Chapter 22: Setting Up the Gambling Game

White Feiyu paid no mind to the enticements of those around him. How could sparrows comprehend the ambitions of a swan?

“Elder, I’ll repeat myself once more: I want to accept the mission,” White Feiyu said calmly, his tone resolute.

Seeing White Feiyu still putting on an act at such a moment, the elder was momentarily stunned before a cold sneer appeared on his face.

“If you take on an ordinary mission and fail to complete it, you’ll lose a month’s worth of spirit stones,” he warned. “But this mission is not like those ordinary ones. If you accept it and fail, a mark will be added to your record. For half a year, you won’t be able to receive any cultivation resources from the sect.”

“Are you sure you want to take it?”

This time, the elder refrained from ridicule, instead laying out the terms coldly.

The Chaos Minister Mountains had been urgently pressing the Guixu Sect to deal with Li Zikun, and recently, no one from the sect had made a move. But to send a mere seventh-layer Qi Refining disciple seemed utterly perfunctory—a disgrace to the sect’s reputation.

Yet the sect truly couldn’t restrict disciples from accepting missions. If White Feiyu insisted, the elders had no recourse.

The elder regarded White Feiyu, believing he had been explicit enough for the boy to reconsider. After all, losing half a year’s cultivation resources would devastate any inner disciple.

White Feiyu glanced at the elder. “Why are you so verbose? Just give me the mission and be done with it.”

“I have my own plans.”

His words stunned everyone present. They hadn’t expected that, at such a juncture, White Feiyu would still persist.

They couldn’t understand—was it worth risking his future or his life for pride?

“Elder, since this junior insists, are you still going to stop him?” someone called out.

“That’s right, just give him the mission. If he’s determined to die, you can’t stop him.”

Several disciples spoke up to the elder; they could no longer stand White Feiyu’s audacity.

“Fine, you have guts. Since you insist, not even immortals can save you now!” the elder said, taking a deep breath. He tapped the mission, and a streak of spiritual light flew into White Feiyu’s mission token.

In all his years in Guixu Sect, he had never seen such a stubborn disciple.

Since the boy was so intent, why bother blocking him? Let him go.

The surrounding disciples burst into laughter as White Feiyu accepted the mission, doubling over in amusement.

“Haha, now he’s dumbfounded—he probably didn’t expect to actually receive it!”

“Let’s see how he handles it. Half a year’s worth of spirit stones is no small sum.”

“We’ll just watch the spectacle.”

White Feiyu ignored the mockery, shrugged, and said, “Since none of you believe I can finish the mission, what if I do?”

“How about this: let’s make a wager. Everyone puts up five spirit stones, and I’ll wager a year’s worth of my own. The elder can act as the arbiter.”

“If I complete the mission within half a year, your spirit stones go to me. If I fail, my year’s worth goes to you. What do you say?”

White Feiyu challenged the surrounding disciples.

He hadn’t come here to be humiliated; he had anticipated these events before arriving.

Everything was planned—he endured the ridicule precisely to set up this wager.

After all, simply completing missions was too slow to amass spirit stones. Wealth comes from bold action, so he was determined to make a big score.

“What? He’s on the verge of disaster and still dares to bet?”

“Why worry? He’s foolish and flush with stones—we’d be fools not to profit.”

“Exactly, what an opportunity! Earn some spirit stones and watch a joke unfold.”

Though surprised by White Feiyu’s stubbornness, many disciples placed their bets, swayed by the lure of profit.

White Feiyu found an elder to arbitrate, staking a year’s worth of spirit stones.

If you’re going to play, play big—he was determined to make a windfall and establish himself quickly.

Soon, with the encouragement of the crowd, the total wager reached fourteen hundred spirit stones.

Nearly every disciple present bet against White Feiyu completing the mission.

The elder personally acted as arbiter—no one could renege now.

“Let’s see how he ends up in half a year,” the disciples looked on as if watching a farce.

Even the elders in the mission hall shook their heads. Youthful pride was one thing, but to wager a year’s spirit stones was reckless.

A year’s time could advance one’s cultivation immensely.

More importantly, one’s youth is the time to lay foundations. Losing a year would have great consequences for the future.

“Well then, wait for half a year. I doubt it’ll take that long,” White Feiyu said, his eyes gleaming with greed at the pile of spirit stones.

To others, this greed appeared foolish.

What isn’t yours can never truly belong to you.

After the wager was settled, White Feiyu left the mission hall, breathed in the fresh air, and departed at once.

He had to prepare for the task ahead.

He had to admit, a ninth-layer Haoqi Realm cultivator was unlike any foe he’d faced before. This mission could easily end in disaster if he wasn’t careful.

So, before undertaking it, White Feiyu resolved to strengthen himself a bit.

“Brother Yu, I didn’t expect to meet you here! How’s life in the inner sect?” At that moment, White Feiyu spotted a former dorm mate, now an outer disciple, though he seemed unsure of his own purpose.

“Not bad. How about you all?” White Feiyu asked, puzzled.

The disciple looked disheveled and fatigued, his complexion poor—an odd sight.

After all, a dormitory producing an inner sect disciple was something to celebrate for a long time.

It shouldn’t be cause for such gloom.

White Feiyu sensed something was amiss.

Hearing White Feiyu’s words, the disciple clenched his fists, hesitating.

It was uncharacteristic; ordinarily, upon seeing him, they should rush to him like a savior and pour out their woes.

White Feiyu frowned, “What’s going on? Speak up. If you don’t, I’ll leave!”