Chapter 10: Wu Xiaopang
A chubby, round-faced boy with short hair stood trembling before a stern-faced elder in daoist robes, pleading: "Master, please give me another chance! I'll never make mistakes again!"
"Wu Xiaopang, you're no longer a disciple of the Spirit Immortal Sect. Leave at once!" the elder snapped, glancing nervously at Zhang Yun and Mu Sheng approaching up the mountain path.
"But Master, I know I've been late with tribute payments recently. If you just give me more time—"
"Silence!" The elder's face paled as he grabbed the boy's arm. "Come with me!"
"Wait."
Zhang Yun's voice froze the elder mid-step. The Ninth Elder's gaze locked onto the trembling boy, his Celestial Insight activating:
**[Wu Xiaopang]**
**Talent:** Saint-rank (Tyrant's Saint Physique—dormant); Low-grade Defective Spiritual Root (evolvable to Saint-rank King's Root)
**Realm:** Qi Refining Stage 1
**Flaws:**
Saint-rank potential unawakened
Cultivation method concentrates qi in vulnerable neck meridian
…
**Recommendation:** Awaken Tyrant's Saint Physique with Tyrant's True Qi; replace current cultivation method…
Zhang Yun's eyes widened. Another Saint-rank talent!
Mu Sheng scowled, recognizing the implication of the elder's extortion. "Ninth Elder, this is internal sect business. We'll handle it."
Ignoring him, Zhang Yun addressed the trembling boy: "Wu Xiaopang, would you like to join my Ninth Peak?"
The boy blinked tearfully. "Y-you want me… as your disciple?"
"Formally," Zhang Yun confirmed. "You'll be my second disciple."
Mu Sheng's jaw tightened. "Ninth Elder, meddling in our affairs will displease the sect master!"
"Meddling?" Zhang Yun scoffed. "I'm recruiting talent. Your corruption isn't my concern."
Wu Xiaopang fell to his knees. "I accept! Master, please guide me!"
As the boy kowtowed, memories flooded him—childhood terror of a mountain beast, the golden-armored cultivator who'd saved him, years of menial labor to afford bribes for subpar training. This unexpected chance felt like divine intervention.
"Go to Ninth Peak," Zhang Yun instructed warmly. "Your senior brother awaits."
The boy scampered off, hope reignited.
Sect Master's Hall
The atmosphere turned glacial as a black-garbed cultivator entered, his aura pressing down like mountain stones. Zhang Yun's breath caught—this was another Nascent Soul expert.
"Elder Nan Shan," the sect master greeted coolly, dispelling the pressure with a wave. "You forget courtesy in another's domain."
The newcomer laughed, gold embroidery on his robe glinting. "Merely testing your juniors' mettle, Spirit Immortal Daoist. I am Nan Shan, current master of the Southern Mountain Sect."
His gaze swept the assembled elders, lingering on Zhang Yun. "I've come to discuss our… shared interests."