Chapter 13

“…Children’s words carry no harm, Elder, please don’t take offense.”

After a few seconds of frozen silence in the hall, Yue Wujiu managed to squeeze out these eight words.

Peng Peng had no idea what she had done wrong, tilting her head in confusion.

As for Elder Qing Yang… what could he even say?

In this socially mortifying situation, his thoughts had already drifted to fleeing the cultivation world overnight by selling standing-room tickets.

Soon after, Peng Peng was shooed away, told that the adults had matters to discuss and she should go play by herself—with one strict condition: no more accepting spirit stones from Kunlun Ruins disciples.

The disciples who were still eager to pet the big cat voiced their dissatisfaction, shouting, “We’re willing to pay!”

Peng Peng waved her hand grandly:

“Fine, if my master says no, then no more payments!”

A naive disciple perked up with hope: “Does that mean we can pet A Xue for free now?”

“Of course not.”

Peng Peng gave him a look that said, *How could you make such a rude request?*

“What I mean is, you can acknowledge me as your Boss. Then A Xue will be your Fourth Brother. Since we’ll all be sworn siblings, A Xue definitely won’t scratch you, right, A Xue?”

The elegant big cat nodded with dignified grace.

Listening intermittently from the ring, Ye Qi was just marveling at how this kid was actually recruiting followers when he suddenly realized something.

If A Xue was Fourth Brother, then the stupid bird at her home was probably Second Brother. But who was Third Brother?

Hmm…

Wait—Third Brother was *himself*!

“No problem, Boss!” A severe cat addict in the crowd shamelessly agreed without hesitation.

“Junior Sister Peng Peng’s beast-taming skills are extraordinary. As they say, *Among three people, there must be one who can teach me.* I call you Boss with complete sincerity!”

“Boss! Someone tried to pet Fourth Brother without paying respects first! Such disrespect—I suggest sending someone to teach him a lesson!”

Ye Qi: *…Do you even realize who your actual sect-mates are when you say this?*

Most of those who came to pay for cat-petting were children only slightly older than Peng Peng. Kunlun Ruins was a place of exceptional talent and cutthroat competition, making these cultivation-obsessed kids unbelievably easy to fool.

Watching the roaring chorus of “Boss!” from his ring, Ye Qi was utterly speechless at the spectacle.

He observed Peng Peng even telling others to address Ji Shu as “Eldest Sister-in-Law”—though anyone foolish enough to actually call him that got beaten up—and felt things were spiraling into absurdity.

He *had* been scheming for revenge against Kunlun Ruins someday, but this wasn’t quite the method he’d envisioned.

Yet after Peng Peng’s antics, these future pillars of Kunlun Ruins for centuries to come seemed thoroughly won over by the Nether Capital’s influence.

In her mind, Peng Peng called out to Ye Qi:

*[Ye Qi, Ye Qi! See that? This is the empire I’ve conquered for you!]*

Ye Qi: *I see it, I see it. Both my eyes see it.*

Peng Peng: *[Acknowledge me as your Boss, and I’ll help fulfill your wishes someday. Just assist me faithfully—our goal is: Fists against the Nine Sects, Feet against the Four Sages, Revive the Nether Capital, Supreme Above All!]*

*Since when did you come up with a slogan?!*

Before Ye Qi could retort, she added:

*[So… don’t cry in secret anymore, okay?]*

When the little girl spoke these words in her heart, her tone was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to her earlier heroic fervor, filled with sincerity and a cautiousness that seemed afraid of making him cry.

So…

Was she doing this to cheer him up?

After a long silence, Ye Qi’s voice rang out with disdain:

[I’m not crying. You’re just seeing things.]

He was just a fake Lord of the Nether Capital, a vessel destined to be possessed by him sooner or later.

…What a fool.

In the end, Elder Qing Yang never found the chance to return the IOU to them.

Before leaving, Yue Wujiu specifically instructed Qing Yang to ensure the money was returned to the children one by one. Otherwise, if their parents found out Peng Peng had casually taken such large sums from them, it might lead to unnecessary trouble.

Qing Yang tried to decline, but Yue Wujiu paused and added:

“My visit to the Kunlun Ruins was already impolite enough without bringing gifts. Accepting money would be truly inappropriate.”

Though he had left shortly after the Kunlun Ruins was founded, by seniority, these disciples should address him as Grandmaster.

