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Chapter 31: Li Sibao's Hesitation
Chapter 31: Li Sibao’s Hesitation
Steward Chen’s mind churned with frustration.
After attending the celebration banquet yesterday, the clan elders had summoned him for yet another discussion. Their veiled message was clear—they wanted him to resign as Deputy Manager of the Secondary Academy and return to the clan to focus on alchemy, countering the Jiang family’s growing dominance in the pill market.
The Chen clan prided itself on dual mastery of alchemy and artifact forging, but since the Jiang family’s rise, they’d lost much of their pill trade, profits plummeting by half. A critical factor was forging time.
Previously, the Chen clan supplied most second-tier pills, and Foundation Stage cultivators not only paid handsomely but also waited in long queues. Now, competitors offered faster service, luring away clients. As a Foundation Stage cultivator, if Steward Chen mastered pill forging, he could reclaim much of this business.
Yet he’d never cared for alchemy, preferring to study diverse spells. His status as a direct heir meant he’d avoided pressure before—until now. With trade routes severed, the clan’s forging business had collapsed.
Li Zhou’s poverty-stricken region once relied on mining local spirit stones, forging artifacts for wealthy outsiders. But the Divine Flame Sect’s consolidation of power threatened to block trade routes for years, forcing the clan to slash artifact production. Otherwise, prices would crash.
In fact, two months ago, the Chen clan had secretly agreed with two other forging families to reduce output—plummeting their income.
The elders now scrutinized Steward Chen: a Foundation Stage cultivator without a craft? Unacceptable. Especially after witnessing the Song family’s prodigy, their comparisons weighed heavily on him.
“I can contribute three extra spirit stones monthly, but I truly dislike alchemy,” Steward Chen tried deflecting, but this time it failed.
“We’re not demanding your stones—we want you to earn from outsiders,” the elders countered. “What use are your stones to us? We’re all Chens; it’s just shifting coins between pockets.”
“With local pill shops now sustaining the clan, Zhi’an, help your old uncle. He’s aging.”
Steward Chen gazed skyward, frustration burning like fire. Wait—why did that flame look so real?
Ten breaths later, a pale sword light descended.
He froze the entire roof with a wave, spotting Xiao Chen nearby using a Water Healing Technique on the near-lifeless Li Sibao.
“What happened?” Steward Chen demanded, checking Li Sibao’s pulse.
Xiao Chen exhaled in relief. The toxin was worse than expected—half an hour more, and it would’ve reached the heart. Steward Chen’s timing was perfect.
“Report, Manager. This one was resting when Li Sibao attacked. I wounded him in self-defense, but he was poisoned. He claims someone hired him.”
Li Sibao rasped, “Manager… save me… poison buried at the right wall corner… half a bottle left…”
Desperate to live, he revealed the wine bottle’s location, hoping to identify the toxin.
Steward Chen’s voice remained calm. “Don’t fear. Tell me—who gave you the wine?”
“Don’t know… but I saw his face. Let me recover, and I’ll lead you to him.”
Steward Chen turned to Xiao Chen. “Any enemies lately?”
Before Xiao Chen could answer, Li Sibao gasped, “Save me first—!”
The healing technique had paused, letting the toxin surge. Yet Steward Chen did nothing—just retrieved a pill from his treasure pouch.
It resembled a common nourishing qi pill but exuded a crisp, spring-like fragrance. Xiao Chen inhaled it, feeling revitalized. Li Sibao’s eyes brightened.
“This is a family heirloom,” Steward Chen explained. “But it’s costly—more than your life. Choose: prove your worth, or I’ll take you to the elders.”
Li Sibao lunged for the pill, strength surging.
Slap!
Steward Chen swatted his hand. “Or I’ll try saving you, but if you delay… no guarantees.”
Li Sibao hesitated. He suspected the culprit was from Cangyan Sect, one of Li Zhou’s three major sects. Though outwardly harmonious, the sects harbored endless rivalries.
Li Zhou’s scarce resources—four major spirit veins supporting three sects and the Thousand Bamboo Bazaar—fueled fierce competition. Thousands of minor veins birthed countless cultivator families and solitary cultivators, creating brutal infighting.
Cangyan Sect and Lihuo Sect, both fire-attribute sects, had loathed each other for millennia, each wishing the other’s annihilation to monopolize resources.
Li Sibao feared admitting the truth would brand him a traitor. Even saved now, he’d likely die later.
But he wouldn’t get the chance.
A sudden gush of blood erupted from his mouth, eating into the floor—black pits steaming with toxic fumes. He slumped, lifeless.
“Li Sibao!” Steward Chen checked his pulse, then pocketed the pill, brow furrowed. “A terrifying toxin—evolving even after death.”
“Wait here. I’ll fetch the elders.”
Xiao Chen nodded, staying as Steward Chen departed.
Moments later, Li Sibao’s corpse melted into black blood. Within a quarter-hour, only his low-grade flying sword resisted the corrosion, gleaming faintly. The ground bubbled with a smoking crater.
Two quarters later, Steward Chen returned with Elder Chen, an unfamiliar elder, and several disciples in enforcer robes.
(End of Chapter)
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