Chapter 776: Changing to a New Group Leader, What About the Old One? (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 776: A New Group Leader—What Happens to the Old One? (Requesting Moon Tickets)

“Suspicious dealings? That’s perfectly normal,” Zhan Xian said with a chuckle. “The Yufa Pavilion oversees the approval of all cultivation techniques for the Wanfa Sect—just imagine the scale of interests involved.”

He continued, “Which techniques get rejected, which ones are fast-tracked, which pile up in limbo… every decision here is layered with hidden rules and tangled profits.”

Zhang Yu sighed. “It seems even within our sect, gray-market transactions are far from rare.”

Zhan Xian snorted coldly. “How could cultivators in the sect possibly abide by laws like mortals in the lower realms? Kunxu is precisely like this—the lower you are, the more obedient you are to rules; the higher you climb, the less bound you become by heavenly decrees.”

“Laws,” he added with bitter irony, “exist only to uphold orthodoxy and constrain others—not oneself.”

“If you start talking about legality inside the sect,” Zhan Xian sneered, “I’d laugh myself hoarse. Here, there’s only struggle over orthodoxy and contention over profit—never any real distinction between lawful or unlawful, righteous or demonic.”

His voice softened into a sigh. “There is no demonic path, no righteous path—only a throng of utterly selfish, insatiably greedy people.”

Zhang Yu shook his head and turned back to the review report before him.

Watching their melancholy expressions, Fu Ji thought bitterly to herself, “Damn it! These two resonate far too easily!”

“In the past, lines like these were always mine—I was the one guiding Zhang Yu! Now Zhan Xian keeps stealing my role, lecturing Zhang Yu before I even get a chance.”

“How can I let him keep seizing the initiative like this?”

Fu Ji scrambled to think of something profound, philosophical, and perfectly aligned with Zhang Yu’s current train of thought.

But the harder she tried, the emptier her mind grew.

Because, truthfully, everything they’d said about the sect felt utterly ordinary to her. What was there to lament?

“Hmph! Zhan Xian is practically half of Zhang Yu himself. When he guides Zhang Yu, he’s just guiding his own reflection. Even someone as skilled at conversation as me stands little chance against him.”

After long hesitation, Fu Ji finally muttered, “That’s true.”

Ignoring her agreement, Zhang Yu kept flipping through the report—specifically, the one authored by Xiao Zhi, leader of Martial Cultivation Group One.

He’d chosen Xiao Zhi precisely because, since joining the Deliberation Panel, Xiao had stirred up considerable commotion and shown unmistakable hostility—drawing Zhang Yu’s immediate attention.

And upon closer inspection, Zhang Yu spotted irregularities.

“Some of the techniques Xiao Zhi rejected lack sufficient justification—in fact, some rejections seem outright hasty,” Zhang Yu murmured.

He mentally simulated running a few of the disputed techniques and sensed even deeper inconsistencies.

“If I’d been judging at the time, I’d have approved these without hesitation. They shouldn’t have been rejected.”

Flipping to other reports, he added, “Moreover… similar techniques were later approved.”

Fu Ji’s eyes lit up. “Zhang Yu, are you suggesting Xiao Zhi deliberately rejected certain techniques so he could sell their celestial secrets to others?”

“It’s possible,” Zhang Yu replied.

“With my ability, I could gather, test, and compile these techniques into evidence proving his rejections were entirely unreasonable.”

Fu Ji nodded vigorously. She knew this wasn’t just due to Zhang Yu’s exceptional professional skill—it was also because his recent solo triumph in evaluating the *Refining Spirit Scripture* had demonstrated unmatched judgment in technique reviews to everyone.

“You now,” Fu Ji said, “if you submit solid evidence, no one in the Review Department would dare ignore it.”

“If you coordinate with those whose techniques were wrongly rejected and file a joint complaint,” she added excitedly, “you might just topple Xiao Zhi from his leadership post.”

“And if Xiao Zhi really falls,” she pressed on, “Lu Hengzhang, who oversees martial cultivation, would bear direct responsibility—he’d lose his shot at becoming department head, wouldn’t he? Will you report him?”

Zhan Xian cautioned, “We shouldn’t file the complaint ourselves. The backlash would be too severe. Just hand the compiled evidence to someone else—others will act on it naturally.”

