Chapter 129: The Greatest Small Sect Under Heaven!

Killing a small creature right off the bat—how was this a Daoist seeking the Way? He seemed more like a bandit hiding in the dense forest, face covered by a pair of tiny briefs, jumping out to shout, "I planted these trees, I built this road. If you want to pass, leave your toll!" at passersby.

Weren’t Daoists supposed to abstain from killing? Hadn't the old man broken his vows?

Qin Luo pointed at the two little legs of the insect still twitching on the ground and said, "Master, you’ve killed a living thing."

"I killed it because I had a reason." The old man flicked his wrist, and the long sword slid back into its scabbard with a crisp *clack*.

The move made Qin Luo’s eyes burn with envy. If he could master such a trick, pulling it off suddenly while walking down the street, imagine how much attention he could capture from beautiful young women with that suave flair.

"What reason?"

"It disturbed my state of mind in seeking the Way. So I killed it. That is the reason," the Daoist replied.

A spark of realization flashed through Qin Luo’s mind, as if he had grasped something. But when he tried hard to seize it, the trace of inspiration slipped away.

However, witnessing this scene reminded him of a saying: "Might makes right." Was this what he was trying to teach him?

Could this proverb, common in the mundane world, also be a Daoist’s philosophy of life?

This world was insane!

The Daoist looked into Qin Luo’s eyes, as if seeing through his thoughts, and explained, "Some people hope to rise to prominence. Some hope for endless wealth. Some hope to be surrounded by beauties, while others hope to seek immortality and the Way. No matter what you pursue, you have planted the seed; to harvest the fruit, you must move toward your goal. There are too many seeds and too few fruits. Therefore, competition is inevitable. It is either man eating man, or man stepping on man—without exception."

"Must one struggle even to practice the Way?" Qin Luo asked.

"Struggle against heaven, struggle against earth, and struggle against one’s own desires. There is never a moment without struggle," the Daoist nodded.

"Then what kind of 'Way' is this?" Qin Luo asked with a bitter smile.

"Those obsessed with power reach the pinnacle of officialdom—that is their 'Way.' Those greedy for wealth amass fortunes that rival nations—that is their 'Way' as well. Different intentions lead to different 'Ways.' We seek the Way of Heavenly Secrets. To pierce through the secrets of heaven is to attain the Way."

"Has Master ever pierced through the secrets of heaven?" Qin Luo asked, feigning sincerity, though inwardly he was skeptical.

What were "Heavenly Secrets," anyway? Just another word for fate.

Before an event occurs or tomorrow arrives, who can truly predict what will happen?

Qin Luo had encountered such people before; there were plenty of them by the overpass near his school. They wore robes and caps, spreading out a tattered cloth covered in ghoulish talismans on the ground. When they saw someone pass, they would shout, "Hey, young man, want your fortune told? My predictions are absolute—if you're not satisfied, I won't take your money."

Sometimes, Qin Luo really wanted to walk up to them and say, "Why don't you predict whether I'll give you any money?" just to see the look on their faces.

Although he was reluctant to lump his savior in with those low-class con artists, the old man truly gave him that exact impression.

Of course, compared to those street swindlers, this old man was clearly on a higher level. Not only was his attire more expensive, but that swordsmanship was something that couldn't be mastered in three or five years.

The old man grinned and said, "The so-called 'Way' is nothing more than satisfying one’s inner desires. If what you pray for is attained, then you have found your 'Way.' Our Way of Heavenly Secrets follows the trajectory of history to find the truth of destiny. This is the Way we seek."

Qin Luo finally understood; the old man was essentially just a historian. The only difference was that while others studied scholarly things—like how many dishes people ate in the Ming Dynasty or how the Qing Dynasty people brushed their teeth—he studied whether it would be sunny or rainy tomorrow, or if there would be a flood next month.

We have weather forecasts now. Why do I need you for that?

"Do you understand?" the old Daoist asked.

"I understand," Qin Luo nodded.

"Since we have met, it is fate. Let me cast a hex for you—"

Qin Luo interrupted him, "I don't believe in that. You know I don't."

The old man nodded and said, "You said that the first time we met. Let me cast it anyway. Once you see the reading, you will believe."

"Master, let’s not. I like the unknown. If everything were known in advance, what would be the point of living?" Qin Luo said.

The old Daoist pondered this and remarked, "That’s a novel perspective. Others desperately try to know the heavenly secrets in advance, yet you refuse to know them early."

"Yes. I am different from the others," Qin Luo said. Having been confused by the old man’s talk of this "Way" and that "Way," he rushed to change the subject. "Master, where are you staying now? Why not come back and stay with me?"

"No need. The world is my home; I am at home everywhere," the old Daoist replied.

"Regardless, please allow me to fulfill my duty as a disciple," Qin Luo insisted.

"No need. Filial piety is in the heart. I can feel it, and that is enough," the old Daoist said.

*Tsk, tsk.* Look at that level of detachment. It was even more advanced than Platonic love.

"Then is there anything else you need your disciple to do?" Qin Luo asked.

Hearing this, the old Daoist scanned Qin Luo with burning eyes, then shook his head in regret.

"Master, is something wrong?" Qin Luo asked, puzzled.

"A pity. A pity. You lack the spiritual root," the old Daoist sighed.

"Spiritual root?" Qin Luo was stunned. What would he need that for? He never intended to be a Daoist. Marrying a sophisticated older woman was the real priority.

"Yanjing has a profound cultural heritage and produces many outstanding talents. My journey north had two purposes: to travel and to find someone with a spiritual root to inherit my mantle. It is a pity I cannot find one. It seems fate has not yet arrived," the Daoist explained.

