Chapter 7: One of the Five Grandmasters
To avoid unwanted eyes, Sun Yanwan never trained at inns. He always picked wild, remote places to practice. Having made significant progress in his martial skills, he rushed back, eager to share it with his master—only to find a young Daoist chatting with Miao Youxiu.
The Daoist was a little older than Sun, with sword-shaped brows and elegant features. He looked nothing like a monk—more like a noble prince. Curious, Sun cupped his fists and greeted him as Master had taught him, "Greetings, Senior Brother."
The Daoist smiled gracefully, sleeves fluttering, and said, "This must be Junior Brother Yanwan."
A sudden force surged around Sun. Fortunately, he had opened a meridian in his leg. His stance held firm, feet planted. Though surprised, he didn't stumble. He was about to demand why the man attacked—
When the Daoist said with slight amazement, "Junior Brother Yanwan has only practiced the Hunyuan Stances for a few months and already opened a meridian? Impressive talent."
"I accept on behalf of my Master. If Junior Brother agrees, I'll take him to Taiyi Temple at once."
Sun felt something was off and glanced at Miao Youxiu. Miao smiled gently. "Yanwan, my martial arts are family secrets. I can't pass them to outsiders. Besides, I still have a blood feud to settle and must travel the jianghu. It's not convenient to bring you along. So I've found you a proper master—Daoist Zhang Yuanqiao of the Songyang Sect."
"This is his senior disciple, Zhang Qingxi."
"Go with him today."
Though Sun had anticipated this, he hadn't expected it to come so soon. He knelt and kowtowed. "I was just an inn servant. Without your help, I would've lived and died in obscurity."
"I can never repay your kindness. I only regret that I'm still weak, unworthy to serve you longer."
Miao was moved. Though just a few years older, they had traveled together for months, more like companions than master and disciple. Yanwan's cleverness and intuition had grown on him.
But he had no choice. His grandfather and father had been slaughtered by the Hu clan. He needed freedom to seek vengeance.
He laughed. "We'll meet again. Don't act like a weepy girl. Go with Qingxi."
With great reluctance, Sun bowed deeply and followed the Daoist out of the inn.
Zhang Qingxi led him out of town. Testing him, he used thirty percent of his strength—but Sun kept pace easily. Pleased, Qingxi thought:
"My Master had a falling out with the sect's head and lit incense before the patriarch's statue to leave. He's trying to found a new sect and has no disciples but me."
"Talented, diligent youths are hard to find. Master is one of the five Grandmasters of the realm—he can't take in someone unworthy."
"This boy saved Uncle Miao, shows strong morals, and has real talent. After just a few months of training, he's already this strong. He'll bring honor to Taiyi."
They traveled all day without encountering a soul. As evening approached, they reached a Daoist temple with "Taiyi Temple" written above the gate. The doors were open, no guards in sight. Zhang Qingxi walked right in.
Sun felt a quiet joy. "A new Master means I can finally train in peace." With the mind of someone who had lived two lives, he didn't rush in. Instead, he dusted off his robes, adjusted his clothes, and entered respectfully.
In the courtyard, a tall middle-aged Daoist sat cross-legged—not on a mat, nor stone—but floating above a water-filled urn. He hovered two or three inches above the surface, the water gently rippling. It was a display of immense internal power.
Sun was stunned. "Martial arts in this world… are truly mystical. Hu Fengwei could unleash green sword light—but this man… he's floating in midair on water?"
"And he's going to be my Master?"
Excited, he dropped to his knees. "Disciple Sun Yanwan greets his Master!" He bowed eight times, following tradition.
The old Daoist didn't move at first. After the bows, he slowly rose and stepped off the urn.
He was over 190 cm tall—tall enough to play pro basketball back on Earth. His face wasn't handsome, nor fierce—just plain and calm.
He smiled. "My Master was close with Miao's ancestors. Miao and I are equals. He couldn't take disciples, so he sent you to me. I may lack students, but I won't take in the lazy or the wicked."
"If Qingxi brought you, I trust his judgment. You've already bowed, so the apprenticeship is sealed. Let Qingxi arrange your room."
Zhang Qingxi bowed and took Sun to a spare room near the kitchen. It had once been a storage room.
"This is your place, Junior Brother. Rest a bit. I'll come get you for dinner."
Sun thanked him sincerely. "Thank you for the trouble, Senior Brother."
Qingxi smiled and left.
Sun looked around the room. No bed, just benches. He stacked a few, climbed up, and hid his bundle and Demon-Slaying Sword in the rafters—leaving part of the bundle visible. His flying cash vest he tossed with his normal clothes.
He didn't expect theft in a temple, but instincts were hard to shake.
Just as he finished, Zhang Qingxi called from outside, "Junior Brother Sun, dinner is ready!"
Sun stepped out, bowed, and followed him through the temple's winding corridors toward the dining hall.