Chapter 97: This young man is far too calculating!

To Li Maolin, this behavior—teaching the true Dao without accepting disciples—seemed utterly irrational; any normal cultivator would sense something was off (even a shaman charging for common spells to balance karma), but to Feng Xue, this was perfectly right.

Bodhi Patriarch told Sun Wukong this! Ma Yu told Guo Jing this! Feng Qingyang told Linghu Chong this! Pu Zhi told Zhang Xiaofan this! Great Expansion Divine Lord told Han Li this! Wang Yaozu and Li Muxuan told them this! Even Yao Lao and Xiao Yan started out saying this!

Since childhood, from myths to wuxia, from wuxia to xianxia, even to comics, animations, and fantasy novels—he’d seen countless variations, but undeniably, those great masters all loved this style.

To this elder, if he could see through his disguise, he must already have a sect, so he couldn’t formally take disciples; teaching him a few techniques for the sake of karma or rules was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?

Besides, no matter if this elder was a great demon’s shed skin or an ancient true immortal, he was undeniably a powerhouse. He’d said it himself—how could Feng Xue possibly object? If he called himself a god, then whether he was or not, to Feng Xue, he was.

If there’s something to learn, learn it. Worst case, master it and leave with a stroke of luck.

Feng Xue understood clearly, but Li Maolin was now stuck—he’d seemed so sharp a young man, why had he suddenly turned into a fool? Do you really believe this? Didn’t your sect teach you to guard against scams?

“Wait—he’s from the Shenshao Sect? That’s the sect most famous for conning people over the past thousand years! They made the entire Northern Song Dynasty pour its national resources into their coffers… damn! I get it now!”

Li Maolin’s heart tightened—he instantly realized: this wasn’t ignorance. This kid was treating him like a gullible fool!

“Damn, no wonder he’s the direct heir of the Shenshao Sect, the ones who conned an entire dynasty’s destiny! He’s turning my own trick against me—he wants to drain me dry! So my ‘not calling him master’ remark? That actually suited his plan perfectly?”

Li Maolin raised his guard against Feng Xue by two full levels—this young man was far too calculating!

No, not just this young man—his entire sect was full of old foxes, deliberately assigning two naive, innocent bodyguards to make this kid look full of flaws, all to lull others into lowering their guard, making them think he was a rich, clueless fool. Last night’s thunder art was probably staged to create a reckless persona… damn, no wonder this sect once produced a true god-level phantom spirit! Such cunning!

But then Li Maolin reconsidered, and relaxed.

Calculating is good.

Let him try to con me.

It’s just secret techniques and resources—he can have them.

Once I pass through the Human Tribulation, I’ll make him spit back every last bit.

“No, don’t get arrogant—he’s from the Shenshao Sect. Though they’ve been absent for ages, their Jade Emperor–Heavenly Court system is still widely revered by the common folk. No one knows if ‘that one’ phantom spirit still lives—if he does, even after passing the Human Tribulation, I might still not be his match…”

Resetting his mindset, Li Maolin’s thoughts turned nimble. No one knew how many schemes had passed between them in those few moments—only that, when the middleman returned to fetch workers for installation, the two were smiling at each other.

The middleman didn’t know when this man had arrived, nor did he notice one of his laborers was missing—he simply hurried to Feng Xue’s side, reported progress, and led the group away from the estate.

At this point, Feng Xue no longer cared much about the refrigerator—he merely nodded, signaling the man to proceed, then turned his attention back to Li Maolin:

“May I ask your revered name, Elder?”

“I have no intention of taking you as a disciple, so you needn’t know my true identity. But for convenience, call me Li Xiu.” Li Maolin dared not gamble whether his real name would be remembered a century from now—he made up a false one on the spot.

Feng Xue didn’t mind. Unless the person was famous from his past life, he likely wouldn’t recognize them anyway. He bowed respectfully:

“So it’s Elder Li before me. I am Feng Xue, a hermit cultivator from the countryside, traveling and studying, passing through Lucheng…”

“Hmph…” Li Maolin sneered inwardly—hermit? If all hermits had this kind of insight, my grave would’ve been dug up long ago!

But Feng Xue himself thought clearly: a rich kid pretending to be poor to woo a girl? Get caught? Romantic. A poor kid pretending to be rich? Disgusting. Likewise, if I claim to be a humble hermit and the elder doesn’t believe me, he’ll just think I’m modest. If I’m later exposed, I never lied. But if I fabricate some grand identity and get caught? That’s a disaster.

Neither had any intention of probing further on this point. After exchanging names, they moved straight to the main matter.

Li Maolin had expected to be drained dry, but by the time he’d traveled the world, the Shenshao Sect had become nothing but legend. Its thunder art’s essence had been absorbed by the Zhengyi and Qingwei sects. His knowledge of Shenshao was limited to the names of their Dao scriptures and the legend of their only mastered supreme phantom spirit—“Shenshao Yùqīng Wáng”—and its basic principle: “internal alchemy forms the core, external control commands thunder.” Naturally, he didn’t know what Shenshao excelled in or needed. After gathering his words, he said:

“My cultivation methods are varied. What do you wish to learn?”

“Immortality!” Feng Xue answered without hesitation. Li Maolin’s body trembled—

“Is this kid after my ‘Corpse Liberation Immortal’ method? But why? Though Shenshao has a bad reputation, it’s still a righteous sect. They don’t fear being hunted in the underworld after switching to Ghost Immortality—why would they learn this heretical path that breaks the cycle of rebirth? Is he serious? Or testing me?”

Li Maolin pondered inwardly, but aloud he said:

“The Yangshen method is the true path. No one has achieved it in centuries—not due to human failure, but because Heaven’s Dao has changed. To seek immortality, you must rely on fortune. Even if I taught you my methods, you’d still likely fail.”

Feng Xue thought: “Again—the closer to modern times, the closer to the End Dharma era.” He’d already anticipated this after learning no Yangshen had appeared in centuries, but disappointment still crept in. Still, he had luck—he could acquire resources across worlds—so he didn’t dwell. He lowered his aim: “Then I wish to learn the method of refining primordial energy.”

“You’re certain I’m a demonic cultivator, aren’t you? Even if you want to learn, you can’t ask so bluntly! If I just teach you directly, won’t that confirm I’m a demon?” Li Maolin thought this, for he couldn’t fathom why anyone except a demonic cultivator would need to study primordial energy refinement. But outwardly, he couldn’t say so. After thinking, he replied:

“You’ve already cultivated spiritual power—why are you asking about primordial energy refinement?”

Feng Xue knew the question sounded odd, but he said:

“My inherited teachings require splitting and refining the five-element primordial energies, but the method for splitting has been lost. If you have any related techniques, I beg you to teach me!”

"In the inheritance I received, there is a need to separate and refine the Five Elements' primordial qi, but the method for separation has been lost. If the elder possesses a related technique, I humbly beg your instruction!"

(End of Chapter)