"Sigh, it seems I cannot help you, Master," Qin Luo said with a look of regret, though he secretly rejoiced at his own "inadequacy."

"However, since you have called me Master, I cannot turn a blind eye. Besides, you possess great perseverance, having practiced the 'Twelve Brocades of the Dao' for over a decade; that counts as having an affinity with my sect. Very well, I shall take you on as a nominal disciple first."

Qin Luo was shocked. "Master, please reconsider. I know nothing about seeking immortality or the Way, and I have absolutely no interest. I fear I would fail to carry on your great cause. You should find a more suitable disciple. I call you Master only to repay your kindness; there is no need to make me your official student."

To escape the fate of becoming a Daoist, Qin Luo almost blurted out, "I fear I am too incompetent and would tarnish your lifelong reputation."

"Who asked you to carry on any great cause?" the Daoist retorted.

"Then what do you mean, Master?" Qin Luo asked, bewildered.

"A nominal disciple, that is all. As for inheriting the mantle, others will surely do that in time," the Daoist said.

"Then... can a nominal disciple take a wife?"

"A nominal disciple is an outer-sect student. Naturally, you may marry and have children. Besides, our Way of Heavenly Secrets is different from the Orthodox Sect; we have no rule forbidding disciples from marrying."

"Is that so?" Qin Luo thought, *Well, inheriting the mantle might not be impossible. Everything is up for negotiation.*

"Master, how many people are in our Way of Heavenly Secrets? What is our status in the martial arts world?" Qin Luo thought, *It's good to lean on a big tree for shade. Perhaps if I form ties with these hidden sects, if trouble arises in the future, someone will stand up for me.*

Since it didn't forbid marriage and there would be backup in a fight, Qin Luo didn't mind joining the Way of Heavenly Secrets.

"This..." A look of embarrassment appeared on the old Daoist’s gentle, steady face.

"Is it a sect secret that you can't disclose?" Qin Luo assumed. Back when his grandfather took him to see patients, he had encountered this before. People didn't want to reveal sect affairs to outsiders unless you became an inner-circle core disciple.

"That's not it." The Daoist looked relieved. "It is only because I have been so focused on the Way that I neglected the sect’s growth. So... currently, our Way of Heavenly Secrets has only two people."

"Two?" Qin Luo’s eyes widened.

"Two," the Daoist repeated.

"Besides you, Master, who is the other person?"

"That would be you."

"..."

Qin Luo was speechless. What kind of sect was this?

The name sounded grand, but counting himself, there were only two members. This could definitely apply to the Guinness World Records for the "Smallest Sect in the World."

The old Daoist also felt a bit awkward. Fumbling in his pockets, he said to Qin Luo, "I am of the 'Xuan' generation, known as Xuanji. You are of the 'Kong' generation; you shall be called Kongji. Here is a book; study it carefully. With the foundation of your 'Twelve Brocades of the Dao,' it should not be difficult to learn. This Purple Blood Bead is a naturally cold object that can suppress the heat-poison in your body. Wear it to protect yourself. Very well, I have matters to attend to. We shall meet again if fate permits."

"Master!" Qin Luo called out. He hadn't expected the old man to leave so abruptly, without even leaving contact information.

No matter what kind of ideology the old man had tried to instill in him, it couldn't change the fact that he was his savior. He was alive today because of him.

Furthermore, the Qin family valued loyalty and sentiment. If his grandfather knew he had encountered his savior and hadn't invited him back for a visit, he would surely be scolded to pieces.

"Is there anything else?" Xuanji asked, his voice gentle as he noticed the reluctance in Qin Luo’s eyes.

"Master, leave a phone number," Qin Luo said.

The Daoist smiled. "I am like a rootless duckweed, with no attachments to my heart. Why would I need such things? Rest assured, we are fated to meet again."

By the time Xuanji’s figure vanished, Qin Luo remained standing where he was, looking melancholy.

Some people you meet by chance, yet they provide immense help to your life.

The first time they met, the Daoist gave him the "Twelve Brocades of the Dao" and the "Body-Guiding Technique," saving his life.

The second time they met, he took him on as a nominal disciple and gave him a book and a string of cold, purple beads.

Qin Luo held the ancient, yellowed book in his hand; the words "Record of Profound Arts" were written on the cover in brush calligraphy. The text inside was written in a beautiful, neat script that was not difficult for Qin Luo to decipher. It even contained diagrams, making it look quite comprehensive.

The "Twelve Brocades of the Dao" he had received previously was mostly for maintaining health, but this "Record of Profound Arts" seemed to record methods for attack and defense; it looked like an enhanced version of the previous book.

*At my age, can I still practice this?* Qin Luo thought, clutching the book.

Returning to the filming set, Li Qingcheng rushed over with an anxious look. "Qin Luo, where did you run off to? You didn't even bring your phone. Everyone was looking for you."

"It's fine. I saw a friend and went over to chat," Qin Luo said with a smile. It was rare to see Li Qingcheng looking so worried; she was truly breathtaking.

"What kind of friend?" Li Qingcheng asked curiously.

"A Daoist. He said he wanted to read my fortune," Qin Luo asked thoughtfully, "Do you believe in that?"

"I do. I can even read fortunes myself," Li Qingcheng giggled. "Want your big sister to read one for you?"

"Sure, go ahead," Qin Luo said curiously. He truly didn't believe this woman understood such things. Conning people was a highly technical skill.

"You're going to have a wet dream tonight," Li Qingcheng whispered into Qin Luo’s ear.

"..."