Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Distribution Plan for the Young Beasts

In front of the Gale Pavilion, dozens of wandering cultivators had gathered in the most secluded corner, watching the scene unfold.

Just as they had united and prepared to launch an assault on the Gale Pavilion, three disciples from the Cloud Loft appeared, boldly announcing that this place was now under their sect’s control and advising the others to leave. Some among the crowd had secretly entertained the idea of risking everything to eliminate the Cloud Loft disciples and claim the pavilion for themselves, but before they could act, two streaks of red sword-light flashed at the entrance. The newcomers, clad in fitted garments with two unmistakable longswords strapped to their backs, were evidently from the Heavenly Sword Villa.

“The Cloud Loft speaks boldly—‘what you see belongs to you’? If so, all of Eastern Divine Continent would be your territory,” laughed a tall, slender man at the front. Though his words were spoken with a smile, the tension was palpable, fitting the Heavenly Sword Villa’s reputation for directness.

“Hmph! Does the Heavenly Sword Villa intend to wade into these troubled waters as well?” One of the Cloud Loft disciples, his face covered in a thick beard, retorted.

“If treasures are involved, of course we’ll wade in. Besides, this Dragon Abyss is managed jointly by the four great sects; naturally, the treasures within belong to whoever is capable enough to claim them. Surely you have no objections, fellow cultivator?” The tall man smiled, introducing himself, “Wu You, outer disciple of Heavenly Sword Villa. May I ask your name?”

“Zheng Hao of Cloud Loft,” the disciple’s face darkened as he finally replied.

“Then, Brother Zheng, you agree with my proposal, yes? As the saying goes, ‘finders keepers,’ anyone can compete for them.” Wu You grinned. Seeing that Heavenly Sword Villa currently lacked the strength to match Cloud Loft, he sought to enlist the wandering cultivators, who were naturally excited by his words.

Before the Cloud Loft disciples could respond, a cold snort rang out: “Nonsense about ‘finders keepers’! My disciple made it clear—this is Heavenly Sword Villa territory now. If anyone disagrees, come spar with me!”

As he spoke, an elder in a purple-gold robe stepped out from the forest. His movements were imperceptible, yet he arrived instantly, his gaze cold as he looked at the Heavenly Sword Villa disciples.

The Cloud Loft disciples greeted him with immediate smiles and hurriedly bowed, “Greetings, Elder Ling.”

The two Heavenly Sword Villa disciples were startled, retreating two steps and dropping to their knees, “Junior pays respects to the Cloud Loft elder.”

“Hmph!” The elder in purple-gold robes snorted, saying nothing more.

“Ling Kongzi, your words are rather unfair. Might I ask if I can share in the spoils?” No sooner had the elder finished speaking than Qian Yuanzi’s voice sounded, accompanied by six disciples from the Origin Sect.

“My Heavenly Sword Villa is not to be reprimanded by the likes of you, old man from Cloud Loft! You lack the qualifications!” Before Qian Yuanzi could finish, another voice, giving Ling Kongzi no face, spoke up.

A middle-aged man in a white robe embroidered with auspicious clouds strode forward, a longsword on his back—clearly a senior from Heavenly Sword Villa.

The elder in purple-gold robes saw him, his facial muscles twitching before he snorted coldly, offering no retort.

“Jian Wuji!” Qian Yuanzi was taken aback by the sight of this renowned sword immortal of Eastern Divine Continent, dispatched here unexpectedly.

With Ling Kongzi and Jian Wuji’s arrival, four disciples from each sect joined the fray. Yet the balance of power was obvious: Jian Wuji held a slight advantage, and if the elders fought, Heavenly Sword Villa would surely profit.

Qian Yuanzi glanced at both sides, his eyes flickering as he proposed, “Since both esteemed friends are here, why not divide the spoils evenly? That way, we avoid needless conflict. Besides, if us old fellows fight, it would be laughable.”

“Even distribution? You think I’d agree to that?” Jian Wuji’s expression remained colder than ice.

Qian Yuanzi’s brows furrowed, but he smiled, “Then, perhaps you wish to wait for the Celestial Sect to arrive and negotiate with us?”

“Hmph!” Jian Wuji snorted, finally stating, “Three-three-four. Your two sects get three shares each, ours gets four. Otherwise, let’s settle it by skill.”