“But the question is…” Zhang Yu frowned, “who do we give it to?”

Fu Ji suggested, “Luo Wujī? If it’s him, he could probably use it against Lu Hengzhang.”

“Or maybe give it directly to Lu Hengzhang? If he’s aiming for department head, he’d dread any scandal erupting now.”

“What about Gu Qingya? He’s also a deputy head—is he in line for promotion?”

Fu Ji rattled off every superior Zhang Yu currently knew, weighing pros and cons but unable to decide among the three.

“Zhan Xian,” Zhang Yu asked, “what do you think?”

“Ask others,” Zhan Xian replied. “Xing Huo and Zhang Pianpian—they should offer useful advice.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes flickered. “My sister… and Master Xing Huo?”

“Xing Huo has navigated the sect’s lower ranks for years,” Zhan Xian explained. “He understands the convoluted politics better than I do.”

“As for Zhang Pianpian, she can help you gather intelligence from the perspective of the Divine Path.”

“We simply don’t know enough about these three yet. Without sufficient information, making a choice now would be pure guesswork.”

Zhang Yu inwardly agreed—after all, wasn’t Zhan Xian the inheritor of his own memories? Of course his words carried weight.

“Even if he hadn’t said it,” Zhang Yu mused, “I’d likely have reached the same conclusion.”

He sent messages to both, briefly outlining his dilemma.

Soon, Xing Huo Zhenjun contacted him.

But staring at the projection materializing before him, Zhang Yu could only think: *Who the hell are you, handsome?*

The Xing Huo Zhenjun he’d met in the lower realm had resembled a dying tree—radiating decay, weighed down by gloom.

Yet this new Xing Huo appeared as a vigorous man in his twenties, brimming with vitality, eyes sharp and spirited—a figure radiating confidence and vigor.

Everything about him declared: before you stands not a 350-year-old Golden Core elder, but a freshly ascended 350-year-old Nascent Soul cultivator.

Meanwhile, Xing Huo seemed to be addressing someone beyond the projection: “Which position in this mission carries the greatest risk? Fine—I’ll take that one.”

“Don’t send anyone to protect me. Danger is exactly what I enjoy.”

Only then did he turn to Zhang Yu with a smile. “It’s been barely two months—yet you’ve already gotten yourself tangled in so much?”

“Master Xing Huo,” Zhang Yu asked, “how should I choose?”

Xing Huo spoke fluently: “In the sect, choosing sides begins with sorting information—especially grasping the prevailing winds.”

“And the key to information lies in orthodoxy.”

“A cultivator’s allegiance to a particular orthodoxy inevitably shapes their conduct—more so the stronger they become.”

“You must first discern which orthodoxies your superiors represent. Identify which might clash with yours, and which could benefit—or at least not harm—you.”

After this lesson on orthodoxy, Xing Huo turned to specifics: “Tell me about Luo Wujī, your Review Department head. In theory, he should be your first choice…”

Upon hearing Zhang Yu’s account, Xing Huo sighed. “With the *Refining Spirit Scripture* incident, you dealt him a heavy blow.”

“In the sect, face matters,” he chuckled. “Face is an extension of authority. By humiliating him, you diminished his authority—you inflicted real loss. If he remains head, he’ll surely seek recompense from you.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes narrowed. “So his losing the position might actually be for the best?”

Xing Huo nodded. “And the evidence you hold won’t help him retain power anyway. Luo Wujī isn’t a good option.”

He then inquired about Lu Hengzhang and Gu Qingya—but unfortunately, Zhang Yu knew little about either.

Xing Huo sighed again. “Their actions likely stem from the orthodoxies backing them. If only we knew where their loyalties lie…”

Zhang Yu understood: once a cultivator reached Refining Void stage and established their own laws, one could infer their orthodoxy from those laws. But for Lu Hengzhang and Gu Qingya—both merely at Nascent Soul stage—such deduction wasn’t possible.

Just then, a message from Zhang Pianpian appeared before Zhang Yu’s eyes:

*Meet me at the usual place.*

And so, after a brief while, Zhang Yu once more stepped into the Taiqing Realm.

Gazing upon Zhang Pianpian—whom he hadn’t seen in far too long—Zhang Yu beamed with joy and cried, “Sister!”

