My Years as a Menace in the Sect

On the fifth day after the drying room opened, trouble came knocking.

As dawn broke, Wei Ping'an was squatting in front of his workbench, kneading a new batch of pills—the kind with a little ginseng root added. His fingertips were covered in yellowish-brown medicinal powder, and he was humming a little tune.

The wooden sign reading "Ping An Tang" on the windowsill was upside down to avoid being seen by passersby and causing trouble. Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps outside, more than one person, approaching aggressively. His heart skipped a beat. He threw the meatballs in his hand onto the tray, grabbed the black pot from the corner, and swept all the finished meatballs drying on the windowsill into the haystack, slamming the pot upside down. He poured the remaining raw powder into a sack of waste medicine residue, stirred it, and mixed it until it was unrecognizable. In less than three breaths, the door was kicked open with a bang.

Leading the group was Zhao Ping, a trusted subordinate of Steward Sun. He had been standing next to Steward Sun when the pills went missing in the square last time, followed by two servants from the miscellaneous service department.

"Someone reported you for illegally refining pills. Come with us for verification." He glanced at Wei Ping'an sideways, waved his hand, and said, "Search! Search thoroughly!" The two men barged in without saying a word, pulling the wooden frame to the side and tearing a large hole in the sack containing waste medicine residue, spilling brownish-yellow fragments all over the ground.

The old tools hanging on the wall were torn down and scattered all over the floor, and even the wooden sign that read "Ping An Tang" was knocked off and rolled twice on the ground. Wei Ping An stood to one side with his arms crossed, looking innocent, and even pointed to the corner of the wall: "Big brother, there's a pile of dry hay over there, do you want to check it? Maybe I hid the pills in the haystack."

He knew perfectly well: the finished products were all hidden under the black pot, piled high with dry straw, looking like a pile of firewood from the outside. Who would have thought that there were meatballs hidden under the iron pot? The raw materials were all mixed in with the waste residue; even if they were found, they could only be said to be waste materials brought in by the drug testing center for disposal.

Zhao Ping and his group searched for almost half an hour, even digging up rat holes in the corner, but they didn't find a single finished pill. They only found a pile of grass roots and dregs of medicine. Zhao Ping's face darkened: "You better really didn't hide anything. If I catch you, you'll be in big trouble."

"Brother Zhao, what are you saying? How could a lowly servant in the Medicine Testing Hall dare to privately refine pills?" Wei Ping'an said with a wronged expression, pointing to the mess on the ground. "You've messed up all the waste materials I collected from the Medicine Testing Hall and sorted them. Senior Uncle Zheng asked me to clean them up, and I won't be able to explain it to you later. How about... you compensate me for the loss of medicinal materials? It's not much, just ten low-grade spirit stones will do, I'll clean it up myself slowly."

Zhao Ping was stunned for a moment, almost laughing in anger. They hadn't found anything and were being extorted instead. If this escalated and reached the ears of the Danfeng Elders, it would seem like Deacon Sun was targeting a lowly servant. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out ten low-grade spirit stones from his pocket and slammed them onto the crooked wooden shelf: "Fine, you win. Let's go!" The three of them slammed the door and left.

Wei Ping'an waited until the footsteps completely disappeared before going over to lock the door. He leaned against the door and let out a long sigh of relief; his back was soaked with sweat.

He walked to the wooden shelf, scooped up ten spirit stones into his palm, held them up to the ventilation window, and examined them one by one in the morning light. He ran his fingertips along the translucent edges to make sure that each stone was free of cracks before stuffing them into his inner pocket. He pressed each stone down with his palm, and after stuffing all ten stones in, the pocket bulged out a large lump on his chest.

"Little money-grubber." A faint voice suddenly came from the doorway.

He turned around abruptly and saw Shen Qingyao standing by the door, her hand on the door, her clothes covered with bits of grass, the shelves were all crooked and overturned, and the dregs of medicine were spilled all over the floor. She didn't go to help her up but just stood there with her arms crossed.

"Why do you walk so quietly!" Wei Ping'an clutched his chest. "I thought Zhao Ping had come back again."

"I just arrived and listened outside for a while," Shen Qingyao kicked a piece of broken wood at her feet. "Don't be too smug. Once Zhao Ping goes back and tells Steward Sun, he won't just send three people next time." "I know, that's why I've been thinking about it all night," he squatted down and rummaged through the dregs on the ground. "We're not selling the finished pills anymore, we'll find another way to sell the powder."

