He looked toward Wen Li, preparing to speak, but she saw exactly what he was thinking. Without a word, she reached out and roughly ripped open Gu Linshu’s collar.
“Don’t you dare look down on my disciple.”
“?!” Master!
Most of Gu Linshu’s collar was pulled down, revealing a large portion of his fair, firm, and aesthetically pleasing chest and abdominal muscles. It was a complete contrast to his scholarly face. The poor youth’s face flushed bright red, and he hurriedly reached out, stammering as he tried to pull his clothes back together.
“Ma-ma-ma-master...” She never said he had to use seduction to learn the sword.
He wouldn't learn then! He was a respectable man!
Wangquan Chumo’s eyes filled with surprise, and even a hint of strangeness. This physique was even better than his own back when he was in his teens; it certainly wasn't built overnight.
This kid was good. He had a bit of his own style from back then.
Wen Li, also mindful of her disciple’s dignity, quickly pulled his clothes back up and patted his head. “It’s fine. He was just checking your physical strength. There are no outsiders here; looking doesn't cost anything. Besides, you can always charge your Senior Brother for it.”
“...” That really wasn't necessary.
Gu Linshu choked on his words. He understood she was paving the way for him, and his nervous heart gradually settled, but his hands remained clutched tightly around his collar, fearing Wen Li might suddenly do it again.
To the side, Zongzheng Huangyue pursed her lips and smiled faintly, silently watching as a bystander.
Wangquan Chumo still didn't agree immediately. He looked at Wen Li and said, “This still isn't enough. Physical strength can be trained slowly, but you know that for a sword cultivator, the most important thing is...”
Thud!
Before he could finish his sentence, Wen Li casually tossed out three storage bags and dumped their contents out.
Clatter.
A pile of black-gold spirit stone cards fell onto the table like worthless leaves, and two bags of spirit cores crashed to the floor, piling up into a small mountain.
The overwhelming aura of wealth instantly transformed the simple and messy pharmacy into something that felt magnificent, as if every breath carried the scent of money.
To put it in perspective, it was like someone throwing bank cards with over a billion in savings right in front of you.
“...”
Wangquan Chumo fell silent.
Zongzheng Huangyue, seeing this much money for the first time, was also stunned. The reflection of that mountain of spirit cores was visible in her pupils.
Though she had a title and the imperial palace allocated her a hundred thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones every month, she had never seen a spirit core. The only time she had heard of them was when Zongzheng Yingchu mentioned that the protective array of the Zongzheng Ancestral Temple consumed ten spirit cores a month.
However, that array didn't just protect the ancestral temple; it covered the entire capital.
One could see how rare and precious spirit cores were.
Yet now, a small mountain of nearly several thousand spirit cores sat right before her eyes!
She couldn't help but gasp, looking at the calm Wen Li. Master is so rich, so why does she dress so simply and poorly?
Wen Li was also reluctant to part with this money. Back at the Yunxiao Treasure Pavilion, she had sold so much loot and hadn't even managed to get a single black-gold card. Now she had to sacrifice so many; her heart was practically bleeding!
“Here. Use this money to nurture his sword. Is it enough?”
She had no choice. She knew that Wangquan Chumo, as a sword cultivator, was also poor. A child’s education required a massive investment. She forced herself to endure the pain and looked away from the black-gold cards and spirit cores.
“You... did you go and rob the Three Saint Emperors?” Wangquan Chumo concluded almost instantly without a second thought.
What was this? This was her reputation!
Yet he hadn't heard anything about a new kill order being issued for her in the Eastern Province lately.
He took a shallow breath to steady his racing heart and suppressed the urge to commit murder and robbery himself. Don't think about it. I can't beat her.
“Am I that kind of person? A gentleman loves wealth but acquires it through the proper Dao. My money didn't just blow in with the wind; it’s just easily blown away by the wind.”
Wen Li clicked her tongue and refused to admit it.
“But you aren't a gentleman.”
Wangquan Chumo still looked at her with total disbelief. He refused to let up, as if he needed to confirm whether she had obtained this through deception, lest it bring a great disaster upon him.
“...”
Gu Linshu and Zongzheng Huangyue also understood the situation and shared a knowing look.
It seemed their master had a history of doing such things—giving someone money, but the money belonged to others, and the trouble that came with it was passed on as well.
“I never said this money was mine. What are you afraid of?” Wen Li waved her hand irritably; she really hated the feeling of not being trusted.
She pointed at Gu Linshu. “These black-gold cards and spirit cores were all given by his parents. Don't worry, his ancestors were wealthy. This money is cleaner than what’s in your own pockets.”
His secret exposed, Wangquan Chumo turned his head and gave a light cough, his expression surprised. To be this wealthy without having one of the three imperial surnames, to have a fortune comparable to—no, greater than—the foundation of a Soul Formation cultivator, and to have 'wealthy ancestors'...
He suddenly realized something and looked at Gu Linshu.
“You are from... the Kunlun Domain. No, it probably isn't called the Kunlun Domain anymore. It’s called...”
“The Wangyue Sect. My parents moved out of the Kunlun Domain and established the Wangyue Sect,” Gu Linshu added.
Wangquan Chumo immediately looked at Wen Li, his tone certain. “He is a descendant of Senior Xiang.”
“Yes.” Wen Li didn't intend to hide it. With this connection, he would be even more likely to agree and wouldn't do anything dangerous to Gu Linshu.
“To think he’s his descendant...”
Wangquan Chumo’s expression shifted slightly as he lowered his eyes, lost in some memory.
Gu Linshu looked at them both in confusion, but since they didn't seem inclined to explain, he remained silent.
“Fine. I will teach you swordsmanship and pass on everything I have learned in my life to you.”
Wangquan Chumo suddenly looked up, staring at Gu Linshu with an indifferent gaze.
“From this day forward, you will stay by my side. I’ll give it to you straight: you will do whatever I say without asking why. If you get injured, I have plenty of spirit medicine to treat you. As long as you aren't missing an arm or a leg, you aren't allowed to stop training.”
“Your master is right here. Once you agree, there’s no possibility of backing out.”
Gu Linshu looked at Wen Li. Seeing her nod, he first asked, “Then, I... how long do I need to stay with you?”
Wangquan Chumo replied, “Ten years.”
Before Gu Linshu could speak, Wen Li grew anxious. “At most one year. I’ll come to pick him up in a year. If he hasn't learned well, I’ll beat you.”
The one she’d be beating was, naturally, Wangquan Chumo.
His previously indifferent and profound demeanor vanished as his eyes widened. He immediately retorted, “You’re a sword cultivator too. Do you think everyone is a freak like you, able to comprehend sword intent in just one year?”
“You...”
It was meant to be a rebuttal, but the underlying flattery reached Wen Li. She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from twitching upward. Unable to hide her smile, she gave a light cough and turned her head away.
“What about it? My disciple is as gifted as I am.” Her aggression had significantly subsided.
Zongzheng Huangyue watched everything.
She understood now. Her master was immune to threats and persuasion, but she was very susceptible to flattery.
Wen Li also knew that one year was too short, so she compromised. “How about this: I’ll come to pick him up in two years. I’ll let him stay with me for three years, and then he can spend the next few years with you. We’ll return to the Northern Province after the Qingyun Gathering.”
“Deal.”
Wangquan Chumo knew this was her maximum concession and nodded.
“Take my fourth disciple to treat her legs first. Once she’s healed, we’ll leave.”
“Fine.”
Wangquan Chumo knew she had things to settle. He stood up and pushed Zongzheng Huangyue’s wheelchair toward the inner room.
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