He hadn’t entirely lost touch with her during this time; it was simply that she always seemed preoccupied with something urgent, replying to his messages only in fits and starts.

Now, looking at him, Zhang Pianpian said, “Within the Dharma Realm, surveillance over orthodox deities, divine power, and talismans is exceedingly strict. It’s not convenient for me to maintain close contact with you.”

“But fortunately, we have the Taiqing Realm—a place secret enough for us to speak freely.”

She then turned to the current situation in Zhang Yu’s world. “The Ten Thousand Dharmas Sect reveres the Dharma Realm above all else. The vast majority of its data and records are stored there.”

“My access through the Spirit Realm yields only limited information. You may use it as a reference, but don’t rely on it too heavily.”

After this warning, Zhang Pianpian continued, “Gu Qingya hasn’t yet reached the Refining Emptiness stage. It’s hard to say with absolute certainty which Daoist lineage he truly aligns with.”

“After all, within sects, deception runs rampant. There’s no shortage of cultivators who’ve turned on their allies at the final moment. Even after a dharma statute is enacted, there remains a chance to switch lineages and gain support.”

“There was once a statute concerning prohibited medicines that shifted from its original lineage into the Medicine-Dharma lineage, greatly accelerating the latter’s development.”

“Judging by Gu Qingya’s dual cultivation partners—all of whom belong overwhelmingly to the Adjudication-Dharma lineage—he likely follows the same path as Luo Wuji.”

Having finished speaking of Gu Qingya, Zhang Pianpian turned next to Lu Hengzhang.

“Lu Hengzhang is, among the conservatives of the Ten Thousand Dharmas Sect, the most conservative of them all. He supports the Primordial-Dharma lineage.”

Curious, Zhang Yu asked, “Primordial-Dharma? What exactly does that seek to control?”

Zhang Pianpian explained, “‘Primordial’ suppresses ‘acquired.’ The Primordial-Dharma lineage aims to sever the path of lower cultivators entirely. Its ultimate goal is eternal confirmation—one proof for all eternity—so that immortals remain immortals forever, even if they die, go bankrupt, or reincarnate… they will still be immortals.”

“It also ensures sect members remain sect members, lifetime after lifetime.”

“And most crucially, it seeks to seal off any possibility of advancement for lower cultivators—cutting off both entry into the sect from the lower realms and promotion within its ranks.”

Hearing this, Zhang Yu’s brow furrowed slightly. “Then it’s clear: Lu Hengzhang and I are destined to be enemies.”

At that thought, Zhang Yu understood—if Lu Hengzhang became Minister of Auditing, he would surely target him relentlessly in the future.

After concluding his conversations with Starfire True Lord and Zhang Pianpian, Zhang Yu silently reflected, “It seems, then, that Gu Qingya is the only suitable candidate.”

...

Several days later, inside Gu Qingya’s office.

Glancing at the audit materials Zhang Yu had delivered, Gu Qingya initially regarded them with mild indifference.

What did Zhang Yu expect him to do with these documents? He wasn’t even Zhang Yu’s direct superior.

Could it be that Zhang Yu, influenced by his earlier advice, had finally come to pay respects and pledge allegiance?

At that notion, Gu Qingya gave a slight nod inwardly. *That’s more like it.*

“We lower-realm cultivators must learn to accept reality. When life slaps us, we should ask ourselves if it stings less than last time. When faced with someone stronger, we’d best avoid giving them reason to strike.”

But as he read deeper, his expression gradually grew grave.

Lifting his eyes, Gu Qingya fixed his gaze on Zhang Yu before him and asked, “Did you conduct this audit yourself?”

Ever since the incident with the *Refining Spirit Scripture*, Gu Qingya had come to deeply trust Zhang Yu’s judgment. Seeing Zhang Yu nod firmly, he knew the documents in his hands were almost certainly accurate.

Inwardly, Gu Qingya sighed, *Some matters weigh nothing until placed on the scale—but once weighed, they can tip thousands of jin.*

“What’s happened with Xiao Zhi might not amount to much under ordinary circumstances.”

“But now… it’s the perfect opportunity to ally with Luo Wuji and counter Lu Hengzhang.”

“If we leverage Xiao Zhi’s case to first rein in Lu Hengzhang, and once Luo Wuji is removed… perhaps I’ll have a shot at becoming Minister of Auditing myself.”

