Birth of the sect ghost

That story had ignited Cheng Yuan and Peng Zhen's thirst for cultivation. The dream of one day wielding such power became their driving force. If they could achieve that level of strength, they could become overlords of the Eighth Zone of the Green Fog Region. But for Cheng Yuan, the most important part was the chance to avenge Zou Wen and his master against the Black Cosmos Caiman.

Zou Wen had been killed and consumed by the beast, and his master had suffered grievous injuries while protecting Peng Zhen and Cheng Yuan from it. Those injuries had crippled his cultivation, leading to his eventual early death. It was a wound that had never healed, a heavy knot in both Cheng Yuan and Peng Zhen's hearts. Their master had possessed the talent to reach the Palace Stage—especially with his rare Blue Core. But in a single day, they had lost their fellow disciple, and their master had been fatally wounded, though he had managed to inflict a massive injury on the beast in return.

Cheng Yuan clenched his fists in frustration, his emotions bubbling to the surface. Yang Qing noticed the change and briefly glanced at him before returning to his lively conversation with Jiang Fu.

"Oh, Jiang Fu, this is Cheng Yuan, the sect master of a rank 4 sect. Cheng Yuan, this is Jiang Fu, the chef behind that delicious oolong tea we just enjoyed," Yang Qing introduced once he saw that Cheng Yuan had regained his composure.

"Cheng Yuan humbly greets Master Jiang Fu," Cheng Yuan said, offering a solemn bow. "I deeply thank you for the insights your oolong tea has given me."

"No need for formalities," Jiang Fu said in his usual plain tone. "What you gain is ultimately due to your own capabilities. The tea is merely a key. Besides, it's not me you should be thanking—it's my young friend Yang Qing here. Without him offering it, you wouldn't have had the chance to drink it. All the best on your path ahead, Sect Master Cheng Yuan."

Cheng Yuan nodded in understanding, cupping his fists in gratitude to both Jiang Fu and Yang Qing. Yang Qing could only smile and shake his head. Jiang Fu had always been curt and straightforward, never one for unnecessary pleasantries.

"Well, Jiang Fu, let me offer my congratulations in advance for your breakthrough to the Palace Stage. When do you plan to enter closed-door cultivation?" Yang Qing asked, preparing to leave. His one-hour break was almost up, and he needed to hurry back before the old monster Lei Weiyuan came sniffing around his court.

"I'll begin tonight," Jiang Fu replied. "I'm already in a refreshed, peak state after today's brew, and I want to take advantage of that momentum. Thank you again, Yang Qing, for your guidance in helping me improve my Dao. Once I break through, I'll set aside my very first pot of tea for you." His eyes shone with deep gratitude as he cupped his fists.

"Your progress is due to your own constant efforts, Master Jiang Fu," Yang Qing said gently, placing a hand on Jiang Fu's back. "And I wasn't alone in offering insights—Dai Chen and the others contributed just as much."

"Mmm, I'll be heading over to thank them as well," Jiang Fu said with a nod.

"I should get going too. I'm still in session. I'll be waiting for your good news, Jiang Fu," Yang Qing said as he made his way out. Mao Yunru and Yi Jie were already waiting at the entrance, with Yi Jie frowning, his eyes clearly urging Yang Qing to hurry.

Jiang Fu waved goodbye as he made his way over to Kang Huilang's table. Cheng Yuan was surprised to see that Jiang Fu was just as relaxed and friendly with them as he had been with Yang Qing. Even the usually shy Zhang Qingge was laughing and chatting freely with him. Cheng Yuan couldn't help but wonder—was Jiang Fu this open and amiable with everyone?

"He's not like that with everyone," Yang Qing said, as if reading Cheng Yuan's thoughts. "It's just that we've known him since we were young. Despite his rough exterior, he's actually quite friendly once you get to know him. He used to make this sweet blackberry tea and persimmon cake for us when we were little. To this day, it's still Zhang Qingge's favorite—and honestly, it's a favorite for all of us. Of our group, those two are the closest, almost like a father and his daughter. He's one of the few people outside our circle whom Qingge can talk to without getting shy."

As they walked away, Cheng Yuan couldn't help but glance back when he noticed Zhang Qingge laughing blissfully. Her laughter amplified her already striking beauty, making her glow like the morning sun after a long, cold winter night. It was a refreshing sight, one that held his gaze.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Yi Jie said abruptly as they reached the door.

"Huh?" Cheng Yuan asked, confused. He knew the remark was directed at him, especially since Yi Jie was staring at him with a deadpan expression.

