Beware Of Chicken v7c48: Water, Earth, Fire

~8 minute read · 1,914 words
Previously on Beware Of Chicken...
Jin and his family enjoyed captivating performances of poetry, calligraphy, martial arts, and hockey exhibitions at the Earthly Arena, followed by a historical feast blending regional and spirit beast dishes. The venue transformed into a socialization space, prompting sect masters to approach and pay respects. Ulagan Baatar of the Grand Ravine Sect exchanged pleasantries about sports and future visits, while Hermetic Iron, Framed Sun, Azure Horizon—eager for sword pointers with Babe—and Jade Dew sects followed with greetings and subtle overtures amid ongoing mingling.

Shui Xinling, the Mistress of the White Water Sect, lounged on a bench with a faint smile playing on her lips. The night had unfolded splendidly so far. She had secured considerable influence for her Sect and now simply relished the occasion alongside her Sect’s disciples and Elders, plus three of her four daughters. Xinlai lingered in Grass Sea City with the Acting Lord Magistrate, 'doing her duty,' as she put it.

In essence, ensuring no flies swarming her man could gain an advantage while she was absent. It was adorably endearing, and everyone concurred. Though her lover was a mortal, he possessed exceptional qualities. Xinling understood that perfectly.

Yet her daughter missed an exceedingly entertaining spectacle. Xinling stirred, feigning a move to rise for an instant. Every gaze from the queue awaiting their chance to greet Master Rou fixed upon her. Huifang, Sect Master of the Fragrant Resin Sect—who had snagged the next position—halted in nervous anticipation.

Master Rou had clearly enjoyed Xinling’s music, granting her the right—and crucially, the leverage—to interrupt at will. After all, who would block her from inquiring if the mighty Expert desired further amusement?

But teasing them into fidgeting proved far more entertaining before graciously yielding the way. Xinling beamed at Huifang, easing back into her seat, prompting the other woman to scowl. She thought with a smirk. And here Xinling had been so gracious to her, despite the extra cleavage on display than usual. Who would have guessed the notorious prude—and spinster—known for her snide remarks about Xinling would don a gown with such plunging décolletage?

Xinling remained straightforward about it all. She recognized the game and refused to act superior. A man might cherish a vibrant array of flowers… just as a Lady might maintain a stable of splendid stallions! Fair was fair.

Huifang advanced only when convinced Xinling wouldn't meddle, and Xinling permitted it. There was purpose in their seated vigil, after all.

Gathering intelligence. Those nearest Master Jin held sufficient knowledge to skip this phase. Sects shoving ahead to flaunt dominance proceeded in ignorance.

Xinling had already left a strong mark; now came the moment to build on it, observe his responses, and extract insights from this formidable Expert. Her daughters watched intently, seeking clues as well.

Yet the revelations proved scarce. Witnessing such a Master humbled them, revealing total self-mastery. His demeanor radiated pure sincerity. This celestial figure seemed genuinely engaged with their tales of deeds and territories, akin to a parent beaming at a child’s dirt pile. No arrogance showed. No disdain for the insignificant specks before him. His Qi flowed warm, welcoming, and true.

During Xinling’s initial encounter, she had noted flickers of tension. Moments of concern, deep frowns, and silences. They jarred against her scant understanding of the Cloudy Sword Sect, yet his might was undeniable, marked by his emblem—and the Solstice disclosures tied it all together.

Xinling would have fretted considerably if the Sect she relied on against northern demons had abruptly abducted his daughter. Earth Realms and a Sky Realm—and then one beyond the Sea of Snow!

Little wonder his vengeance stayed measured, offering the Shrouded Mountain Sect an escape. Ultimately, events unfolded per his design. Enemies defeated, he traded relentless cultivation and preparations for leisure.

It clarified his present conduct; in high spirits, he granted them honor, much like Sects funding lavish mortal celebrations.

Some useful notes emerged, though. He ignored all bared flesh. Women presented to him received treatment like grandchildren chatting with grandpa. He and his wife conversed, complimented their abilities, then dismissed them with kind words.

His wife earned rising admiration too. Lady Meiling dismissed the blatant overtures. Utterly assured of success's futility, she embodied the poised, elegant, immensely potent woman fit to claim such a man.

Huifang departed with a slight smile. Master Rou’s gaze skipped her, seeking the next.

Ah, the Crossed Branches Sect. Xinling grinned, granting their turn.