With that thought, Gu Qingya quietly marked Zhang Yu as a specially followed contact.

In his eyes, Zhang Yu was no longer merely a vessel of supreme aptitude—but one worthy of bearing leadership, deserving of personal guidance from a superior.

*If he truly helps me succeed… I wouldn’t mind engaging in dual cultivation with him, helping broaden his immortal path.*

To Gu Qingya, a leader offering dual cultivation was the highest mark of inclusion—a reward and a sign of profound trust.

After a moment’s consideration, he asked, “Is there more?”

Zhang Yu nodded. “Yes—at least ten more cultivation manuals under Xiao Zhi’s review show problematic approvals.”

Gu Qingya raised an eyebrow. “All audited by you in the past couple of days?”

When Zhang Yu confirmed it, Gu Qingya smiled faintly. “And what do you want in return?”

“I want to become team leader once Xiao Zhi is gone.”

Gu Qingya frowned. “Too hasty. Remember: haste makes waste. The more urgently you demand something, the higher its price becomes.”

“You’ve only just been promoted to Rank Two—why rush? If you’re willing to bide your time a few more years, this merit could buy you far greater rewards.”

Seeing Zhang Yu remain insistent, Gu Qingya shook his head inwardly, thinking him still too impetuous—and lowered his estimation of the young man slightly.

*Very well,* he mused, *I’ll lend you this one hand—but don’t expect dual cultivation as a reward. You’ve no idea what opportunity you’ve just missed.*

Aloud, he said, “Fine. I’ll arrange for someone to nominate you as a candidate for acting team leader of Martial Arts Team One. But whether you succeed depends on other nominators and the final suitability assessment.”

...

Several days later, Xiao Zhi, former team leader of Team One, stared blankly at the notice before him.

His audits were flawed?

Of course he knew they were flawed! In truth, in his view, had there ever been a single year when the copyright reviews in the Yufa Pavilion were entirely without issue?

Flaws weren’t the problem—it was being caught that spelled disaster.

“Gu Qingya!”

Muttering the name, Xiao Zhi knew it was Gu Qingya who’d dragged Luo Wuji into exposing this matter during the meeting.

“That scheming bastard! To stoop so low in internal strife, targeting a humble, obedient junior sect administrator like me!”

Panicked, Xiao Zhi immediately sought out Deputy Minister Lu Hengzhang.

“Divine Lord!” he began—but before he could finish, Lu Hengzhang unleashed a beam of divine light that sealed his voice.

Coldly, Lu Hengzhang commanded, “Go first to those whose works were reviewed. Explain it to them face-to-face and calm them down.”

Xiao Zhi’s face twisted. “What if I can’t explain it away?”

“Apologize. Pacify. Offer compensation—use whatever means necessary to minimize the fallout.”

Desperate, Xiao Zhi pleaded, “But what about the investigation team? Divine Lord, you must help me!”

Lu Hengzhang snorted. “Help you? I’m only deputy minister, not Pavilion Master! And even the Pavilion Master couldn’t simply overlook so many flawed audits exposed all at once.”

Frantic, Xiao Zhi pressed, “I was rushing to approve those manuals you’d ordered—I cut corners on the reports, yes, but they weren’t so easily detectable! Could they have planned this in advance? Were they setting a trap for you all along?”

“Planned in advance?” Lu Hengzhang scoffed. “These audits were done by Zhang Yu—likely just within the past few days. It didn’t take long.”

Xiao Zhi’s eyes narrowed. “Zhang Yu? That brat’s targeting me?”

Watching his agitation, Lu Hengzhang said flatly, “So what if you know? Now do as I said. In a couple of days, the investigators will arrive. Confess you were careless—that you rushed to boost performance and made erroneous judgments. Take full responsibility…”

Xiao Zhi’s face paled. “Once I admit everything… my position as team leader…”

“Team your mother’s head!”

Before Xiao Zhi could finish, Lu Hengzhang blasted him out of the office with another surge of divine light, leaving him sprawled in despair.

A few days later, news spread across all teams: Xiao Zhi, former leader of Team One, had been demoted and reassigned out of the Auditing Department.

No one cared what became of this loser. At this very moment, every member of the team fixed their hungry eyes on the vacancy left by Xiao Zhi.

