In the Wangyuan Garden, Fu Nian, Yan Lu, and Xue Nu awoke one after another. They exchanged glances, their faces lighting up with unspoken delight. Fu Nian and Yan Lu had both broken through to the Unity of Heaven and Man realm, while Xue Nu had advanced to the mid-tier first-rate level—a formidable force in the jianghu.
"The Emperor's Nectar has washed over your bodies—why aren't you hurrying back to bathe before returning?" Xunzi scolded Fu Nian and Yan Lu. The Emperor's Nectar wasn't something just anyone could claim. The garden's inhabitants had absorbed the lion's share, while those adrift in the air depended on sheer luck.
Fu Nian and Yan Lu glanced at each other, only then noticing the thick layer of black grime coating their skin. They hastily bowed and dashed back to the Little Sage Village like arrows loosed from a bow, eager to scrub away the filth.
Xue Nu spotted the muck on her own body too—it was as if she'd crawled straight out of a swamp. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she fled into her room.
Li Haime still sat in the courtyard, the essence of the Dao swirling around him like a gentle mist. His gains were the greatest of all. This path encompassed everything under heaven, too vast to fully grasp in a single night. Most of it lingered in the depths of his heart, waiting to unfold gradually.
"Such a Dao should serve as the world's teacher," Xunzi murmured. Whether the Hundred Schools acknowledged him mattered little to Xunzi—the Confucians had claimed him, and it cost them nothing but gained them everything. He couldn't help but feel grateful that Beimingzi and Chunan Gong had sent the boy their way. If those two Daoists learned that Wuchenzi's Dao-fusion had summoned the Emperor's Nectar and the echoes of the Great Dao... well, they'd weep rivers. Especially the Daoists—this bounty had been theirs by right, and now it was a gift to a Confucian disciple. Xunzi could already picture Beimingzi hopping mad with rage.
"Remember, from this moment on, Junior Brother Wuchenzi is one of ours—a Confucian." Xunzi strode back into the Little Sage Village, intercepting Fu Nian and Yan Lu just as they prepared to head out. He'd returned early precisely to head them off and seal the deal. Otherwise, what leverage would they have against the Daoists? Better to lock in the affiliation outright: Wuchenzi was Confucian through and through. If the Confucians used their own, what debt was there to repay? None at all—and they wouldn't.
Fu Nian and Yan Lu blinked in stunned silence. Could it really work like that? No wonder the Confucian classics say a family with an elder is like one with a treasure. Right—from today forward, Wuchenzi was theirs, their own martial uncle, blood-bound by the rites. Endorsed by the sect leader himself, apprenticed under Xunzi on behalf of the master.
"I'll notify the disciples at once!" Yan Lu snapped out of it first, rushing off to rally the Little Sage Village's Confucian followers. From there, he'd send riders at full gallop to inform every Confucian disciple across the lands—nail down the claim before anyone could blink. As for the Daoists? Tough luck—they'd sealed their mountains and missed their shot.
"I'll prepare the roster and add him to it." Fu Nian chimed in. Slot your name into the Confucian lineage records? Good luck erasing it. The rolls were etched in stone steles and bound in scrolls. Destroy one, and they'd rebuild it tenfold.
"Did everyone sense it last night?"
In the Confucian Hall of Debate, every disciple in Sanghai City had been summoned. Xunzi, Fu Nian, and Yan Lu—the three pillars—stood at the forefront. Xunzi cut straight to the heart of it.
"We did, sir," the disciples chorused, bowing in unison.
"That was the echoes of the Great Dao and the Emperor's Nectar, drawn forth by our Confucian Grand Master Wuchenzi as he established his path." Xunzi declared.
The disciples froze. Wuchenzi? Wasn't he the Daoist Human Sect's leader? How had he become a Confucian Grand Master?
"Martial Uncle Wuchenzi has always been one of our Grand Masters—your grand-teacher and my master's junior brother," Fu Nian stated with utmost gravity. "Yet he also serves as the Human Sect's leader in the Daoist school."
"We've just consulted the records—it's all there," Yan Lu added, his serene face a mask of unflinching calm. "Before entering Taiyi Mountain for his Daoist cultivation, Martial Uncle Wuchenzi studied the Confucian classic The Tradition under one of our forebears. When that elder's lifespan ended, our uncle sought the Daoist gates instead."
Fu Nian and Xunzi shot him sidelong glances. This Yan Lu's heart is pitch-black—fabricating excuses like that without batting an eye. But they had to admire it. As for which forebear? Heh, Confucians span the world—who are you to know? Anyway, on his deathbed, the elder had forwarded the identity token to the Little Sage Village. A clerical error by the roster-keeper had left it off the rolls—that disciple had been duly punished, and now they'd rectified it.