“So, what have we learned?” she queried her daughters.

“He relishes discussions of natural splendor. Wealth talk leaves him unmoved—of course, being Cloudy Sword Sect. It’s like handing a king a dirt clod.” Xinlei huffed, pressing on. “He inquires about mortals and their existences, and hasn’t pledged anything throughout.”

“He’s so kind. He chats and grins, and everyone leaves beaming,” Xinyue gazed puzzled at the man. “He differs vastly from Lord Lu Ri.”

“He frequently peeks at his mortal attendants, and during pauses, exchanges words with them,” Xintong noted after pausing, tilting her head. “And… I’ve heard that one’s name before. Isn’t his surname matching Xinlai’s target?”

“Oh?” Xinling responded. She eyed the strikingly handsome mortal. He’d aged with grace, and truly, he resembled an osmanthus rice cake, didn’t he? Yet Xintong was right. Something rang familiar…

“Intriguing. Well, time has passed sufficiently,” Xinling declared, rising, ensuring flawless appearance and robes perfectly arranged. “Let’s go, dears. First impressions set, now we seal them.”

The queue reluctantly yielded to her and her daughters, clearing path, and soon they stood before him.

“Master Rou, delight to perform for you once more,” Xinling saluted, bowing deeply. His aura loomed immense always, but this near? It draped her shoulders… yet weighed nothing. No force to kneel her, unlike insecure weaklings. Rather, it buoyed her.

This defined true power. True might. Exquisitely transcendent. Mere proximity to this Yang pinnacle quickened her inner Yin torrents. Fancy cultivating amid this potent aura? She’d rival only Master Rou himself—and maybe his wife. Or ideally… passionate nights. He’d receive exquisite care, propelling her to Spiritual Realm. Mutual triumph.

Still, overt desperation ill-suited a Lady. Pride endured.

“Lady Xinling, joy to meet again. Your music made a splendid opener,” he answered. The accolade echoed anew.

“I’d gladly entertain you and your esteemed wife anytime; here or in private quarters,” Xinling offered, locking eyes with the formidable lady and bowing her Qi too. The woman arched a brow at the words and deference.

“...Perhaps,” Lady Meiling replied after pause. “Pleased to meet Miss Xinlai’s mother. Tales of her virtue abound. You’ve nurtured an exemplary daughter.”

Xinling reeled from the commendation, then swelled with pride. Note to thank Grand Marshal and Tigu. They dispensed praise generously, not hoarding, and excelled at it, she conceded.

“Xinlai excels; the Acting Lord Magistrate proves ideal. He retrieved my stolen guzheng even. We owe tonight to him.”

“We shall. We head to him next. His parents eagerly await his tales.”

He faced the mortal servants; Xinling steadied her breath. Related, then! But…

“Ah, his father serves you?” she probed cautiously. “So he followed your directives…?”

Was it all orchestrated by him? Grass Sea City in his grasp?

“Regrettably, our son possesses… a willful streak? He omitted mentioning his Special Inspector role,” the dashing elder stated with a charming, honest grin. Xinling read mortals clearer than Master Rou, and truth rang clear.

Ah, no calculated conquest—just a disciple of Master Rou and Cloudy Sword Sect, enacting good deeds for the province. Logical.

And elevated Xinlai’s chase delightfully!

“Wonderful my son assisted you, Lady Xinling. Your performance enthralled,” the female mortal attendant said softly smiling.

“Indeed! Oh yes, your son’s a true gentleman!” Xinling exclaimed. Progress! Entry point! Daughter wed to Master Rou’s servant? Perfect. “And quite the dashing rogue. Clear where he inherits it.”

Both laughed lightly.

“Share how he aided you, My Lady? Details are scant…” the lady urged, eyes beseeching.

“Gladly! Master Rou, if you permit?” she sought.

He nodded. “Yes, and I’m curious on this guzheng theft too. Sounds adventurous.”

Xinling inwardly cheered. Masterful ploy! Fortunate indeed!

=====================================================================================================

Dulou Gan strove for patience, curbing his spiraling nerves. His debut as Sect Master loomed. Upon his shoulders rested all.

With Uncle crippled by choice, he relinquished Sect Mastership. He vowed atonement through remaining days for his transgressions.

Uncle Gang now handled basic chores—from their memory crystal. He scrubbed Wreckerball shells, prepared vast salads they favored, tended nesting creches. Beasts he once vowed to eradicate received his utmost care.

