Chapter 280: Branch (Part 1)

As soon as Minghui cried out, the Golden Hall began to sway precariously, trembling everywhere and emitting bursts of spiritual light. His expression was one of terror, knowing that the Golden Core cultivator he had connected with would surely hear him. He quickly cried out:

“Senior, please spare my life! Senior, please spare my life! Minghui is a disciple of Jinlian Mahaprajna, and the Lotus Sect is a Dharma Aspect lineage. I only beg you to spare this humble monk, and I will never again step foot on the lake!”

The Golden Hall swayed, then slowly stabilized. Minghui performed a profound bow in the air for a long time before daring to stand up and fly away a considerable distance.

Minghui tested his newly regrown arm and glanced into the Golden Hall artifact. He saw a dazzling mass of colorful light rising and falling. His severed arm had already dissolved into a pool of white water, and the Golden Hall creaked as if under immense pressure. The handsome men and dancers trapped inside shrieked and cried out, like ants on a hot pan.

“What a pity!”

These individuals had been collected by Minghui from all over the northern regions, representing various styles and costing him considerable effort. Seeing that they were about to be scalded to death by the colorful light, Minghui cursed under his breath and declared:

“Abandon your mortal bodies and come to my temple! Achieving Mahaprajna is within reach, and once I establish a Pure Land, you will all find happiness there!”

He then lifted the Golden Hall above his head, opened his mouth wide, revealing his pristine white teeth and pink tongue and lips. Saliva glistened like dew, faintly emitting a strange fragrance.

He shook it vigorously, and instantly, a multitude of nail-sized figures tumbled down, falling into his mouth. Minghui’s immaculate white teeth gnashed together, sending severed limbs and minced flesh flying. Streaks of bright red flowed across his tender lips, yet the attendants within the hall above were ecstatic, eagerly leaping into his mouth.

It was several tens of breaths before Minghui licked his lips, saying contentedly:

“First, I must replenish my vital energy, then I’ll go back and ask Mahaprajna if I can keep this Golden Hall.”

Minghui glanced fearfully in the direction of Lijingshan, not even daring to think of Li Qinghong. He had just passed through a life-and-death ordeal, and his heart was filled with extreme dread. He secretly mused:

“This Li family is likely backed by some Venerable I’ve never even heard of. I must return and inquire with my master. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

It was not until Minghui scurried away like a stray dog that the turmoil finally subsided. Below Yuting Mountain, only a crimson stain remained, with various filth covering everything from doorsteps to stairs. Several neighbors worked together to clean up the mess on the ground, then each shivered and returned home.

Yuting Mountain had long been under the An family’s rule, only recently coming under the Li family. The common people were accustomed to hardship. The demonic cultivator Murong Xia hadn't stirred up much trouble; the death of over a hundred people was far less significant in their eyes than the good days they now enjoyed under the Li family. They would merely ask who had died when they met, and sigh, “What a pity, these are rare good days.”

Li Yuanjiao immersed himself in the various matters of Wutu Mountain, while Li Yuanping took over family affairs, gradually becoming busy. He held a vermilion brush, lightly marking the wooden slips before him.

A congenital illness made Li Yuanping appear somewhat frail. His eyebrows were always furrowed, as if countless heavy concerns weighed on his mind, hard to let go. Even sitting in the most prominent and honored seat in the courtyard, there was an air of apprehension about him.

“This year’s harvest is better, so there should be fewer losses,” he murmured to himself.

Li Yuanping murmured this internally, then looked at the middle-aged man attending him at his side and said gently:

“Clan Uncle, you have served in the Clan Rectification Hall for many years. As I am new to managing the family, I ask for your extensive guidance.”

The elder beside him had sunken eyes, temples streaked with white, and a withered, gaunt appearance. Yet, his clothes were meticulously tidy. He was precisely the old man, Li Xiewen, who had managed the family under Li Xuanxuan years ago, the son of Li Yesheng, and was now nearly fifty years old.

People from the northern foothills of Dali Mountain matured early, marrying and having children by twelve or thirteen, and typically lived only to their forties or fifties. Li Xiewen, having no cultivation, was at an age where he might well be lying in bed awaiting death. However, his hard work over many years had earned him several spiritual objects for nourishment, making him appear relatively healthy.