"The sect leader has already reported this to me," Xunzi continued, "but he bears undeniable responsibility too. Thus, from today, Fu Nian—you shall reflect upon yourself. For three months, no meat or rich fare."
Fu Nian: (Д`)彡┻━┻How is this not following the script? Why am I getting punished too? No wonder the master favors Yan Lu a touch more—they're cut from the same cloth, faces that scream 'trustworthy' while plotting in the shadows, traps layered upon traps.
"Yes, I acknowledge my error. I shall examine myself thrice daily," Fu Nian bowed, accepting the reprimand.
"Yan Lu, handling Junior Brother Wuchenzi's return to the fold falls to you in the coming days." Xunzi glanced at Yan Lu, who stood there placidly—though inwardly, no doubt reveling in Fu Nian's misfortune.
Yan Lu faltered. Can this even be done? Why does the hardest task always land on me?
"Junior Brother, you must escort Martial Uncle Wuchenzi back to the sect. Make amends for the years we've slighted him." Fu Nian piled on. Enjoy your gloating while it lasts.
"Yes, Master, Senior Brother. I will see it done," Yan Lu had no choice but to shoulder it.
"All disciples, prepare the Rite of the Six Yi Dances to welcome our martial uncle home," Fu Nian instructed the assembly.
"As the sect leader commands," the disciples replied. They hadn't quite caught up, but if the leaders called it a lost pearl of the sea, then welcoming it back to the ancestral fold was only right.
Word of the auspicious signs in Sanghai—the three luminaries aligned in the sky—spread like wildfire from the ships of Qi to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. The Daoist Human Sect's leader was a Confucian lost treasure, of Xunzi's generation, now reclaimed by the Confucians.
When the news reached Taiyi Mountain, the Daoists were first dumbfounded, then Beimingzi summoned Xiaomeng.
"Xiaomeng, be honest—did you and Wuchenzi quarrel, is that why you came back alone?" Beimingzi eyed her sternly.
Xiaomeng blinked. Quarrel? With him? As if I'd dare. "What's happened, Master? Has Senior Brother stirred up trouble out there again?" Her gut reaction: her brother had blundered into something big enough to rouse the old man.
"The Confucians claim he's of Xunzi's generation—a lost treasure of theirs. Now they're folding him back into their ranks." Beimingzi thrust a bamboo slip at her.
"Impossible! The Confucians prize propriety above all—how could they stoop to this?" Xiaomeng's first thought: forged intel. Everyone knew the Confucians' obsession with ritual. But the slip... she gaped. It was the Confucian roster of luminaries through the ages—and there was Wuchenzi, listed alongside Xunzi.
"He must've done something massive in Sanghai, forging a debt of karma too vast for them to bear. So they're pulling this stunt to balance the scales against our Daoist claim!" Beimingzi fumed.
"No way... is this the Confucians I know?" Xiaomeng whispered, disbelief warring with the evidence.
"How not? To dodge a karmic debt to Laozi, they once inscribed him on their rolls as a disciple of Kongzi. Even Hui Shi of the School of Names got shoehorned in. You're too young to recall—their dirty tricks aren't new." Beimingzi seethed, pondering what aid Wuchenzi had rendered to warrant such brazen debt-dodging. It had to be something that rightfully belonged to the Daoists, now in Confucian hands. We got robbed.
"Martial Uncle, Wuchenzi has fused with the Dao—drawing the sun, moon, and stars into alignment over Sanghai," Xiaoyaozi burst in with the latest dispatch.
"Damn those immortal-robbing Confucians! It triggered the echoes of the Great Dao and the Emperor's Nectar—letting them reap the harvest without paying up!" Beimingzi pieced it together instantly, though he could only guess the nectar's reach and the legacy's span—how many had benefited?
The very thought stabbed like a knife. The Emperor's Nectar—a single thread could forge an exceptional disciple. And the echoes of the Great Dao... We just lost billions in an instant. Cursed Wuchenzi—why fuse now? Why not back at Taiyi Mountain? I could throttle him.
"Senior Brother fused with the Dao?" Xiaomeng's focus latched onto that. So the Daoist Scripture issue's resolved too. I'm thrilled! No—I need to fuse soon myself.
"Fused or not, tell him to drag his sorry self back here!" Beimingzi spat, brimming with grievance. We hemorrhaged billions, and it's the kind we can't recoup. Infuriating!
Xiaoyaozi sulked too. All of it Human Sect's by right—and now the echoes, the nectar, even half the leader's arse belongs to them. The Human Sect could've eclipsed the Celestial Sect outright, but they'd handed it to the Confucians on a platter. Such a loss, such fury. If only he could best Xunzi—he'd storm their gates himself. Little did he know Fu Nian and Yan Lu had also entered Unity of Heaven and Man; that would've only fueled the blaze.