He performed sightless, cultivation shattered. Stumbles, falls, collisions. Muscles strained near rupture.

Yet he pressed on his path, regret-free.

His devotion awed Gan—brash, vulgar Uncle transformed into serenity’s epitome, breathtakingly profound.

The Wreckerballs responded similarly. It anchored their fragile accord. Gan labored beside uncle, aiding kin-like creatures, bridging understanding—and claiming friends, hopefully.

Scars lingered deeply. Bonds teetered… but Lord Yao’s shell, sacrificed for them, birthed nascent peace.

Sect Master selection never occurred to him at first. An Elder surely?

Yet they picked him.

Not solely leadership—Wreckerballs endorsed via uncle.

As closest to Ancestors, they claimed.

Thus he arrived.

To greet a Cloudy Sword Sect member.

No pressure.

Mountain Man? Beizi inquired from under Gan’s shirt. The young Wreckerball hugged chest and belly like armor. Barely adolescent, undersized for age.

“Yes, the Mountain Ma—” Gan answered his sly companion. Other Wreckerballs grew cautious hearing of the touring powerhouse. Though Gan trusted Master Rou harmless, they hid in Lord Yao’s shell.

Most did. Beizi escaped, reached Peaks alone, pleaded to meet ‘Mountain Man’—Gan’s descriptor of Master Rou’s mountain-like power.

Promising, Beizi stated.

…Encouraging, Gan mused. Now avoid folly before the mighty cultivator.

He inhaled, centering. Xianghua visited, honoring ‘fellow Sect Master.’ Lady Xinling passed, seeking uncle to boast—scoffed upon absence. Xintong winked smiling; Xinyue blew kiss.

He fought blushing.

His turn came. Xiulan—Grand Marshal—smiled nodded, beckoning.

Swallow, advance.

Nothing prepared truly, just greeting. Sect too chaotic for gifts. Hoped no offense.

Delivered formally; Master accepted graciously. Expected end, but Beizi erred boldly, post-stillness vow.

Shirt wriggled; Beizi emerged, sniffing.

Mountain Man! the youth exclaimed. Master Rou startled; Gan panicked.

“Apologies, Master Rou—” he began, but man grinned broadly—wife too.

“Greetings, Beizi,” Master Rou said, comprehending effortlessly, offering respect gesture. Months for Gan’s consistent hearing; many cultivators couldn’t! “Pleasure meeting Lord Yao’s kin.”

Beizi wriggled excitedly, vaulting table. Chattered joyfully. Friend! he proclaimed, extending knuckles Wreckerball-style.

Master Rou tapped fists to the tiny Spirit Beast’s.

“Quite the lively fellow, eh?” he said warmly.

Everyone says so! Beizi nodded.

“I’ll bet!” Lady Meiling beamed at the chest-sized Spirit Beast. “Frequent mountain rolls?”

Beizi babbled to the amused lady; Master Rou addressed Gan.

“Heard of Wreckerballs and your Sect; anticipated this.”

“Sorry! No offense meant, they feared—” Master Rou dismissed Gan’s alarm.

“Comprehensible,” he replied sans regret. “Won’t impose if uneasy.”

…Truly benevolent, Master Rou.

“Gratitude, Master Rou,” Gan said, retrieving Beizi—flipped, Lady Meiling scratching belly fur. Absurd sight, the rascal. ‘Travel-ready’ nonsense! Pure kid!

Drooling Wreckerball twitched suddenly.

Visit Sect? Beizi urged.

“If Elders desire,” Master Rou consented.

They will! Beizi boasted.

“Undoubtedly,” Master Rou affirmed. “Later, Beizi.”

Yay! the Wreckerball whooped.

Gan bowed, stuffing Beizi away.

Nearly seated, realization hit: Master Rou offered Sect visit.

…Secured unbidden?

=====================================================================================================

Night persisted, concluding sans turmoil. No clashes. Peace reigned under Grand Marshal’s vigilance.

Yet dissatisfaction lingered.

=====================================================================================================

“Humiliating, groveling and fawning for scraps of favor.” Disgust weighted the words. Assents rippled round table.

Ye Shun attended, refilling drink for independent peer Qin Lie. Ye Shun knew of Master Rou’s visit, Dueling Town’s buzz—but invitation bypassed him, missing arrival amid manor arrangements here… a peculiar ordeal.