Hearing Mo Fan pose this question—
Qing Feng's hand, holding the teacup, paused slightly. He didn't answer at once, but instead gave Mo Fan a long, deep look.
Then his gaze turned toward A-Song, who was absorbed in cultivation beneath the tree, and a flicker of extremely complicated hesitation crossed his eyes.
A moment later—
Swish.
Qing Feng swept his broad sleeve.
A transparent barrier, nearly impossible to detect with the naked eye, unfurled soundlessly in an instant, completely sealing off the area where A-Song sat—cutting off all sight, sound, and perception from the outside world, so that he could go on cultivating undisturbed.
Having done all this, Qing Feng's gaze returned to Mo Fan.
By now, that warm, jade-like smile on his face had gradually faded, replaced by the deep, unhurried composure of one in a superior position—a man who held the entire situation in his grasp.
"To be able to ask such a sharp question—you're no mere mediocrity after all."
Qing Feng lifted his teacup and took a shallow sip, his tone turning exceedingly flat.
"In that case, I won't hide things from you or beat around the bush."
"A-Song is indeed a prodigy the likes of which this Sect hasn't seen in nearly a century."
"Not only does he possess a High-Grade Wood Spirit Root—even rarer, that sliver of origin aura within his body is a perfect match for the core technique I cultivate. And his temperament, moreover, is pure as an uncarved piece of raw jade."
"That is the fundamental reason I broke precedent to take him as a personal disciple."
Mo Fan nodded silently. This was something he understood deeply—that kid A-Song truly was a rare touch of purity in this murky cultivation world.
"As you're aware."
Qing Feng set down his teacup, his gaze fixed calmly on Mo Fan, as though stating some trivial little matter.
"After I decided to take A-Song as my disciple, I dispatched Elder Liu Yun to investigate his background, and later, at the Outer Sect Grand Competition, I even secretly tested you."
Hearing this, Mo Fan—though he'd already guessed eighty or ninety percent of it deep down—still nodded along cooperatively.
"The results were, naturally, clean. And I approve of all you've given for A-Song, and the shelter you've provided him, all these years."
But at this point, Qing Feng's tone took an abrupt turn.
The previously peaceful atmosphere, in that instant, suddenly grew rather oppressive and chilling.
"However!"
Qing Feng's eyes narrowed slightly.
"These days, the entire Sect, from top to bottom, has grown somewhat restless on account of A-Song's sudden appearance."
"A High-Grade Wood Spirit Root is indeed rare, but across the whole of our Azure Cloud Sect, it's not as though there are none."
"Take Luo Yu, for instance—he likewise possesses a rare High-Grade Sword Spirit Root, a hard-won genius in his own right. And yet Luo Yu was never taken by me as a personal disciple."
"And so, among many of the Sect's disciples—and even certain elders—there's been no small amount of grumbling over my taking A-Song as a personal disciple. Some have even harbored resentment and dissent."
Qing Feng gave a cold laugh, a trace of ease woven into his tone.
"I can understand their misgivings, born of damaged interests and standing. But... recently, I've discovered that behind this dissent, there are people with ulterior motives, deliberately fanning the flames!"
Hearing this, Mo Fan's heart lurched violently. He was faintly beginning to sense that he'd been dragged into some sort of political struggle.
"A while back."
Qing Feng looked at Mo Fan and said blandly:
"There was an Inner Sect disciple named Huang Yun who went all the way to Hundred Forging Peak specifically to make trouble for you. Am I right?"
Mo Fan answered with a solemn expression:
"In reply to the Sect Master, there was indeed such an incident."
"However, that Huang Yun was throwing his weight around to bully others, and in the end, this disciple managed to deal with him."
"Heh heh..."
Qing Feng, however, gave a noncommittal soft laugh.
"That Huang Yun may be an idle good-for-nothing wastrel, but he does have some foundation in his skills."
"For a mortal like you to get the better of him—that's no simple feat, truly."
"But..."
Qing Feng's eyes turned razor-sharp in an instant, like two blades drawn from their sheaths!
"Huang Yun is nothing more than a fool being driven at another's command! He isn't the key. The hand pushing from behind him... that is the root of this whole affair!"
"Oh?"
Mo Fan's heart tightened. He lifted his head, a little puzzled. "Sect Master, do you mean...?"
"The Vice Sect Master's faction."
Qing Feng named the name without the slightest evasion, a trace of coldness in his tone.
