Chapter 14: Causing Trouble at the Cloud Ascending Sect’s Gates; The Young Maiden Mengli Becomes Master’s Wife

In front of the Cloud-Ascending Pavilion’s mountain gate, two elders in white stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, while dozens of men and women in white lined up on either side.

“Senior Brother Zhou, I sense your inner energy is rather unstable. Were you injured, perhaps?”

A few disciples nearby, privy to the situation, could not help but stifle their laughter as soon as the elder’s words fell.

Zhou Tong glared at them, coughed twice, and said, “An old injury has flared up again, Junior Brother Wang. No need for concern.”

“Oh?” Wang Lun eyed Zhou Tong suspiciously. “Senior Brother Zhou, at your age, you really shouldn’t take on such strenuous tasks. Recruiting new disciples is a tough job—best left to the younger generation.”

“Heh, rest easy, Junior Brother Wang. I swear I’ll never step beyond the mountain gate again,” Zhou Tong said with an awkward chuckle. “It’s easy to fend off open attacks, but fools are impossible to guard against. Better to stay in.”

“They’re here!”

Though Wang Lun didn’t quite grasp Zhou Tong’s meaning, he quickly turned his gaze to see five or six carriages approaching, and his spirits lifted.

As the carriages drew to a halt, dozens of boys and girls, no more than eight or nine years old, began climbing down one after another.

“Heh, not bad at all. Senior Brother Zhou, you truly get things done. So many promising seedlings this year!” Wang Lun’s face broke into a broad grin as he watched the children file out. Just as he was about to heap on the praise, he suddenly froze.

Thud.

Thud.

Shuai Ge leapt eagerly from a carriage, landing with such force that the ground trembled.

Gulp.

“Senior Brother Zhou, isn’t this child’s development a bit… premature?” Wang Lun rubbed his eyes, wondering if age was finally clouding his vision.

“Ahem, these two don’t count! They came to look for someone, and I simply brought them along,” Zhou Tong said, feeling suddenly awkward as he caught sight of Qian Jin and his companion, unconsciously taking two steps back.

“Whew, scared me half to death,” Wang Lun exhaled with relief. “For a moment, I thought all the children these days were so precocious.”

Qian Jin and his companion, upon disembarking, looked around curiously, taking in their surroundings.

“This mountain gate is truly magnificent—puts even the holy grounds of my Xuantian Sect to shame!” Qian Jin couldn’t help but exclaim.

“And the fairies here are all beautiful,” Shuai Ge added, staring unabashedly at a female disciple, saliva pooling at his feet.

“Qian Jin, come here,” Zhou Tong called, waving him over. Qian Jin hurried over, startling Zhou Tong into a sudden leap backward.

“Wow! Uncle Zhou’s reflexes are sharp!” The younger disciples around them couldn’t help but shower praise upon seeing Zhou Tong react so nimbly.

‘You little rascal! If you throw yourself into my arms and cry in front of everyone again, I’ll have no face left in this world,’ Zhou Tong fumed, his face flushing red. Still, as a man of standing, he maintained his composure in front of the juniors and forced a calm tone.

“I’ve already sent someone to notify Junior Sister Wanrong. If she doesn’t recognize you, the rules of Cloud-Ascending Pavilion will not be lenient.”

Qian Jin was unconcerned. “Heh, my mistress dotes on me. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize me.”

Seeing Qian Jin so at ease, Zhou Tong frowned, now mostly convinced by his words.

“Where is she? Where is she?”

Suddenly, a clear and melodious voice, like the song of an oriole, rang out. A girl in white, about fifteen or sixteen, came running over, a wooden hairpin in her hand.

“Brother Qian, I think something’s off. Should we make a run for it?” Shuai Ge whispered, thinking he was being discreet.

“Hm?” Zhou Tong and the others narrowed their eyes, their expressions turning grim.

“I remember my mistress wasn’t that young,” Qian Jin muttered, “Could she have cultivated some rejuvenation technique?”

“It’s you!” The girl reached the gate, instantly recognizing Qian Jin and his companion—their appearances were just too distinctive.

‘No matter! I’ll play the pitiful card. Surely my mistress won’t hold it against me!’

“Boo hoo hoo—”

“Mistress! I’ve searched so bitterly for you, I nearly couldn’t find you. Boo hoo hoo—”

Qian Jin threw himself into the girl’s arms, clinging to her as he “sobbed uncontrollably.”

The girl was stunned on the spot, frozen in disbelief. Around them, disciples’ jaws dropped wide enough to swallow an ox, while Zhou Tong’s mouth twitched violently.

“Mistress—my master starved to death, and I had to beg all the way here! Boo hoo hoo—” Qian Jin theatrically wiped his eyes on the girl’s sleeve, giving the scene a real air of tragic parting.

“Ah—!” The girl finally snapped back to herself, letting out a heart-wrenching scream as her face flushed crimson, the color spreading to her very ears.

“Scoundrel! Let go of me—”

She struggled desperately, trying to throw Qian Jin off, but his grip was too tight to break.

“Hurry! Get him off Meng Li!” Zhou Tong was the first to react, calling disciples to pull Qian Jin away.

“Mistress! Don’t you recognize me? I’m your little Qian Qian!” Qian Jin cried, struggling as he clung to his “beloved mistress.”

“You shameless scoundrel! First you stole my storage pouch, and now—” Meng Li’s eyes brimmed with tears of humiliation and anger as she glared at Qian Jin.

“Mistress! Don’t you remember? When I was little, you used to bathe me! There’s a birthmark on my backside—let me show you!” Qian Jin, now genuinely distressed, fumbled to pull down his pants to prove his identity.

“Hold him down! Hold him down! Outrageous—such insolence at the very gate of Cloud-Ascending Pavilion! This is beyond all reason!” Zhou Tong could bear it no longer. In all his years, he’d never seen anyone so reckless as to publicly harass a female disciple at their mountain gate—this was a humiliation beyond compare.

“You shameless scoundrel! Have you no shame?”

“Boo hoo hoo—I’ll never be able to face anyone again!” Meng Li finally broke, crouching on the ground with her face buried in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. To be disgraced before so many of her peers—how could an unmarried girl ever hope to marry now?

“Tie those two up and take them to the Disciplinary Hall!”

“Mistress! How could you be so heartless? My master truly misjudged you! Boo hoo hoo—”

As Qian Jin and his companion were dragged away, Zhou Tong finally breathed a sigh of relief. He walked over to Meng Li, patted her on the shoulder, and asked, “Why are you here? Where’s your master?”

Meng Li raised her tear-streaked face, sniffling, “Master is in closed-door alchemy. I just wanted to come see for myself, but I never expected—boo hoo hoo—”

Her words trailed off as grief overtook her again, and she buried her head, sobbing.

“Ah, poor child,” Zhou Tong sighed, patting her gently on the shoulder. He knew too well what it felt like to be shamed so deeply. Even at one hundred and eighty years old, he still struggled to bear it—how much harder must it be for a girl of fifteen or sixteen?

“You little brat! Daring to make a fool of me—just wait till you get to the Disciplinary Hall, you’ll regret it!”