Among the realm's younger generation, few had touched Unity. Xiaoyaozi lacked one step, Xiaomeng had a toe in the door, Ganie and Weizhuang still trailed a hair's breadth, the Yin-Yang School had just those two, the rest slain. The Mohists had only their Titan. Now the Confucians had birthed two at once—both so young. Count Wuchenzi, and that made three. Half the world's quota, theirs.
Li Haime finally stirred. The Daoist Scripture's hidden perils had vanished, and he'd stepped into Unity of Heaven and Man. His foundations ran deep now, primed for higher realms.
"Master, you're awake!" Xue Nu beamed as he opened his eyes, her face alight with joy.
"You...?" Li Haime studied her, sensing a profound shift. Her skin gleamed smoother, more radiant; she was even more beautiful. But above all, she felt purer, more ethereal—like Xiaomeng.
"Am I prettier now?" Xue Nu touched her cheek, batting her wide eyes at him.
Li Haime nodded.
"It's the Emperor's Nectar. Your Dao-fusion summoned it, and I absorbed most of it—that's why." Xue Nu grinned, explaining. Last night's nectar had flowed mostly to her, for he'd begun by lecturing her on the Dao. Thus, both nectar and echoes had tilted her way.
"Oh~" Li Haime's chest tightened. I want some Emperor's Nectar too! Turns out, no master means no privileges.
"I'm off to bathe—no peeking!" Li Haime glanced at his tattered robes and the clumps of filthy hair. I look like Uncle Beimingzi after a bender.
"It's not like you haven't seen it—who'd bother peeking?" Xue Nu rolled her eyes. Wait... I think he actually hasn't. Slipped out like I do with Xiaomeng.
"When did I ever see?" Li Haime jolted. She really peeked? Didn't peg you for the type, Xue Nu.
"Doesn't matter—just go wash!" Xue Nu's face burned scarlet.
It took Li Haime nearly two hours to get clean. A layer of muck sloughed off onto the floor. Long hair was a nightmare—clumped and greasy, no shampoo in sight. He resorted to hand-scrubbing with soapberries, grinding them slow. Pity I can't whip up scented soap or shampoo. Zero points in穿越 survival skills.
"Master, Mister Yan Lu asks you to visit the Little Sage Village—through the main gate," Xue Nu said.
"Oh." Li Haime figured it was about time to take his leave. The major hurdles cleared, the Confucian trove of Daoist Scriptures pored over—it was indeed time.
He approached the main road outside the Little Sage Village alone. From afar, he spotted Xunzi, Fu Nian, and Yan Lu at the gate, flanked by the Six Yi Dances, the portals flung wide. A visiting lord? King Zhaoxiang of Qi? A quick scan—nothing.
"Greetings, Martial Uncle Xunzi!" Li Haime stepped forward and bowed. At that, the rites and music swelled; the Six Yi Dances swirled into motion.
"Greetings, Martial Uncle Wuchenzi," Fu Nian and Yan Lu bowed deeply.
The dances halted. Xunzi clasped his hand and led him inside. Disciples lined the path, bowing in waves, leaving Li Haime baffled. This welcome's overly grand. And isn't this the Confucian Sage Pavilion? What's a Daoist like me doing there?
"Junior Brother, here's your identity token." In the Sage Pavilion, Xunzi took a verdant jade plaque from Fu Nian and pressed it into his palm.
"My identity token?" Li Haime accepted it in a daze.
"Greetings, Martial Uncle!" Fu Nian and Yan Lu stepped back, performing the full apprentice's bow.
"Greetings, Grand-Teacher!" Every Confucian disciple followed suit.
Li Haime reeled. How did I end up as the Confucians' grand-teacher? And this token—Grand Master Wuchenzi? What gives?
"You may not know, Junior Brother, but the beggar you followed in your youth was actually my martial uncle," Xunzi explained. "After you parted, he returned your token here to the Little Sage Village. We searched endlessly but lost your trail. Only days ago did a disciple mention the description of you as a boy, included with the token." He had a deliberately aged bamboo slip handed over.
Li Haime skimmed it. You sure you're not pranking me? That distressing technique's amateur-hour—Panjiayuan in the capital could fake Zhou relics from last week.East Zhou era, my foot. Feels like last Tuesday.
"I'm grateful for the Confucians' regard, but Wuchenzi has entered the Daoist gates, severing all ties to the mundane world. Thus, I remain solely a disciple of the Daoist Human Sect." Li Haime declined the token and the offered identity.
As he'd once said: enter the Dao, and worldly bonds must be cut. Even if the token rang true, he could only be Daoist. And as for freeloading then welching? Dream on.
Xunzi, Fu Nian, and Yan Lu flushed with awkwardness. Forgot the Daoists' ironclad rule. Misstep. Now they'd have to brainstorm how to square the debt.
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