Chapter Eight: System Task—Where Is the New Disciple?

This kind of herb, once nourished, becomes a heavenly treasure—something no amount of money could buy.

To accelerate Zhao Changsheng’s cultivation, several precious herbs were selected to be refined into pills for him. With these, no matter how formidable the opponent, they would be no match for Zhao Changsheng.

Having a system—nice!

Zhao Changsheng swallowed the pill, and instantly the medicinal power surged through his body like a torrent, his spiritual energy erupting like a volcano.

The sensation was unprecedentedly exhilarating.

It was as if a mighty flood within his body suddenly exploded forth.

He hurriedly seated himself cross-legged, guiding the energy while enduring the intense pain.

Soon, accompanied by a thunderous roar, the wild fluctuations of spiritual energy dispersed. He had successfully stepped into the Tribulation Crossing Realm.

“Done! My disciple has broken through!”

Zhao Changsheng stood up, his face brimming with pride.

Ye Xinghe was overjoyed as well: “Excellent! Tomorrow at the Martial Arena, no one will stand in our way!”

At dawn, on Tongtian Peak of the Sanctuary, the mist curled around the summit. Normally a tranquil and serene scene, it was now clouded with chaos stirred by a band of uninvited guests.

The various peak masters seemed to have conspired, arriving together in groups.

They all believed that Zhao Changsheng was a talent wasted under Ye Xinghe’s guidance.

The leader, the Master of Spirit Sword Peak, crossed his arms, chin raised with disdain, and cast a scornful glance across Tongtian Peak. In a sarcastic tone, he sneered: “Oh, Ye Xinghe, it’s already the ninth day, and you still have time to lounge around here? With your third-rate skills, you actually hope to train the top disciple of the outer sect? Don’t end up losing so badly you’re left with nothing, ruining this promising young talent too.”

The Master of Divine Medicine Peak stroked his beard and chimed in mockingly, shaking his head: “Exactly, exactly. You must be blind to waste such a gem. A gifted seedling like that, stuck doing menial chores under you, where’s any sign of cultivation? You’re a hopeless case yourself—don’t corrupt others; misleading disciples is a grave sin.”

The other peak masters joined in, their laughter mingling with scorn, echoing through Tongtian Peak.

They had long looked down on Ye Xinghe and would not hold back their tongues now.

Ye Xinghe, initially seated on a stone bench sipping tea, did not even lift his eyelids. He leisurely took a sip, savoring the aroma before rising with a half-smile, eyes glinting with amusement as he faced the crowd.

“Well, you all got up early today, coming in groups to tour my Tongtian Peak? But speaking of corrupting disciples, who’s worse—you or me?”

His gaze locked onto the Master of Spirit Sword Peak, a playful curve tugging at his lips.

“Master of Spirit Sword, remember your prized disciple sneaking down the mountain without permission? He claimed it was for experience, but actually, he was off enjoying the pleasures of the red-light district. He was stuck there, almost unable to return, and you had to sneak in to rescue him. That story has spread all over the Sanctuary. And here you are, still worrying about my disciple?”

The Spirit Sword Master’s face darkened as if slapped publicly, reddening with rage: “You... you’re talking nonsense!”

How could he know?

Ye Xinghe ignored his flustered outburst and turned to the Master of Divine Medicine Peak.

“And you, Master of Divine Medicine, you quarreled fiercely with the steward of the neighboring peak over a millennium-old ginseng root, resulting in a bloody fight where neither of you won, and the precious ginseng was snatched away by a passing low-level spirit beast. That story has become a joke in our Sanctuary.”

The Divine Medicine Master’s eyes widened, his beard trembling with anger: “Ye Xinghe, stop slandering!”

How did he know about that?

Ye Xinghe shrugged innocently: “I’m not making this up. Many disciples witnessed it. So, you can fabricate stories about me, but I can't tell the truth?”

He swept his gaze around and continued his tirade.

“Master of Bright Moon Peak, your secluded retreat was accidentally intruded upon by a disciple, who thought they’d encountered a ghost because you were applying a beauty mud mask inside. Have you forgotten that?”

Bright Moon Peak’s usually dignified and composed female master now blushed furiously, wishing to disappear. Gritting her teeth, she cursed: “Ye Xinghe, you shameless scoundrel!”

Ye Xinghe clicked his tongue twice, still wearing that infuriating smile.

“Shameless? You all come here early in the morning to point fingers and mock me, yet now I’m the shameless one? Can’t even clean your own mess but want to pick on others? That’s really embarrassing.”

The peak masters were left speechless and unable to rebut.

They had come intending to humiliate Ye Xinghe, but instead, he exposed their own embarrassing secrets, turning them into the laughingstock.

After a long moment of frustration, unable to retort, they glared venomously before slinking away down the mountain.

Watching their retreating, discomfited backs, Ye Xinghe snorted softly, sat back down on the stone bench, raised his tea cup, and said leisurely: “Don’t bother me if you have nothing to do; you’re just wasting your own time.”

No sooner had Ye Xinghe sent the enraged peak masters away and settled down to enjoy the brief tranquility than a cold, mechanical system prompt suddenly echoed in his mind.

“Ding! Initiated disciple recruitment task. Host must recruit a prodigious disciple with pure spiritual roots within three days. Failure to comply will result in revocation of all previously granted rewards.”

Ye Xinghe froze, his hand holding the tea cup abruptly halted mid-air. The carefree expression vanished, replaced by utter disbelief and speechlessness.

“Now? A disciple recruitment task? Right now, all my focus is on Zhao Changsheng, hoping he will shine at tomorrow’s Martial Arena. Where would I find the time for another disciple? Besides, prodigies with pure spiritual roots aren’t just lying around. This is deliberately making things difficult for me!”

He grumbled resentfully at the system in his heart.

But the system ignored him completely.

Damn it!

“System, system, can’t you cut me some slack? This is a bad time! You throw a disciple recruitment task at me now, I’m simply stretched too thin.”

Yet the system showed no mercy. Its cold electronic voice rang out again: “Host, once the task is issued, it must be executed. If no disciple is recruited, all rewards previously earned through Zhao Changsheng’s cultivation—including the armory, the ancient divine weapon Lingguan Halberd, the hundred-acre medicinal field, and the Chaos Divine Essence—will be immediately revoked.”

Ye Xinghe’s eyes widened, nearly hopping mad: “You dog of a system, so unreasonable! I’ve already put those rewards to use; you can’t just take them back on a whim!”

No matter how much he protested silently, the system remained unresponsive, leaving only that chilling task reminder to echo like a tightening spell around his head, causing a headache.

Helpless, Ye Xinghe put down his cup, wrapped his hands around his head, face clouded with worry, muttering: “Forget it, no point arguing with this heartless system. But where on earth am I supposed to find a suitable disciple in three days? The Sanctuary is vast, but most exceptional talents have already been claimed by the peaks. The rest are either mediocre or ill-tempered. Finding one who meets the criteria will be like climbing to the heavens.”