When Yue Wujiu and his party arrived at the Kunlun Ruins, the master and disciples were left waiting outside the gate for a full hour, nearly being turned away.

But when they departed, the scene was grand and lively, with a crowd of young talents lining the path to see them off, eagerly asking when they would return—or if they were too busy, they could always visit instead.

Of course, this enthusiasm had nothing to do with Yue Wujiu or Ji Shu.

Zhu Xianfei: “This is what A Xue likes to eat—I’ve written it all down. A Xue is sensitive to heat, so its living space must be kept icy and snowy. Also, it needs at least an hour of walks every day…”

Peng Peng hadn’t realized raising a Spirit Demon involved so many details. Qiuqiu wasn’t this troublesome.

She patted the snow leopard carrying her:

“A Xue, our sect is actually a bit short on funds right now. We might not afford expensive food or a fancy big house for you. Even my master sleeps by the door. Maybe you should stay here.”

Zhu Xianfei froze at Peng Peng’s words, a flicker of hope rising in his heart—only to hear her continue:

“Oh, A Xue just told me it’s fine with anything as long as it’s with me.”

…A merciless blow.

The entire journey back, Peng Peng seemed unusually cheerful.

“Why the silly grin?”

“Because I’m rich, of course!”

Peng Peng proudly patted her Mustard Seed Pouch.

“I’ve never seen so many Spirit Stones before! Master, how many sugar paintings and candied hawthorns can I buy with ten thousand Spirit Stones? If I eat a few sticks, what can I buy for my senior brothers and sisters with the rest?”

The little girl riding the snow leopard counted on her fingers.

Last time, when Senior Sister Le Yao took her to the Immortal Market, she had lingered in front of a magical artifact shop, staring at a sword sheath for ages. Headmaster Tang Fang’s hall always carried a faint scent of wine—seemed like she enjoyed drinking…

As for her master and senior sister, well, she hadn’t decided yet. She wasn’t sure if her money would be enough.

Yue Wujiu glanced at her, the corners of his lips quirking up:

“No need to think about buying things for others. Just keep it as pocket money for yourself.”

But Peng Peng misunderstood, thinking her master meant ten thousand Spirit Stones was too paltry to buy anything worthwhile, so she might as well spend it on herself.

—No wonder those people were so generous with their money! Next time, she’d definitely raise the prices!!

As soon as Peng Peng returned to the Ninefold Mountain Moon Sect, she was dragged away by her senior brothers and sisters who had heard about the challenge incident, eager for gossip.

No one dared to gossip with Ji Shu, and Ji Shu couldn’t be bothered to participate. Today, he had encountered a few male cultivators at the Kunlun Ruins who tried to strike up a conversation with him, leaving him in a foul mood. The moment he returned to the sect, he buried himself in his herb garden to study Spirit Plants, his face clearly screaming, “Bother me and die.”

That left Yue Wujiu lost in thought.

Just a few days ago, he still had a modest savings, free from worries about food and clothing, and could leisurely visit the Pailou to play a few rounds of Pai Gow with friends.

But now, he was penniless, deep in debt by tens of thousands. Forget Pai Gow—figuring out how to repay the money was a problem in itself.

…In the end, it all boiled down to one thing: raising kids was expensive.

Yue Wujiu picked up an abacus and started calculating.

First was the issue of Peng Peng’s Celestial Deficiency Physique.

This unfortunate constitution was rare in the Soaring Void Realm, and few had ever heard of it being cured. Even though Ji Shu had mentioned he could try, it would undoubtedly require massive amounts of rare herbs and Spirit Plants to refine the necessary pills—with no guarantee of success.

A conservative estimate put the cost at a minimum of 300,000 Spirit Stones.

Next was the matter of expanding their cave abode.

Compared to treating the Celestial Deficiency Physique, this expense was minor. He didn’t mind for himself, but his two disciples’ living quarters couldn’t be neglected—their beds and furnishings had to meet his own standards.

From expansion to making it livable, the conservative estimate was around 100,000 to 200,000 Spirit Stones.

…This wasn’t raising disciples—it was raising Gold-Swallowing Beasts.

In contrast, Ji Shu was exceptionally worry-free.

Yue Wujiu didn’t know the specifics of his alchemy skills, but ordinary refining materials could be sourced from the sect’s resources. So far, Ji Shu had been using seeds and pill furnaces from the sect’s public assets, costing Yue Wujiu nothing.

