The Beggar’s Staff of Lao Ba Chapter 31.3

Chapter 31

Part 3

 

It wasn’t until he stood in the grand hall of the Qingcheng Sect that Gouzi finally came to his senses. Only when he saw a white-bearded elder approach him and kindly ask his name did Gouzi shiver and snap out of his daze.

The old man in purple robes had benevolent eyes and a gentle expression, looking just like an immortal from a painting. The venerable sage smiled and asked Gouzi, Child, would you be willing to take me as your master?” Dazed, Gouzi asked, “Are you a god?”

The old Taoist stroked his white beard, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “Hahaha, what an amusing lad. I am no god, but a cultivator—Ji Huan, the Grandmaster of the Qingcheng Sect. Now, tell me, would you be willing to become my disciple?”

An elder in purple robes beside him said to Gouzi, ” You’ve struck incredibly lucky. The Grandmaster rarely takes disciples. He has only five pupils. If you agree, you’ll become a core disciple of the Qingcheng Sect, with access to all manner of rare treasures and spiritual resources.”

Gouzi was utterly flustered, his eyes darting about. He’d never imagined becoming a cultivator, much less that discovering his Fire Spirit Root would bring such immense fortune upon him. It all felt unreal, like a dream.

He pinched his waist hard—the sharp pain proved he wasn’t dreaming. Doggie had been a street urchin all his life, drifting from place to place, beaten and scolded. Though naturally optimistic and cheerful, he wasn’t stupid. His momentary daze had passed, and now he began calculating his options.

Ji Huan was indeed the leader of the Qingcheng Sect, and he had taken him on as a disciple solely because of his Fire Spirit Root. Old Wen and the others had spoken of it before—some cultivators would even kill their own wives and children to prove their devotion to the path. Gouzi couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to gain Ji Huan’s approval. Right now, he only possessed a fire spirit root. He knew nothing about cultivating the Dao. Don’t blame him for his dark thoughts—he just felt Ji Huan intended to use him.

If Ji Huan heard Gouzi’s thoughts, he’d surely laugh in his face. While spirit roots were crucial for cultivators, possessing one without guidance meant stumbling blindly forward. Many would perish before reaching their goals. Doggie possessed excellent cultivation roots, but reaching a level where Ji Huan could utilize him would likely take many, many years.

Ji Huan genuinely sought a disciple now. He was on the verge of breaking through to mid-Yuan婴 stage. Success would be one thing, but failure meant his current state could only be barely sustained for a few hundred years at most. For mortals, living hundreds of years is already remarkable, but for cultivators, centuries pass in the blink of an eye.

If this were anyone else—a sect elder offering to take a menial servant as a disciple—the person would likely have already knelt down, shouting “Master!” But Doggie is different.

Doggie was deeply distrustful of others. When someone showed him sudden kindness, he grew anxious and apprehensive: “Honored Ancestor, I, Li Ergou, am merely an ordinary mortal. You hold me in far too high esteem. I know nothing of cultivating the Dao. Besides, I still have elders in my family. If I were to take you as my master, I must first obtain their consent.”

Ji Huan actually looked at Doggie with newfound respect. He’d seen too many menial servants swell with pride the moment they learned they possessed spiritual roots. They’d be ecstatic just to become inner-door disciples, let alone have an ancient ancestor offer them discipleship.

Before Ji Huan could respond, a dismissive snort echoed from nearby: “Grandfather, this lowly insect is short-sighted and ungrateful. Why bother with such politeness? Are you, a venerable Nascent Soul cultivator, begging him? In my opinion, you shouldn’t lower yourself to take such a person as a disciple. Qingcheng Sect has poured countless treasures into cultivating him, yet he still hesitates and makes excuses. Just put the word out—a single word from you would draw disciples lining up from the sect gates all the way to Qingcheng Town’s entrance.”

Ji Huan sighed softly. “Gang’er, you’re back.” His ruddy cheeks softened into a gentle smile. “Why so early? Didn’t you chat longer with Rou’er?”

Er Gouzi followed the sound and saw a youth in crimson robes standing at the doorway. He was as graceful as a jade tree in the wind, his bearing elegant and refined. Yet, his eyes and brows were filled with impatience, suggesting a rather short temper.

This youth was none other than Ji Huan’s own grandson. Ji Huan had long pursued the path of righteousness, only finding a Dao companion and fathering a son upon reaching the early stage of the Nascent Soul cultivation. Yet fate dealt a cruel blow—his son possessed no aptitude for cultivation. Despite Ji Huan’s tireless efforts, he could only watch helplessly as the boy passed away. Fortunately, the son had left behind a bloodline. This grandson possessed innate Wood Spirit Roots, and Ji Huan longed to shower him with every treasure in the world.