Chapter 28: A Complicated Task
1087 Words
Among purple, black, white, and red, black robes signify formidable strength. Unable to gauge the man’s cultivation, Wang Lin bowed respectfully. “Wang Lin greets Senior Brother Zhang. Congratulations on advancing to a black robe.”
The black-robed youth gave him a once-over, his expression easing a fraction. “I reached the fifth layer of Qi Condensation last month. In a way, you had a part in it—if I hadn’t found that wind ‘eye’ while searching for you, I wouldn’t have broken through so quickly.”
Wang Lin blinked. “Senior Brother Zhang, that suction vortex on the cliff… it can aid cultivation?”
Zhang nodded. “When you reach the peak of the fourth layer and try to open the fifth, go there. You’ll understand then.” He glanced over Wang Lin again and added, “Your aptitude is ordinary—nothing you can do about that. But since you’ve become an inner disciple, you should work even harder. I can’t sense a trace of spiritual energy in you right now; it seems you haven’t even reached the first layer. Among the inner sect, you’re probably the only one still stuck below it.”
Wang Lin’s heart gave a jump, but he only smiled wryly. “Your guidance is noted, Senior Brother. I’ll double my efforts. May I ask what brings you here?”
Zhang chuckled. “Nothing major. A registered disciple from the chores office has gone missing. Someone saw you there that day, so I came to ask.”
Wang Lin kept his face calm. “I remember. I rarely go to the chores office. Half a month ago I passed by; that registered disciple mouthed off at me, so I taught him a small lesson. Maybe he couldn’t take it and, fearing I’d trouble him again, ran down the mountain.”
Senior Brother Zhang nodded slightly, giving Wang Lin a sidelong, half-smiling look. “An obnoxious registered disciple—no big matter. I also came with this: after discussing it, the sect master and a few uncles decided the chores office shouldn’t be run by registered disciples. An inner disciple will be assigned to take charge. Of course, no one wants the job—they’re all busy cultivating.”
Wang Lin’s smile turned bitter. “I understand. You’re assigning it to me.”
Zhang smiled. “Pack up and head over today. The place is a mess—put it in order.” With that, he clasped his hands, tapped his foot, and a crystal-clear small sword appeared beneath him. Riding a streak of rainbow light, he vanished.
Wang Lin could only feel helpless. The chores office was the last place he wanted—too many eyes, too much foot traffic, and it would eat into his cultivation time. But he couldn’t refuse. Stuffing down his irritation, he packed his things, then went to the chores office.
He’d already made up his mind: he mustn’t stay long. The only way out was to make a thorough hash of the place so all the registered disciples would petition the sect master to replace him.
With a plan in mind, he cleared out the room that had belonged to the Liu fellow, leaving only a bed and a table and tossing everything else into the courtyard.
As he worked, a few disciples drifted in. Word had spread that Wang Lin would be taking over. They stood uneasy; those who’d mocked him the worst were pale and jittery. A few wanted to step forward and help, but one glare from Wang Lin had them standing obediently in the yard like quails in winter.
When he finished, Wang Lin dragged out a chair, sat, and looked coolly at the hundred-odd registered disciples packed before him. He knew there were many more; these were just the first batch. Over the next few days they’d keep coming to hand over duties.
“You,” he said, pointing at one he remembered bad-mouthing him. “From now on, firewood. Five hundred jin a day.”
The man froze, face crumpling. “Senior Brother Wang, I… I’ve always worked in the kitchens. I can only cook—I don’t know how to chop wood.”
Wang Lin snorted. “Make it more, then. A thousand jin a day.”
The man dropped to his knees with a thud and bawled, “Senior Brother Wang, have mercy! I was wrong to laugh at you before, but don’t take revenge like this. I… I… there’s no way I can finish a thousand jin. How about five hundred?”
The crowd traded looks. They’d expected some hazing, but not outright vengeance. A few immediately shouted their displeasure.
“Don’t listen to him! Let’s go find an elder and demand justice. Wang Lin’s gone too far!”
“Yeah! We’ll plead until they replace him. If they don’t, we’ll kneel there and won’t get up!”
“That’s right—go! Don’t stay here to be abused. Look at that smug face—typical petty man who’s gotten lucky. With a stunt like faking suicide to get in—what a disgrace!”
The voices swelled; dozens marched off, loudly swearing they’d see justice done and that Wang Lin wouldn’t let them live.
Wang Lin lounged in his chair and let them go, even a touch hopeful—if they succeeded, the sect master would replace him and he could cultivate in peace.
The ten-plus who remained wavered. They wanted to go but feared that if the appeal failed and they’d left too, they’d earn Wang Lin’s lasting hatred.
Wang Lin waited, unhurried, for word from the main court. Before long, the petitioners slunk back, crestfallen. No one shouted now; faces were bleak and tight-lipped.
Seeing their expressions, Wang Lin knew it had failed. Disappointed, he thought, Looks like I’ll have to stir things up even more. He curled his lip, swept them with a glance, and said, “Those of you who mocked me back then—listen up. I came here today to settle scores. If you don’t like it, go find the elders. Anyone who can get me tossed out of the chores office? I’ll thank him.”
“Senior Brother Wang, be magnanimous. Let us off.”
“Yeah, Senior Brother Wang—we were blind before. Please forgive us. I… I’ll kowtow to you.”
“Senior Brother Wang, they all spoke ill of you, but I didn’t! I even defended you back then, I—”
- Writer
