"I let Yu Zhengliang and his three men go this time. Tell me, how do you think your Primordial Alliance will react?" Wei Zhao asked suddenly.

"Uh..." Fei Yangsheng choked for a moment. For once, he actually felt a flicker of the shame a traitor ought to feel, though he tossed it aside the very next instant and said weakly, "They'll probably be pretty nervous."

Nervous they would certainly be. First Sun Baimei and Yin Zhiping of the Evil-Warding Sect had been killed, then Xue Jianfeng, the senior disciple leading the Snow Sword Sect's delegation, had his dantian destroyed and been locked up in the Mysterious Investigation Bureau, and now it was the turn of Yu Zhengliang and the other three of the Qiangkun Sect to be mauled. Any one of these was enough to set off an uproar; piled together now, the whole Primordial Alliance was surely gripped by panic.

And the one who had set all of it in motion was Wei Zhao, standing right beside him. Everyone had assumed that tempering oneself in the secular world would be easy and pleasant—but with Wei Zhao stirring the pot like this, the folk of the Primordial Alliance were unlikely to find it pleasant at all.

"And after the nerves? What follow-up moves might there be—sending people for revenge, for instance?" Wei Zhao pressed. This was what concerned him most. If the Primordial Alliance, provoked by this string of shocks, simply lost control and went berserk, launching a bloody purge against the secular world's cultivation factions, that would be real trouble.

"I doubt they'd go so far as to send people for outright revenge. The Primordial Alliance is only a loose coalition of sects, after all. As long as it isn't their own sect in trouble, most of them are probably secretly gloating over another sect's misfortune. I don't think anyone would be so kind as to stick their neck out for another sect. At most, I'd say, they'll send word to the disciples out on training and tell everyone to tread carefully." Fei Yangsheng offered this cautious guess.

The answer smacked a little of judging a gentleman by a petty man's measure, but it was also the most likely scenario. The Primordial Alliance was hardly a solid monolith; between its sects there was always an endless tangle of fresh grudges and old scores. Unless real disaster loomed, they would not readily pull together.

Wei Zhao relaxed slightly. Then he asked, "Do you have a way to contact the disciples out on training? And do you know how to get in touch with Leng Leng?"

Leng Leng's whereabouts were another matter of paramount importance to Wei Zhao. She had a phone on her, true, but every attempt to call had ended with the same result—her phone was switched off. Wei Zhao guessed the battery had probably died. And she might well be hiding away in some remote mountain forest to cultivate, with no way to charge it; otherwise, given her earlier enthusiasm for the phone, she would hardly have left it be.

"Uh, I wouldn't call it a contact method, exactly. Each sect has its own special marks. When disciples go out to train, they leave special marks to communicate with the others. The Snow Sword Sect does the same," Fei Yangsheng answered.

Wei Zhao was speechless at the sound of it. The method was far too ancient—straight out of the primitive ways of the old martial world. In modern times it was like casting a net into the open sea; finding Leng Leng that way was utterly unrealistic. Unless she happened to be right nearby—a possibility even lower than winning the lottery.

"Then how am I supposed to find Leng Leng?" Wei Zhao asked.

Fei Yangsheng gave him a helpless look. I'm not close to Leng Leng either—if you don't know how to find her, how would I? But he dared not say so to Wei Zhao's face. After a moment's thought, he could only say, "In a year, the Primordial Channel will close. At that time all the disciples should gather at the formation entrance in the Shennongjia. You should be able to find Leng Leng there."

"Good." Wei Zhao nodded. Leng Leng had actually told him about this before; now Fei Yangsheng had confirmed it. Since he knew there was a way to be certain of finding her, he was in less of a hurry. For now, he would head back to Donghai City first.

Back at the villa in the Xueshang residential compound, of Wu Chengtian and the others, only Qiu Lingshan was absent, on duty at the Mysterious Investigation Bureau; everyone else had stayed. They were all crowded at the doorway, craning their necks in anticipation, and at the sight of Wei Zhao they surged around him with a whoosh.

"Boss, how are things at Snow Valley?" Wu Chengtian asked eagerly, beating the others to it.

"All sorted. It was the Qiangkun Sect of the Primordial Alliance kicking up a fuss this time. I gave them a beating and sent them packing." Wei Zhao smiled.

"Haha, the boss is mighty as ever!" Everyone cheered, and at once they clustered around Wei Zhao and headed inside.

But Wei Zhao suddenly stopped in his tracks and said to Fei Yangsheng, who was trailing sheepishly behind the group, "You stand guard at the gate. And don't get any crooked ideas about running—I told you long ago I marked you with my divine sense. If you dare step one half-step outside that gate, I'll beat you to death on the spot."

"Yes, yes, rest assured, Senior, I absolutely won't run—not even if you beat me to death," Fei Yangsheng swore to heaven at once, then nimbly scurried to the front gate and took up his post as guard.

Ying Ziyu burst out laughing at the sight and said to Wu Chengtian, "Grandpa Wu, you've got a new guard to take your place—you can go off duty now."

"Haha, I couldn't ask for anything better! Now I can go prepare dinner for everyone with an easy mind—just you all wait for a proper feast!" Wu Chengtian chuckled, then ducked into the kitchen and got busy. In truth, he had already been preparing this feast; before long the dishes were on the table, and the whole crowd sat around it, laughing and chatting. Apart from Gu Mengyao and the others who lay unconscious, the scene was nothing short of perfect.

Before dinner, Wei Zhao made a point of calling Lin Dongfang to report in. The old man, having earlier received word from Wu Chengtian and the rest, had already been preparing to come out of retirement once again; but on learning that Wei Zhao had returned in person, he promptly washed his hands of the whole affair, saying that if Wei Zhao couldn't even handle such a trifling bit of crap, had he spent his three years on Cloud Terrace Island eating shit?

Wei Zhao nearly choked to death on that. He knew Old Man Wei believed in his abilities, but he was more inclined to believe another reason entirely: the old man was having far too much fun in his little world with Aunt Qing. He was probably busy day and night with those adult matters unfit for the ears of the young—and even if he hadn't worn himself to death, his legs must surely be too weak to walk by now.

"Give my regards to Aunt Qing, and while you're at it, tell her to go easy—don't squeeze those old bones of yours dry!" Wei Zhao shouted into the phone.

"Get lost!" Old Man Wei's voice was as full of vigor as ever.

Wei Zhao laughed and hung up. By now everyone was waiting for him to take his seat, and the moment they saw him finish the call they crowded in, unable to hold back any longer: "Boss, how on earth did you get back this time? And why are you the only one?"

"Because the way I came back this time is rather special. It wasn't my true body transmitted back directly—I used a method of projecting my primordial spirit. It's rather taxing and has plenty of drawbacks, but being able to come back and see everyone is worth more than anything," Wei Zhao said with a smile. (To be continued.)