The Qingyun Seven exchanged uneasy glances. Revitalize the sect?This is annihilation!
Sect Master Qingyun Zi glared at Third Uncle. Had the fool not neglected his duty, this disaster might've been avoided.
Reform? They could've clung to the status quo until their eventual deaths, leaving Zhang Yang to his delusions. Now, the burden crushed them all.
Zhang Yang strode forward, eyes blazing. "Master, I know your heart yearns for ascension. Yet even with your peerless talent and devotion, you've stalled at the Nascent Soul stage. Why? Resources! Had you endless spirit stones and pills, you'd have reached Unity Realm long ago. What if reform brought such abundance? Would you still resist?"
Qingyun Zi's ancient dao heart quivered—a crack in centuries of resolve. Yet he remained silent.
Zhang Yang turned to the first elder, a swordsman in green robes. "Uncle Lingyun, you cherish your sword like a wife. Yet 'Second Mistress' starves for heavenly ores. Does this not pain you?"
The swordsman's fingers twitched against his blade's hilt, face impassive.
"Third Uncle," Zhang Yang grinned, "Imagine infinite spirit herbs for your alchemy…"
Third Uncle grinned crookedly. As an alchemy devotee, he cared only for his cauldron—hence delegating the recruitment to Zhang Yang.
"Fourth Aunt," Zhang Yang turned to the emerald-robed woman, "Beauty Preservation Pills could keep you eternally youthful... but each costs 100,000 spirit stones."
Her mournful gaze pierced Qingyun Zi, who twitched. Where would this impoverished sect find such wealth?
At the black-robed talisman master, Zhang Yang slammed the table: "Fifth Uncle! You wield a spirit-grade talisman brush yet scribble on toilet paper too rough for wiping! A disgrace!"
Fifth Uncle chuckled dryly, palm outstretched: "Give me better paper then! Even the cheapest talisman sheets cost 100 stones each. How many shit-stained scrolls must I sell to afford one?"
"This is why we need reform!" Zhang Yang's voice thundered. His gaze swept the room before locking onto Qingyun Zi. "Master! When you ascend and meet our ancestors, will you tell them Qingyun died with eight paupers? That after millennia, its legacy crumbled under your stewardship?"
Silence choked the hall.
Qingyun Zi stroked his beard, neither affirming nor denying.
"Even if you never ascend," Zhang Yang pressed, "and meet our ancestors in the underworld—what then? As sect master, this decay is your failure. I offer salvation through reform, yet you hesitate?"
His words hung like a blade—part plea, part condemnation.
Secretly, Zhang Yang seethed. Trapped in the Qi Condensation stage for decades, progress glacial. At this rate, he'd die an ant. Worse—these elders clearly intended to dump the hollowed sect onto him.
Centuries wasted. A lonely throne amidst ruins. The thought chilled him.
The elders' skills would rot unused if they refused reform—a waste of millennia of wisdom.
The Qingyun Seven watched their Sect Master's knuckles whiten as Zhang Yang lectured him. None dared intervene. Qingyun Zi's silence crackled with suppressed fury.
Curse that impulsive day I brought this brat here! the Sect Master raged inwardly. A viper in my own hall!
After an eternity, Qingyun Zi hissed: "This… reform—"
Zhang Yang cut him off. "Master, retreat into seclusion. Leave the rest to me. Emerge in a year, and you'll see results."
"A year?!" Qingyun Zi snarled. "Try six months! Fail, and I'll skin you alive!"
"Six months it is!" Zhang Yang grinned. "But first—" He extended his hand. "The Sect Master's Token. To unlock Qingyun's legacy vaults."
With a roar, Qingyun Zi flung the jade token at him and vanished.
The elders gaped. Had he just abdicated?
Zhang Yang turned to Seventh Aunt, the sect's treasurer. "Ledgers, please."
"Take them!" She tossed the ledgers like hot coals. "Counting pebbles while starving—good riddance!"
A clamor erupted outside. Disciples—dozens of them—poured into the courtyard.
"Your mess!" The elders fled, leaving Zhang Yang alone.
He stepped into the sunlight, surveying the panting newcomers. A wild grin split his face.
"Ten years!" he whispered. "Ten years of eating dirt and meditating like a beggar—this is cultivation? No more!"
Raising the token, he bellowed:
"From today, I'LL TEACH YOU HOW TO TRULY CULTIVATE!"