"That fellow Ming Xuan is forever at odds with me over the Sect's guiding principles. Among the Sect's upper echelons, this has long been no secret."
"A-Song being taken as a personal disciple is hardly some great matter capable of shaking the Sect's foundations."
"But under deliberate flame-fanning, this affair has instead been blown out of proportion into an uproar."
Qing Feng rose to his feet and slowly paced before the cramped tea table. Each step that fell carried an invisible pressure.
"Even the matter of your entering the Inner Sect through the Outer Sect tournament has been seized on by them as a pretext to make a fuss."
"In all those rumors and gossip, they make it sound as if I'm abusing public office for private gain—deliberately shielding you two brothers!"
As Qing Feng's emotions stirred, a sliver of pressure—exceedingly faint, yet terrifying to the absolute extreme—inadvertently leaked out from his body.
Just that fleeting bit of aura, leaked for an instant—
Mo Fan, seated in his chair, suddenly felt as though the entire space had frozen solid. His chest felt as if a boulder weighing tens of thousands of pounds had been pressed down onto it.
Even breathing became extremely difficult, and a layer of cold sweat instantly seeped from his forehead.
Fortunately, Qing Feng quickly reined in his aura.
"That Huang Yun who went to provoke you—"
Qing Feng turned his head, looking at Mo Fan with a terrifyingly profound gaze.
"Their original goal was to use Huang Yun to gravely wound you—or even end your life!"
"Once you were dead, given A-Song's emotional attachment to you, that child would surely fly into an uncontrollable berserk rage—perhaps even commit some extreme act violating Sect rules to seek revenge!"
"And the moment A-Song broke the Sect rules, the Vice Sect Master's faction could then, with perfect legitimacy, seize on the incident to expel A-Song from the Sect, and even use it to strike a blow against my prestige!"
Hearing this, Mo Fan truly felt a chill run down his spine.
At the time, he'd only assumed Huang Yun had come seeking personal revenge—he'd never imagined such a massive conspiracy lay behind it.
"Furthermore."
Qing Feng stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze drifting toward the roiling cloud sea beyond the hall.
"The Sect Grand Competition for the entire Cangqing Province is preparing to be held within ten years."
"And there's the subsequent, far grander 'Great Xia Dynasty—Summit Genius Battle'—the rosters of participants must be drawn up for that as well. All of this bears on the future providence and resource distribution of every major sect."
"At a crucial juncture like this, those eyeing my position... they're all eagerly praying for me to slip up, so they can drag me down from my horse!"
At this point, Qing Feng came to a halt.
He turned around, looked at Mo Fan sitting cramped and uneasy in his chair, and the corner of his mouth suddenly curled into a cold sneer.
"However..."
"To beat a dog, you must first consider its master."
Hearing this metaphor, Mo Fan couldn't help but touch his nose awkwardly.
Although the comparison was rather inappropriate, he really had neither the qualifications nor the courage to retort. He could only listen in silence.
"That being said, your handling of things—at the Outer Sect tournament, and in facing Huang Yun—left me most satisfied."
Qing Feng sat back down on his seat, lifted his teacup, a thread of absolute dominance seeping into his tone.
"Moreover, it is obvious that Ming Xuan and his lot still overestimated my temper—and underestimated my resolve to shield my own!"
"Heh heh..."
"Since they've already pushed things to such an extent—even daring to move against my people—then why shouldn't I simply be overly protective, just this once? What of it?!"
For a moment—
That imposing aura belonging to the Sect Master of Azure Cloud Sect—even without a shred of cultivation leaking out—allowed Mo Fan to genuinely perceive that inviolable majesty.
"Xiaoqi."
Qing Feng's gaze narrowed slightly, locking onto Mo Fan with the utmost gravity.
"One year from now."
"The Sect will open a most crucial [ Mystic Realm Trial ]. At that time, not only Inner Sect disciples, but even the personal disciples of every peak will enter it to contest for opportunities."
"It is my expectation—"
Qing Feng's tone carried an anticipation and a command that brooked no refusal.
"—that within this one year, you concentrate on cultivating your body-cultivation technique and polish your physical body to the absolute limit! One year from now, you shall enter the mystic realm as A-Song's auxiliary, alongside him!"
"I want you two brothers to take first place in that trial!"
Qing Feng stared dead at Mo Fan, his voice deep and forceful:
"Well?"
"Do you... have the confidence?!"