The old man took a savage bite of his Xun rabbit leg.
He lifted an eyelid and pointed across the seventh floor, at two direct disciples earnestly browsing the shelves:
"See them?
Both sent here by their masters, with recommendations in hand, to select their methods.
So what's wrong with you? Head caught in a door? Insisting on asking ME?
What is it — you're a direct disciple, and your master doesn't bother with you?"
Her master... Since their single meeting after the Thousand-Step Stairs, her bargain of a master had been missing for days on end. The heavens only knew where the woman was off gallivanting.
Ning Ruan tugged the corner of her mouth and nodded earnestly. "She doesn't bother."
The old man finally raised his head and looked at her properly, voice dropping:
"Not even wearing the direct-disciple uniform... Don't tell me you're another one of that Liu bastard's precious students?"
Ning Ruan nodded.
And in the same motion, drew from her storage space a jar of fine wine brewed personally by Eldest Dad, offering it up:
"Senior. Meat without wine is flavor cut in half."
"Hm???" The old man's nose twitched. He snatched the jar with blinding speed and broke the seal.
Waves of rich aroma instantly flooded the entire seventh floor.
Even the two direct disciples browsing methods in the distance couldn't help glancing over.
The old man's pupils dilated. He hoisted the jar and drank deep.
Then stared at Ning Ruan in disbelief:
"Little girl — this wouldn't be brewed from Divine Phantasm Fruit, would it?
And by the taste of it, Divine Phantasm Fruit aged eight hundred years at the very least."
Ning Ruan nodded firmly.
Her hand dipped again — and a second jar appeared before the old man:
"So, Senior. Recommend me one?"
The old man's eyeballs nearly fell out of their sockets:
"Wait. Doesn't that little Liu bastard have exactly one female disciple?
The one they say is the castoff bloodline the Li Clan didn't want?
Little girl, where did you get two jars of wine like this? How could YOU possibly obtain Divine Phantasm Fruit?"
A daughter abandoned by her own clan — producing treasures of this caliber?
Ning Ruan blinked, waved her small hand — and a third jar thumped down in front of the old man.
After a long moment of catatonia, the old man swallowed hard, and — like a vending machine receiving payment — began dispensing names of cultivation methods:
"The Heaven Mystery Sword Classic.
The Image-Retaining Sword Classic.
The Soundless Sword Heart Method.
Or select an elemental heart method matching your awakened element."
Ning Ruan: ...
"Senior. I am a light-element spirit master."
What she wanted was a LIGHT-ELEMENT method.
As for the sword cultivator's path... hers had been arranged, top to bottom, a long time ago.
The old man, savoring his wine, lifted an eyelid at her:
"A light-element spirit master. Then what's the sword casket for?"
Ning Ruan pressed her lips together.
And silently produced one more jar of wine.
The old man: ...
"...The Plain Heart Method. As your core cultivation method.
It comes with a full suite of companion healing arts, but you may take only one volume today. Return in ten days for the rest."
Ning Ruan's eyes curved into smiling crescents. "Many thanks, Senior."
She'd known it.
In worlds like this one, of any ten old grandpas guarding a library, nine were hidden titans.
Blue Star's webnovels had been unanimous on this point.
Ning Ruan quickly located the jade slip of the Plain Heart Method.
The old man imprinted it for her with brisk efficiency:
"Little girl. Honestly, now. You've got more of this wine, don't you?"
Ning Ruan looked up, deeply content. "A tiny bit. Just a tiny bit."
Not that she could count how much, anyway.
Before she'd left the village, the crowd of dads had stuffed her with over a dozen storage rings.
Every single one packed to the brim.
To say nothing of her own storage belt, which was very nearly full too.
Method in hand, Ning Ruan promptly left the Scripture Pavilion.
Which meant, naturally, that she did not see —
the wine-drinking old man suddenly lift his head, gaze fixed on a distant point, and begin transmitting his voice:
"That new little disciple the Liu bastard picked up — what exactly is her background?"
"This seat cannot see through her either. But she triggered the Thunder Illusion Realm — which proves, at minimum, that she is certainly a sword cultivator. Merely a sword cultivator of a type this seat cannot identify."
"And her identity? A castoff Li Clan daughter could never produce eight-hundred-year Divine Phantasm Fruit wine."
"...It is not only the wine. The girl spends like water.
One might even say... like a prodigal.
This seat learned only two days ago that she handed the Xueyang Peak lot an entire heap of lightning-struck wood — every piece of it carved into household utensils..."
The old man: ...
"...Castoff daughter... castoff, my foot. Never mind. Let her be. Every one of the eight disciples that little Liu bastard has collected is the same breed of creature anyway..."
"As the Martial Granduncle decrees."
...
Ning "The Prodigal" Ruan was on her way back to Invincible Peak.
When a certain someone, fresh from a challenge-stage match, hitched a ride.
"Little Sister, you are truly my second parents. Without you, where would I be picking up all these free spirit stones?"
Looking down at the countless tear-filled eyes glaring up at the two of them, Ning Ruan quietly accelerated, urging the Scarlet Feather Kite to fly just a little faster.
"Fourth Senior Brother, I predict that sooner or later, you're getting beaten up."
By now, Pei Jingyu was known to practically every soul in the Crimson Heaven Sect.
Armed with the skill of having no shame whatsoever —
when everyone assumed his first win was a fluke and his real strength mediocre, he won again.
Windfall.
When everyone acknowledged his strength and bet on him to win, he played weak and lost.
Windfall.
When everyone switched to betting against him, he won again.
Windfall.
The other disciples couldn't even ride his coattails, because every match he had a different disciple place his bets for him.
In short: these past days, Pei Jingyu had been bouncing back and forth between winning and losing.
And profiting enormously every single time.
By this point,
not one person was still foolish enough to believe his strength was lacking.
Winning at will and losing at will — exactly how strong did a man have to be to do that?
Acknowledging his strength was one thing.
Hating him down to the marrow was also entirely real.
Every time Pei Jingyu made a killing, another crop of poor, innocent disciples lost everything they owned.
Pei Jingyu's grin was insolence itself:
"Let them beat me! That might even mean another payday.
Tsk, tsk — I hear the Mission Hall's job listings are getting snatched up faster than they can post them.
Look at the contribution I'm making to this sect, Little Sister. Without me, would everyone be running missions and earning contribution points with such enthusiasm?
Honestly, the sect ought to issue me a commendation."
Ning Ruan: ...
Wonderful.
The old Fourth Senior Brother — the one who refused to move a muscle and slept standing up — was nowhere to be found.
The new Fourth Senior Brother was certainly more industrious.
He was also considerably more of a dog.
...
Pei Jingyu's commendation never came.
The moment they returned to Invincible Peak.
The Spirit Martial Pavilion's ruling arrived instead: a competition ban.
Pei Jingyu was barred from all challenge-stage matches until the Pavilion saw fit to lift the order.
The first disciple banned from competition in the Crimson Heaven Sect's entire history.
"They can't take a loss! The Spirit Martial Pavilion simply cannot take a loss!
I broke not one rule — on what grounds do they ban me?
Doesn't the sect ENCOURAGE disciples to spar more?"
Ning Ruan: ...
Luo Yue: ...
The Fifth and Seventh Senior Brothers, fully recovered thanks to the Qingxuan Fruits: ...