"What my overly concise friend is trying to say," Yang Qing chimed in with a grin, "is that you shouldn't stare at Zhang Qingge too much—unless you want to invite disaster upon yourself." Yi Jie snorted at Yang Qing's remark, clearly unimpressed by his attempt to lighten the mood.

Yang Qing's explanation only deepened Cheng Yuan's confusion. Despite the warning, he couldn't help but instinctively glance back at the table again, wondering where exactly the danger lay.

"Is it one of the guys sharing the table with her? It has to be. There's no way they'd be this close to such a beauty and not try their chances. One of them must be seeing her. Maybe that rough-looking guy—Dai Chen, was it? Or the noble-looking one, Xia Boqin? Hmm… I have a feeling it's more likely the latter. Dang it, how lucky are they? I've been single all my life, and none of the elders in my sect are lookers… Mmmh, maybe I should arrange some inter-sect competition events to expand the disciples' horizons, form some connections… and maybe—just maybe—I might find someone to share my woes with. Do I even have enough spirit stones for this?..."

Cheng Yuan's mind drifted as he absentmindedly muttered calculations—figuring out interest payments, grace periods, deductions, bleeding dry, and ultimately… dying alone.

Yang Qing and the rest exchanged glances, wondering just what kind of spiraling thoughts were running through this guy's head.

"Oi, Sect Master! Sect Master! You're about to slam into the door." Yang Qing's warning snapped Cheng Yuan out of his daze just in time.

He barely managed to stop himself, narrowly avoiding an embarrassing collision. With a sheepish smile, he followed the group as they finally stepped out of the restaurant. Just before the door closed, Cheng Yuan sneaked one last glance at Zhang Qingge's table.

"You really don't value your life, Sect Master Cheng Yuan." Mao Yunru sighed, shaking her head. "You're lucky Senior Sister Qingge's attention is on Jiang Fu. Otherwise, you'd be a dead man right now."

"Huh? Her attention?" Cheng Yuan muttered aloud, confused. Things weren't adding up. What did Zhang Qingge's distraction have to do with him escaping death?

"Wasn't the risk of death coming from those two guys at her table?" he wondered, throwing Mao Yunru a puzzled look.

"You must be thinking the danger comes from the guys sitting at her table, but it doesn't." Yang Qing said with a knowing smile. "The real danger… is Zhang Qingge herself."

Cheng Yuan blinked in confusion.

"You've probably noticed how shy she is. There are only a handful of people she can hold a normal conversation with without getting flustered—those at her table, myself, and Jiang Fu. If she were just ordinarily shy, there wouldn't be a problem. But she… reacts differently than most when she's made extremely anxious or embarrassed. And do you know what triggers her the most?"

Yang Qing leaned in slightly, his tone dropping into something almost conspiratorial.

"Being stared at. Especially when the stare is filled with… less than pure intentions."

Cheng Yuan swallowed nervously.

"A long while back," Yang Qing continued, "a core disciple of a rank-four sect made the mistake of trying to take liberties with her. It was during her sect evaluation, and because of her small frame, he didn't realize she was a judge. He got a little too persistent—especially since her shy reactions only seemed to encourage him."

Yang Qing sighed dramatically.

"Unfortunately for him, her anxiety eventually reached its limit… and that's when her violent side kicked in. She crippled him on the spot."

Cheng Yuan felt a cold sweat forming.

"The sect master and elders rushed in to intervene, but by then, she was already in her rampaging state." Yang Qing shook his head. "She crippled them too. Then she destroyed half their sect."

Cheng Yuan's face lost all color.

"So, my good friend Cheng Yuan," Yang Qing said, flashing an innocent smile, "if you don't want your cultivation destroyed in the most painful and violent way imaginable… I strongly suggest you stop staring at her so much."

He could practically hear Cheng Yuan's soul leaving his body.

Cheng Yuan's back was drenched in sweat as he hastily picked up his pace, eager to get back to the safety of the courts. He had been dancing with death without even realizing it.

That little conversation, however, would end up haunting him for years. It was the very reason a bizarre rumor took root in the Green Fog Swamp Sect—the legend of a ghost patrolling the sect at night.

Cheng Yuan's nightmares of Zhang Qingge's vengeance became so vivid that he often woke up panic-stricken, drenched in cold sweat. Just to be sure the sect hadn't been attacked in the night, he would get up and patrol the grounds.

One fateful night, a few young disciples happened to spot their sect master wandering the sect, pale as a ghost, eyes darting around in paranoia. And from that moment on, whispers of a restless spirit roaming the Green Fog Swamp Sect began to spread.