Shen Qingyao raised an eyebrow at him. "Let's call it Wenqi San," he gestured with his hand, "purified from waste medicinal residue, with added Bletilla striata root to adjust its medicinal properties. Whoever buys it can mix it into the Qi-Nourishing San issued by the sect. We don't make pills, we only make powder. Even if the sect rules are strict, can they really control the servants mixing their own Qi-tonifying powder? The price is also easy to set, three qian and two spirit stones per pack, half the price of the finished pills. It takes a little longer to work, but it's safe and can't be detected."

Shen Qingyao looked down at the pile of yellowish-brown powder on the ground: "How did you explain this to your Uncle Zheng?"

"Give him a ten percent share," he said matter-of-factly. "If he gets any benefits, I guarantee you'll turn a blind eye. And with Master Zheng acting as a figurehead steward, there's nothing you can do about it."

Shen Qingyao nodded: "Have you thought about this? Even if the word gets out and more people buy it, Steward Sun can still find a reason to investigate you. Disrupting the supply of pills by privately mixing medicinal powder is no small crime."

"That's why we can't sell them openly," he grinned, walked to the corner, and parted the dry grass to reveal an overturned black pot underneath. "Find a few trustworthy buyers to pass on the word and trade privately. Let Zhang Erpang use the handymen he knows as intermediaries. Give him half a spirit stone for every pack sold. It'll be done secretly. Even if Steward Sun hears something, he won't be able to catch them in the act."

Shen Qingyao looked at him. Morning light shone through the gaps in the ventilation window. The boy stood with his back to the light, casting a long shadow. When he talked about these intricacies, his eyes shone like freshly shelled peas.

"Divide it into six parts. I get four and you get six."

Wei Ping'an's face immediately fell: "No! Senior Sister Shen! Didn't we agree last time that the pills would be split 40/60? I was the one who came up with the idea for this Qi-stabilizing powder, I found the distribution channels, and I took the lion's share of the risk. How can it still be 40/60?"

"Four or six," she said calmly, "otherwise I could find a place to make it myself and sell it just the same. Besides, you can't get the information about the medicinal herbs in Danfeng without me."

He opened his mouth, but seeing her expressionless face, he knew that bargaining was useless. "Alright, alright, 40/60 it is. Who told you to be my senior sister?" He took out a freshly packaged packet of Qi-stabilizing powder from his pocket and handed it to her. "Take this packet back and try it out. Give me some feedback so I can improve the formula later."

Shen Qingyao took it, unwrapped the oil paper, smelled it, weighed it in her hand, and put it in her bosom: "It's alright."

She bent down and picked up a few whole medicinal herbs that had fallen to the ground, putting them back on the shelf. "I'm going back to Danfeng this afternoon to report. A new batch of Bletilla striata root will be delivered in a couple of days. Try not to go near Deacon Sun too much lately."

"I know, I know, I'm not stupid." She walked to the door, put her hand on the door panel, paused for a moment, and said without turning around, "The herb gathering mission in Luoxia Valley is about to start accepting applications. You'd better not sign up. Things haven't been peaceful there lately. Two rogue cultivators died last month." After saying that, she opened the door and left. The mountain wind blew in, swirling the herb powder on the ground.

Wei Ping'an squatted on the ground, stuffed some licorice into his mouth and chewed it. It tasted sweet with a slightly earthy smell. The herb-gathering task sounded tiring and dangerous; only a fool would sign up. He took out the cloth pouch from his chest and counted the ten spirit stones again, one, two, three, until he reached the tenth, feeling satisfied.

Just as he was happily calculating, footsteps sounded at the door again, heavier than Shen Qingyao's, with steady steps, each stomp evenly on the gravel path. He quickly shoved the spirit stones into his pocket, his other hand instantly gripping the edge of the pot, his muscles tensing. The footsteps stopped at the door, and someone knocked on the door panel, a cold voice asking, "Is Wei Ping'an in?" It was Zhou Yan. He sighed and loosened his grip on the pot: "Yes, I'm here. The door's unlocked."

Zhou Yan pushed open the door and came in, dressed in a neat gray robe with a gleaming token at his waist, and holding a scroll in his hand.

He glanced around at the mess on the floor, his brow furrowing slightly: "What happened here?"

"Hey, the men from the miscellaneous affairs department came by," Wei Ping'an said nonchalantly, kicking at the broken planks at his feet. "They said someone reported me for privately refining pills. They came over, searched the place, found nothing, paid some compensation for the damaged medicinal materials, and left."

Zhou Yan's eyes flickered slightly: "Deacon Sun's people?"

"Who else could it be but him?"

