"Mm. I'll be fine." Leng Leng's trust in Wei Zhao was utterly without reservation. Then again, no matter what, she had to return to the Snow Sword Sect. Everything else she could set aside, but she could not abandon her master—if she were truly branded a traitor to the sect, her master would suffer for it.

"I'll come to Central Island to see you before long, and if anything happens, you can send word to me as well," Wei Zhao instructed.

"Everyone, rest easy. I know how to protect myself." Leng Leng nodded.

"Then—a safe journey." Wei Zhao watched Leng Leng set out together with Fei Yangnian and the other Snow Sword Sect disciples, and shot Bing Wushuang a look. Bing Wushuang understood at once: he knew that if he failed to look after Leng Leng properly, he was finished.

The disciples of the various sects departed one after another. Xin Yi'an kept the Northern Island Cangwu Sect disciples back until the last, and only when every other sect's people had gone did he say to Wei Zhao: "Martial-Uncle Ancestor, we may set out now."

So saying, Xin Yi'an arranged a huge spirit bird for Wei Zhao and his party. An ordinary spirit bird could carry two or three riders at most, but this great bird could seat six or seven with ease—just enough for Wei Zhao and all his people.

"Let's go." Wei Zhao nodded to Xin Yi'an, and only after the other had taken the Northern Island Cangwu Sect disciples aloft did he drive the great spirit bird up to follow behind. And truth to tell, the bird was a little slow, but its flight was exceedingly steady, like a small passenger plane; riding on its back felt quite pleasant, and it was just the thing for touring mountains and waters.

Wei Zhao, however, had no such leisure. He had to memorize the location of this ancient transmission formation, lest he be unable to find the place on his next visit.

That ought not to have been difficult for him, but the shroud of cloud and mist made it so that even though visibility below was somewhat better, it was not much better. Without accurately committing the route to memory, one could easily lose the way.

After a little under half a shichen, the spirit bird flew clear of the cloud-and-mist expanse, and below stretched a boundless sea. Then, after flying north for roughly another three shichen, a lush green landmass appeared before them all.

This was the Northern Island of the Ancient Little Jianghu. Compared with Cloud-Tier Island it was much smaller, yet it still measured close to a hundred li across—quite large indeed as islands went.

Apart from a vast, dense forest in the north, the other three corners of the island each held a great mountain, and at the summit and mid-slope of each mountain stood a towering complex of buildings. No need to guess: these three mountains must surely be the respective domains of the Northern Island's three great sects.

The spirit bird soon came down on the mid-slope of the eastern mountain. Wei Zhao and the others sprang down from its back one after another, and before them stood a great hall, at whose center hung a giant plaque bearing three large golden characters on a black ground: Cangwu Sect.

By this time a great crowd had already gathered before the hall, every one of them craning their necks in anticipation. Catching sight of Wei Zhao and his party, they began bowing from afar—and not with mere courtesy, but with the full grand rite of greeting a Martial-Uncle Ancestor.

A group of Golden Core experts led the way up to meet them, and Xin Yi'an hastened to make the introductions on their behalf. Pointing to one of the mid-Golden-Core experts, he said: "Martial-Uncle Ancestor, this is the Vice Sect Master of our Northern Island Cangwu Sect, by name Chen Dongcheng. Vice Sect Master Chen, this is the Martial-Uncle Ancestor Wei Zhao whom I reported on earlier."

"Martial-Uncle Ancestor! We have waited so long, and at last we have you here. This is an honor for the whole of our Northern Island Cangwu Sect," Chen Dongcheng said, his face wreathed in smiles.

Wei Zhao regarded him with a touch of surprise. The man looked like a refined gentleman, and carried himself with a certain bearing. Yet there were no few experts of late Golden Core or above standing nearby—how was it that a man of mere mid Golden Core could occupy the seat of Vice Sect Master?

Above all, the expressions of these sect higher-ups were plainly not quite right. Though their faces all wore smiles, Wei Zhao was long past the age of a green boy who could be fooled by any passing show. If he could not even see through this much, he would not have lived to this day.

Among these Golden Core higher-ups of the Northern Island Cangwu Sect who had come over with Chen Dongcheng, some hid complicated thoughts behind their smiles, some harbored resistance, some looked on with disdain. None of that was strange in the least, and wholly understandable—Wei Zhao reckoned that in their place, were a cut-rate Martial-Uncle Ancestor of unknown origin and unclear background to appear out of nowhere, he too would have his reservations, more or less.

But what Wei Zhao noticed was that in the eyes of these people as they looked at him there was actually a measure of pity—and not a small number of them at that. Now that was rather odd.

Pity? What did they have to pity?

"Greetings to you all." Wei Zhao gave Chen Dongcheng and the rest a reserved nod. Since he was the Martial-Uncle Ancestor, he must carry himself as one; otherwise he would only be held cheap for nothing.

"These must be the Martial-Uncle Ancestor's own personal disciples? A fine crop of dragons and phoenixes among men, every one. Our Northern Island Cangwu Sect has suffered a withering of talent these hundred years past, and no sooner does the Martial-Uncle Ancestor arrive than he brings us a great gift—our Northern Island Cangwu Sect has hope of great prosperity!" Chen Dongcheng went on, his smile as honeyed as before.

The fellow certainly had a way with words. Even Wei Zhao had to admit that Chen Dongcheng's skill at flattery was first-rate—and perhaps that was precisely the key to how a man of mere mid Golden Core strength could hold the seat of Vice Sect Master.

"Heh. Vice Sect Master Chen flatters them too much. They are but newcomers here at the Northern Island Cangwu Sect; everything must be learned from the beginning, and they are still far from the day when they can bear the weight of great responsibility," Wei Zhao said mildly.

"No, no, no—with the Martial-Uncle Ancestor's own careful instruction, I expect they will come into their own very quickly," Chen Dongcheng said with a smile.

"My own instruction?" Wei Zhao glanced at him in some surprise, then looked at Xin Yi'an standing beside him. "I had thought all newcomers to the sect were gathered together. Is that not so?"

Since the Northern Island Cangwu Sect here had deep ties with the Northern Island Azure Cloud Pavilion of Cloud-Tier Island, Wei Zhao supposed that many things must be much the same. Cloud-Tier Island had a Welcome Pavilion; by rights there ought to be something similar here.

In fact, so far as Wei Zhao knew, it was not only the Northern Island Tri-Tier Pavilion of Cloud-Tier Island; the vast majority of sects and powers of any size had their own Welcome Pavilion, charged specifically with teaching the most basic entry-level heart methods and essentials. After all, those Golden Core experts had no time to spare for instructing in such things.

"That..." Xin Yi'an was somewhat at a loss as well. He had assumed the same, but it seemed the sect higher-ups had other arrangements—only, being away from the sect, he had no way of knowing. (To be continued.)