Qian Yuanzi and Ling Kongzi exchanged glances, displeasure in their eyes, but they did not object. The allocation was reasonable; otherwise, if a fight broke out, they would gain nothing. Here, negotiation was possible, but in the wilds, Jian Wuji could injure them both in an instant.

Before the two could agree, Jian Wuji frowned, looking into the distance, and said coolly, “It seems the ones we expected have arrived.”

As he spoke, Wen Xuan appeared, accompanied by Gao Xiu and five others, as well as an inner disciple in green. Mo Bufan recognized this disciple; he was the one who had led Gao Xiu and others, together with six Origin Sect disciples, into the Wind Hall, only to encounter Wen Xuan along the way.

Wen Xuan walked to the front of the Gale Pavilion, expressionless, glancing over the three great sects and the wandering cultivators. Inwardly, he sighed: his son-in-law was not here.

He then looked inside the Gale Pavilion at the array of vigilant beasts, turning to the three sects, “It seems you do not welcome me?”

Wen Xuan’s reputation was no less than Jian Wuji’s—indeed, he had once eclipsed him, though recent years of absence had allowed Jian Wuji to seize the spotlight. Yet Jian Wuji knew that if he truly fought Wen Xuan, he would not fare well.

“Wherever did you get that idea, friend? We are simply discussing the distribution of the young beasts and treasures in the Gale Pavilion. Since you are here, perhaps you’d care to join the conversation?” Qian Yuanzi said with a smile.

Wen Xuan curled his lip, glancing at Qian Yuanzi with a hint of disdain. “I dislike discussions. I only care about the result. But let me be clear: I won’t accept an even split, and I won’t accept a share less than I deserve. Do as you see fit.”

“Hmph! Then, Wen Xuan, are you saying you want it all?” Jian Wuji’s cold face grew more sinister.

Wen Xuan frowned, “Damn it, just seeing your face makes me want to punch you. I want it all—what of it? Come on, let’s fight!”

He truly embodied Wei Wuwei’s brash, irreverent spirit; his words nearly choked Jian Wuji.

Jian Wuji’s expression shifted, but he did not respond. Though cold by nature, he knew the first to act would suffer most.

Qian Yuanzi and Ling Kongzi had been hoping for a show, but to their surprise, the previously arrogant Jian Wuji wilted, prompting a sigh.

So Wen Xuan watched from the sidelines while Qian Yuanzi and the other two began to negotiate distribution.

None of them paid the beasts any mind, nor did they consider the protective array of the Gale Pavilion. They were old foxes; the pavilion’s formation would have deterred them before the eruption of demonic energy, but now, with the array damaged and their actions unlikely to awaken the slumbering gods and demons of Dragon Abyss, they felt no hindrance.

As for the beasts, they posed no threat at all.

The wandering cultivators had now become mere spectators, unable to interject.

After lengthy deliberations, the three sects finally settled on a method of distribution.

To avoid conflict, the top experts from each sect would not participate; instead, the outer disciples here for training would compete, with the winners claiming a share, and Wen Xuan guaranteed at least two shares.

Wen Xuan found this arrangement satisfactory and nodded his agreement.

Just then, Mo Bufan finally arrived at the Gale Pavilion.

Wen Xuan immediately sensed Mo Bufan’s presence, turned to see him emerging from the woods, and exclaimed with joy, “Brat, I’ve finally found you!”

Mo Bufan hadn’t expected to arrive here, nor for Wen Xuan to be present, and promptly bowed, “Greetings, Senior Wen Xuan.”

Wen Xuan ignored the formalities, stepping over three dragons to stand before Mo Bufan, sizing him up, “Good, as long as you’re alright, as long as you’re alright.”

Mo Bufan felt a wave of warmth at Wen Xuan’s concern, though he knew it stemmed from his own special physique.

After greeting Wen Xuan, Mo Bufan’s gaze fell upon the two blood-scaled pythons within the formation. He had heard of the beasts’ plight along his journey, and the scene before him needed no explanation.

The two blood-scaled pythons were equally surprised to see Mo Bufan, their eyes full of astonishment.

Mo Bufan hesitated a moment, then stepped up to the pavilion’s formation and bowed to the two pythons, “It has been a long time. Forgive my intrusion—may all things forgive the unexpected.”