After a meeting, the list of four candidates emerged—and Zhang Yu’s name stood out prominently among them, instantly sparking astonishment among many.

…

Following the instructions given, Zhang Yu arrived at the site for the position suitability assessment.

He thought inwardly, “Among the four candidates, only the one who scores highest in the suitability assessment will become the acting leader of Martial Dao Team One.”

“Once appointed acting leader, if all goes well, I’ll officially become the team leader in a year and be promoted to Rank 3.”

At this thought, Zhang Yu felt a quiet surge of excitement. Step by step, he was drawing ever closer to his ultimate goal: attaining Rank 4 and mastering the Nascent Soul Certification.

Just then, Zhang Yu spotted Shen Qingyun not far away, along with two other candidates.

As for Shen Qingyun, Zhang Yu had some understanding of her—she was the notorious overachiever of Martial Dao Team One. Though formidable, she likely wouldn’t pose a serious threat to him in this suitability assessment.

While pondering, Zhang Yu turned his attention to the other two candidates.

One of them was named Chen Xingxuan, a seasoned Grade-2 Sect Affairs Officer from the Mind Method Division.

The Mind Method Division specialized in reviewing martial cultivation techniques centered on mind methods—esoteric practices tied intimately to one’s thoughts and Dao-heart. These methods were elusive, nebulous, and notoriously difficult to comprehend, cultivate, measure, or evaluate, making them the most challenging category among all martial cultivation techniques.

Consequently, only those who had demonstrated exceptional performance in other martial divisions and mastered the Wu Xiang Evolutionary Martial Arts system up to at least “Wu Fifteen” were even eligible for selection into this division.

Although Wu Xiang Evolutionary Martial Arts originally comprised only ten distinct martial disciplines, it had been continuously expanded over time—adding new supplementary techniques from “Wu Eleven,” “Wu Twelve,” and onward—to steadily enhance practitioners’ ability to simulate and master diverse martial arts.

Thus, the Mind Method Division had long been regarded as the most demanding in terms of review difficulty, boasting the strongest average operational competence and highest performance metrics among all martial-related divisions.

Accordingly, cultivators within the Mind Method Division also enjoyed greater opportunities for promotion.

Chen Xingxuan had spent years accumulating seniority in Martial Dao Team One. When it became clear that promotion to team leader there was hopeless, he transferred to the Mind Method Division.

In his very first year after the transfer, he muted all notifications from his former colleagues in Martial Dao Team One.

He knew they no longer walked the same path as him—and would offer no further aid on his journey toward higher cultivation.

Chen Xingxuan’s eyes held only one ambition: ascension.

Now, as his gaze swept over Zhang Yu and Shen Qingyun, he immediately summoned his personal artifact spirit for an assessment.

“Tianwen Star, are these two my rivals?”

Your dedicated artifact spirit, Tianwen Star, is analyzing.

A moment later, the spirit’s verdict appeared before Chen Xingxuan’s eyes: “Based on current data, Shen Qingyun is merely an inconsequential figure from Martial Dao Team One—utterly beneath your notice.”

“As for Zhang Yu—he is indeed a capable newcomer with commendable achievements. Yet capability and performance are merely baseline requirements for leadership selection. In every other aspect, he falls far short of you.”

Tianwen Star unfurled rows of data before Chen Xingxuan: “You have already cultivated the Wu Xiang Evolutionary Martial Arts combination techniques up to ‘Wu Twenty.’ In terms of operational prowess, you have long surpassed all others across the martial divisions.”

“But that is merely your least impressive strength.”

“In assets, your accumulated wealth as a long-serving Sect Affairs Officer exceeds the combined total of both theirs by a wide margin.”

“In available credit, your impeccable repayment history over many years places you far beyond their reach.”

“Moreover, you hold elite membership status across nine major platforms—including Tongfa Workshop, Tonghui Workshop, Chuanfa Pavilion, and others—spanning lending services, memory archives, and martial technique repositories. This drastically reduces your operational and cultivation costs compared to theirs.”

“And above all, you have me as your advisor, assisting you throughout this assessment.”

“Allow me to present this irrefutable victory analysis: Shen Qingyun and Zhang Yu are utterly insignificant before you.”

Requesting Moon Tickets

(End of Chapter)