He didn't reply, but handed over the book: "The herb-gathering mission in Luoxia Valley has quotas for each hall. The Trial Hall has two slots, and Uncle Zheng said it's for you."

Wei Ping'an didn't take the book, completely stunned: "Uncle Zheng wants me to go? There are so many people in the medicine testing hall, how come it's my turn?"

"Deacon Sun nominated you, saying you're familiar with medicinal herbs and have a strong ability to identify them, so you could be of help. The list has already been submitted." He clenched his fist at his side and then released it, his knuckles turning white. What a deacon Sun! He can't find any evidence to openly investigate and confiscate things, so he secretly makes things difficult for me.

"Senior Brother Zhou, don't you think I'm just causing trouble for the team by going to Sunset Valley like this? Can you talk to Uncle Zheng and ask if we can find someone else? I'll chop ten more bundles of firewood when I get back!"

"The list has already been submitted to the Hall of Affairs and cannot be changed. We will depart in three days. I will be leading the team, which will consist of twelve people. We will collect twenty Purple Pattern Flowers. The reward is twenty spirit stones and a bottle of Qi Gathering Powder. Good performance will earn you an Outer Sect Contribution."

After a long pause, Wei Ping'an finally managed to utter two words: "I'll go."

Zhou Yan shoved the book into his hands: "Read the mission details yourself. Meet at the mountain gate at 5 a.m. in three days. Don't be late." He paused at the door. "Luoxia Valley has indeed been quite unsettled lately. Bring your own self-defense items and don't wander around after entering the mountain."

The door closed, leaving him alone in the drying room. He stood there for a long time before throwing the book onto the wooden shelf, walking to the corner, parting the dry straw to reveal a blackened pot, and patting its surface: "Old buddy, I'll have to rely on you again this time."

The next day, he got up at the crack of dawn to pack his things. He packed up all the goods in the drying room and slipped away before daybreak to find a more secluded little cave in the back mountain. He hid it under a pile of rocks, weighing it down with a large rock as a mark that only he could understand. He wiped the black pot three times with a coarse cloth, and re-tied the carrying straps with new hemp rope, padding them with two layers of soft cloth.

The medicines were also plentiful: ten small packets of calming powder, three pills of antidote wrapped in three layers of oil paper, and one small packet each of sleeping powder, lime powder, and dried chili powder, all tucked into different pockets, within easy reach.

When Zhang Erpang came to visit, he was stunned by the room full of odds and ends: "Are you going to gather herbs or settle down here?"

"What do you know? In a pinch, throwing it out to blind people is much more useful than a flying sword." He stuffed the last bag of dry rations into his bundle, tested its weight, and hoisted it onto his shoulder. "If anyone asks while I'm gone, just say you don't know. Hold off on the powder for now and wait until I get back."

"Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth shut!"

Three days passed in the blink of an eye. Before dawn, seven or eight people had already gathered at the mountain gate, their figures appearing blurry in the morning mist. Wei Ping'an, carrying a pot on his back and a bundle on his shoulder, stepped into the mist, deliberately finding a spot on the far side, staring down at the tips of his shoes.

Zhou Yan coughed, and the whole place fell silent: "Everyone's here. Once we're in the mountains, no one is allowed to leave the group or act alone. Follow my instructions. There are mostly Tier 1 monsters on the outer edge of Luoxia Valley, and Tier 2 monsters in the deeper parts. Be careful and don't risk your lives." The group walked into the mountains through the morning mist. After about two hours, the mist dissipated, and the sun shone through the gaps in the leaves. They had arrived at the outer edge of Luoxia Valley.

The air was filled with the scent of grass and earth, mixed with a faint, almost imperceptible smell of blood. Zhou Yan stopped to indicate that they would rest for a quarter of an hour. Wei Ping'an found a rock at the very back, sat down, took out a dry biscuit, and slowly chewed it, his eyes constantly scanning the surrounding bushes.

Suddenly, a light rustling sound came from the bushes to his left. He stopped chewing and listened carefully. The round-faced disciple next to him was still chatting and laughing, completely unaware. Wei Ping'an slowly put down the pancake in his hand, his hand silently reaching for the edge of the pot on his back.

The rustling sound grew closer, and a green shadow suddenly darted out of the bushes. "Watch out!" he cried out. In the blink of an eye, the Lingzhi Hall disciple saw a green-striped snake, as thick as a forearm, open its mouth and lunge straight at his ankle.

A flash of sword light appeared, and Xu Baochai, who had arrived at some unknown time, precisely struck the snake's vital spot with his longsword. The snake twisted twice and then remained still. "A first-tier green-striped snake isn't poisonous," he said, tossing the snake back into the bushes. "Watch where you're going." The disciple nodded repeatedly, his face pale.