Li Pingyi’s suicide had been a devastating blow to the old man, causing him to become gaunt. Although the main family had sent people to console him, it also signified his lineage’s complete fading from the center of power. Li Xiewen's reluctance to relinquish his position was an attempt to salvage what he could.

Hearing Li Yuanping's inquiry, Li Xiewen repeatedly said he dared not presume, and replied respectfully:

“This old man has served in the Clan Rectification Hall for many years, which merely means I am more observant. I would not dare speak of guidance.”

Li Yuanping waved his hand, and the old man began to explain:

“Currently, among the non-main lineage Qi Refining cultivators in the family who practice orthodox methods, there are only three: An Zeyan at Qi Refining seventh level, Chen Donghe at Qi Refining fourth level, and Tian Youdao at Qi Refining first level. As for miscellaneous Qi cultivators, there are Li Qiuyang and Old Man Ren. Miscellaneous Qi cultivators merely bear the name of Qi Refining; they are largely inconsequential.”

“The remaining are two at Fetal Breath peak, three at Fetal Breath fifth layer (Jade Capital Wheel), ten at Fetal Breath fourth layer, and below that, one hundred and fifteen minor Fetal Breath cultivators, most of whom are unproductive old fellows.”

Li Yuanping nodded slightly. Li Xiewen continued:

“The Clan Rectification Hall itself has two Fetal Breath fifth layer cultivators, three Fetal Breath fourth layer cultivators, and countless below fourth layer, including mortal scouts. Although there are many cultivators of other surnames in the family, only a handful are truly noteworthy.”

Li Yuanping granted him a seat and, after the servant brought tea, he spoke:

“Please, Clan Uncle, enlighten me further.”

Li Xiewen expressed his thanks, his expression serene, and said respectfully:

“The most influential figure is Lady Dou of the Dou family. She is at Fetal Breath peak cultivation, with many followers, like a raging fire over oil. Although the Dou family doesn't have the title of a prominent clan, they possess the substance of one, owning private spirit fields and establishing connections across all levels; they are truly formidable.”

Li Yuanping shifted the tea on the table, silently observing Li Xiewen. Li Xiewen, seemingly oblivious, shook his head and pointed to Dou Yi, who was sitting below, cowering and seeming as if he wanted to burrow into the ground. He continued:

“Dou family members have already been placed by your side, which shows their reach.”

Li Yuanping exhaled, then let out a hearty laugh, replying:

“I am already aware of the Dou family’s affairs.”

Dou Yi, who was sitting below, actually possessed cultivation, but he was timid in front of Lady Dou and Li Yuanping. Being pointed out by a mortal old man, anger immediately flared in his heart. He secretly raised his head, only to see Li Yuanping staring directly at him, and quickly lowered his head again.

Li Xiewen nodded silently and cupped his hands respectfully, saying:

“The Chen family, relying on Chen Donghe, has always been at the forefront of prominent clans, respected by all. Old Master Chen is low-key and never ostentatious. However, the Chen family has a young disciple named Chen Mufeng, currently seventeen years old and already at Fetal Breath fourth layer. He is a disciple of Li Qiuyang, possesses excellent talent, and is highly worthy of promotion.”

“Good.”

Li Yuanping nodded with a smile. Li Xiewen’s old face, full of wrinkles, spoke softly:

“As for the other families: the Tian family operates externally, the Liu family is in decline, the Xu family has few descendants, and the various branches of the Ren family are at odds. Only a few individuals, such as Tian Zhongqing and Xu Gongming, are worth noting; the rest are mediocre and not suitable for important tasks.”

Li Yuanping nodded in realization, asked a few more questions about family matters, then clasped Li Xiewen’s hand and said earnestly:

“I am young and inexperienced. I truly hope Clan Uncle will guide me extensively in family affairs.”

Li Xiewen naturally agreed repeatedly and soon withdrew. Li Yuanping sat back down, his pale fingers picking up the jade cup on the table. He looked at Dou Yi, who was still sitting below, and smiled:

“Uncle Xiewen managed the family under my father for many years. It’s just a pity his health is weak, otherwise I would entrust him with important responsibilities.”

He then picked up the wooden slips and read them carefully. Having just seen Li Xiewen off, a clan soldier reported respectfully:

“Young Master, the Madam has arrived.”