Chapter 37: A Slap on the Wrist

The central plaza of the Azure Cloud Sect's Outer Region had descended into utter madness. Disciples scrambled, fought, and yelled, completely consumed by the frenzy Lin Fan had ignited with his shower of Mid-Grade and the single, tantalizing High-Grade Spirit Stone. It was a scene of pure, unadulterated greed overwhelming any semblance of sect discipline.

Just as the chaos reached its zenith, a thunderous roar, amplified by the potent Qi of multiple Foundation Establishment cultivators, swept across the plaza.

"CEASE THIS CHAOS! ALL DISCIPLES, HALT!"

The sheer spiritual pressure in the command slammed down on the crowd. Most Outer Disciples, caught in the throes of Qi Refinement, stumbled or froze, their greed momentarily overshadowed by primal fear of higher realm authority. Several figures in the dark blue robes of Outer Sect Deacons descended swiftly into the plaza, their faces grim. Leading them, radiating palpable fury, was Deacon Meng. Sect patrols, previously struggling against the tide, now moved with renewed authority, pushing disciples back, restoring a semblance of order, occasionally confiscating stones dropped in the immediate vicinity during the crackdown.

Deacon Meng's sharp, angry gaze immediately locked onto the eye of the storm – Lin Fan, who stood calmly amidst the subsiding chaos, an infuriatingly placid smile on his face as he dusted off his simple robes.

Ignoring the lingering whimpers and resentful glares from the disciples being forced back, Deacon Meng strode directly towards Lin Fan, his Foundation Establishment aura pressing down intentionally. "Disciple Lin Fan!" he barked, his voice tight with suppressed rage. "Explain yourself! What is the meaning of this disgraceful spectacle? Deliberately inciting disorder on this scale is a serious violation!"

Lin Fan met the Deacon's glare without flinching, his own peak fifth layer Qi circulating calmly, subtly resisting the pressure. "Deacon Meng," he greeted with a polite, almost cheerful nod. "A misunderstanding, I assure you."

"A misunderstanding?" Meng scoffed, gesturing widely at the still-trembling disciples and the scattered remnants of Lin Fan's 'generosity'. "This level of disruption? Caused by you single-handedly throwing valuable Spirit Stones around like common grain? Explain the source of these resources, Lin Fan! Where does a supposed Outer Disciple acquire wealth sufficient to treat Mid-Grade and even High-Grade stones as refuse?" His voice grew louder, demanding answers not just for himself, but for the hundreds of watching disciples.

Lin Fan maintained his calm smile. "As I may have mentioned during our previous encounter, Deacon, I was fortunate enough to receive a significant family inheritance," he reiterated the thin excuse. "And having recently experienced some success in my assigned sect tasks," he added, subtly referencing his high-profile mission completions, "I felt moved by a moment of spontaneous generosity towards my fellow disciples who struggle for resources. I merely wished to share a small fraction of my good fortune."

He deliberately downplayed the value. "A few Mid-Grade stones... I confess, I did not anticipate such an... enthusiastic reaction from my junior brothers and sisters. Their fervor perhaps got out of hand. For the resulting disorder, I apologize." The apology dripped with insincerity, but it was offered.

Deacon Meng's face tightened further. The 'inheritance' excuse was flimsy, almost insulting in its vagueness, especially given the scale of wealth displayed. Yet... Lin Fan wasn't technically lying about his recent task successes, which were now widely known and had impressed even some Deacons. And while inciting disorder was punishable, the act of giving away personal property wasn't explicitly forbidden by core sect law. Meng lacked concrete proof the stones were stolen or obtained through illicit means, making direct confiscation of Lin Fan's personal wealth or severe punishment like expulsion difficult without initiating a potentially complex and politically sensitive investigation into this increasingly prominent disciple.

Furthermore, Lin Fan's calm demeanor, his subtle resistance to Meng's aura, and his known combat prowess (defeating a Wraith single-handedly was no small feat) made the Deacon hesitate. Pushing too hard without definitive cause against such a rapidly rising, potentially well-backed (even if via 'inheritance') disciple could backfire.

Meng took a deep, calming breath, reigning in his visible anger. "Disciple Lin Fan," he said sternly, his voice regaining its authoritative edge. "Your 'generosity', as you call it, caused a severe disruption to public order, bordering on riotous behavior. It wasted valuable sect time, required Deacon-level intervention, and undermined the discipline we strive to maintain. While the source of your questionable wealth remains unverified for now, your actions today warrant censure."

He couldn't punish the wealth, but he could punish the chaos.

"As a penalty for inciting public disorder," Meng declared loudly, ensuring the surrounding disciples heard, "you are hereby assigned one month of service cleaning the Spirit Beast Stables in the Northern Paddock! You will report there immediately after this. Consider this a lenient warning. Any further such disruptions, regardless of your supposed intentions, will result in significantly harsher consequences, including potential confinement and a full investigation into your resources! Do you understand?"

Cleaning the Spirit Beast Stables – a notoriously smelly, dirty, and tedious job usually reserved for disciples facing disciplinary action or those with the lowest aptitudes. It was meant as a public humiliation and a tiring chore.

Lin Fan simply inclined his head. "Understood, Deacon Meng. I accept the penalty." His expression remained neutral, perhaps even slightly amused internally. A month of stable duty? A trivial price to pay for the staggering amount of System Points he'd just acquired. His primary goal had been achieved spectacularly.

Deacon Meng gave him one last hard stare, then turned to direct the patrols in fully dispersing the remaining crowd and cleaning up the plaza. Disciples scattered, whispering excitedly, recounting the unbelievable scene, arguing over who managed to grab stones. Lin Fan's legend grew another, stranger chapter – the insanely wealthy disciple who showered the Outer Sect with Spirit Stones and got assigned stable duty for it.

Lin Fan ignored the lingering stares and turned away from the scene. He mentally checked his System interface.

[Current System Points: 15,105] (The exact number after the High-Grade stone display)

Over fifteen thousand points. Enough for one hundred and fifty standard lottery draws.

A wide, genuine grin finally spread across his face as he walked away from the plaza, heading not towards his hut, but nominally towards the Northern Paddock stables. The penalty task could wait just a little while. First, it was finally time to see what treasures awaited him in the lottery. He could easily find a secluded spot near the stables to conduct his draws.

The system's wheel of fortune beckoned once more, now backed by an enormous surplus of points earned through the fine art of the squander.