As for the pills he refined, they wouldn’t cost Yue Wujiu a single coin either. As long as the pills met even the most basic standards, they could be sold for profit. After the sect took its 40% cut, the remaining 60% was pure income.

At least, at least—he still had one disciple who could earn money.

Just then, Ji Shu approached Yue Wujiu with a list in hand.

“Master, these are the materials I need for pill refining in the coming days. The senior sister in charge of materials said the sect doesn’t have these, so she told me to come to you.”

With that, he placed the densely packed list in front of Yue Wujiu.

After reading it, Yue Wujiu fell silent.

Jade Marrow Yang Flame Pill Furnace—20,000 Spirit Stones.

Seven Treasure Spirit Sandalwood—1,000 Spirit Stones, consumable, replenished as needed.

Great Turtle Brain Juice, Asparagus, Undying Tree, etc.—ranging from 3,000 to 10,000 Spirit Stones each.

Yue Wujiu looked up at Ji Shu, trying to convey with his utterly calm, deadpan expression:

Is there, perhaps, a slight chance your master doesn’t have that kind of money?

But Ji Shu clearly didn’t pick up on the hint and even explained:

“These aren’t for me. All of these are essential materials for refining the pills to treat Peng Peng’s Celestial Deficiency Physique.”

Ji Shu genuinely had no concept of whether these things were expensive or not. In his past life, as the sect leader’s disciple, refining pills meant the entire sect would rally to support him.

But now, things were different.

Because his current master was a salted fish who had been lying flat for five hundred years.

“…I understand.”

Everything was for the child.

Yue Wujiu, now a father figure with newfound resilience, accepted the list handed to him.

Peng Peng soon noticed something unusual about her master.  

First, her master was spending less and less time at the Ninefold Mountain Moon Sect.  

Because Peng Peng was still young and not in the best health, Yue Wujiu wasn’t in a hurry to teach her sword techniques or cultivation methods. Instead, he directly enrolled her in Elder Hua Rong’s daycare class, where she spent her days at Yingyuan Peak studying basic scriptures and the like.  

As for himself, he was nowhere to be seen from morning till night.  

At first, Peng Peng thought her master had gone off to play Pai Gow again and didn’t pay it much mind. Later, she learned from Ji Shu:  

“Master? He’s busy earning money. Probably has a lot of expenses lately.”  

The moment Peng Peng heard he’d gone down the mountain to make money, her imagination ran wild.  

Though her master had high cultivation, he appeared refined and untainted by worldly desires—so much so that even mentioning gold and silver felt like sullying his immortal grace.  

How could such a master earn money down the mountain?  

With her limited life experience, Peng Peng could only think of the dockworkers she’d seen back in Pingchuan City—the kind who could carry four sacks on their shoulders at once.  

Her master could definitely carry more than four… he could probably manage ten on each side!  

The image was already vivid in her mind: by day, her master hauling dozens of sacks as a dockworker; by night, silently washing dishes in the back alley of a food stall, scolded by a grumpy cook if he didn’t clean them well enough.  

Ji Shu watched Peng Peng’s teary-eyed expression and couldn’t help but twitch his eyelids.  

“…I don’t know what kind of work Master is doing either, but I’m pretty sure it’s not what you’re imagining.”  

Far away at Eastern Wasteland Ghost Mansion Mountain, Yue Wujiu sneezed.  

His companion, who had joined him on the mission, was panting heavily after suppressing a wave of the Demonic Tide. Exhausted, he seized the chance to wave his hand weakly.  

“T-this fellow Daoist… you must be tired too. Why don’t we… take a break… and continue later…”  

No wonder fellow cultivators warned against teaming up for missions these days—they’d be worked to death! What kind of monster was this guy? He was like an emotionless demon-slaying machine!  

“No need.”  

Yue Wujiu rubbed his nose, as if puzzled by the sudden sneeze. He lifted his gaze toward the dark mass of evil spirits beyond the distant mountains and said calmly,  

“If we return too late, I won’t make it in time to buy the sugar paintings my disciple wants.”  

Meanwhile, Peng Peng had finished her mental dramatization, layering her master’s image with one hardship after another as an underpaid laborer.  

Unable to hold back, she tugged at her two little followers and declared:  

“Qiuqiu, A Xue, this sect is just too poor! Let’s go back to our old ways—scavenging to support the family! This household can’t survive without us!”