Zhou Yan walked over, his expression grim: "The Green-Striped Snake usually only lives in damp valleys, how come it's on the outskirts? Everyone be alert and get to the camp at the valley entrance before dark."

The further into the valley you go, the denser the vegetation becomes and the narrower the path grows. The cliffs on both sides become increasingly higher, and the stench of blood in the air grows stronger, mixed with a burnt smell.

Zhou Yan slowed down and gestured for everyone to stop: "Something's not right. There wouldn't be this strong smell of blood at this time of year. Everyone, move closer together." After walking for about half an incense stick's time, an open space appeared in front of them. Everyone gasped when they saw what was in the open space.

Several corpses of rogue cultivators lay scattered on the open ground, some disemboweled, others charred black, the soil soaked in blood and turned a dark brown. Beside them lay the corpses of several Crimson Flame Wolves, bearing sword wounds and claw marks, as if they had perished together.

Several timid disciples turned pale and looked away, unable to watch. Wei Ping'an circled the pot lid with his fingers again and again, his stomach churning, but he forced it down.

Zhou squatted down to examine the animals and then stood up: "They've been dead for two days. Crimson Flame Wolves are second-tier demonic beasts that usually roam deep within the valley, so how could they have come to the outer perimeter in packs?"

A disciple from the Spirit Plant Hall said in a trembling voice, "Senior Brother Zhou, should we go back? It's too dangerous..."

"No, the mission has already been accepted and must be completed."

Wei Ping'an stood at the very back, his gaze sweeping over the wolf carcasses. Their crimson fur made them larger than ordinary wolves, their claws sharp, and their fangs pointed. He was calculating how to escape if he really encountered a pack of wolves when he suddenly heard a soft sound from the tree above him, like something falling onto a branch.

Xu Baochai, standing nearby, gave a low shout and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword: "Who's up there? Come out!" Before he finished speaking, a dark figure leaped down from the tree. It was a girl, her dark green shorts tucked into her boots, holding a long black whip with a gleaming tip. Her face was smeared with mud, her bangs were damp with sweat, and her eyes were bright, filled with wariness and arrogance.

She glanced around before her gaze finally settled on Zhou Yan: "Someone from the Cangxia Sect?"

Zhou Yan frowned: "Who are you?"

"I discovered this place first, I killed the Crimson Flame Wolf, and the belongings of the rogue cultivator are mine. Go back to where you came from."

Everyone was stunned. This girl didn't look very big, but she had quite the nerve. Wei Ping'an noticed that there was a dark bloodstain on the cuff of her left sleeve, and her knuckles were white where she was holding the whip in her right hand. Her body was slightly leaning to one side, as if she was injured but trying to hold on. Half of a medicine basket, filled with many herbs, was vaguely visible in the grass behind her.

Zhou Yan's face darkened: "Luoxia Valley is the territory of Cangxia Sect. Entering our territory to collect herbs without permission is already a violation of the rules, and you still dare to spout nonsense here?"

"Violation of the rules?" The girl scoffed, flicking her wrist and lashing her long whip across the ground. "If you're so capable, then grab me and take me back. Let's see if you bunch of menial disciples have the ability." The atmosphere suddenly became tense. Xu Baocai took a step forward and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. The girl raised her whip.

Just then, a deafening roar echoed from the depths of the valley, "Awooo!" The sound was so loud that rocks and debris rained down from the cliffs on both sides, and everyone's expression instantly changed. As soon as the roar subsided, dense footsteps came from the surrounding bushes, growing closer and closer, and pairs of crimson eyes emerged from the bushes, looking particularly eerie in the dim light.

It wasn't just one or two, but more than a dozen Crimson Flame Wolves, a dark mass silently surrounding the entire clearing. The leader was exceptionally large, with a deep, dark red coat, as if dried blood had soaked through its fur. Its fangs were exposed, drool dripped from the corners of its mouth, and its eyes were fierce. It was the alpha wolf, a third-tier Crimson Flame Wolf.

Everyone held their breath, not daring to even breathe loudly, their hair standing on end. Wei Ping'an's heart pounded, his palms sweating, and he moved the pot on his back closer to him. Unbeknownst to him, the ancient medicinal patterns on the rim of the black pot on his back suddenly heated up slightly, a dim light flashing and disappearing.

The girl in green standing opposite him suddenly tightened her grip on the whip as her gaze swept over his back, and her expression changed abruptly.