, offered a respectful bow, and walked back toward the mountain exit.

  Only when the scholar’s silhouette completely vanished behind the light of the barrier did Li Simin drift silently to Gensheng’s side.

  "Simin," he whispered. "Do you trust him?"

  Li Simin’s hollow eyes offered no answer.

  "Neither do I."

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