Chapter 2: The Grand Birthday of the Lu Family Patriarch

Mount Dragon and Tiger, the Grand Hall of the True Immortal. The black stone pillars inlaid with golden cloud patterns gleamed so brightly they could reflect a person’s image.

Within the hall, the present Celestial Master, Zhang Jingqing, sat at the center. His sword-shaped brows and white hair, accompanied by a vigorous, bristling beard, gave him a commanding presence.

Tap, tap!

A tall figure swaggered into the hall.

Zhang Zhiwei stopped in the center of the hall. “Master!”

Zhang Jingqing asked, “How is your progress with the Thunder Technique?”

“I’m stuck at the Mind Monkey stage and have no clue how to proceed. Do you have any guidance, Master?” Zhang Zhiwei replied honestly.

“There is no solution,” Zhang Jingqing said. “The mind monkey is difficult to tame. You grew up here on Mount Dragon and Tiger, experienced too little, yet your cultivation has advanced rapidly. Your mind hasn’t kept pace with your abilities, so you’re bound to hit a bottleneck. If you want to pass this hurdle, you must travel, experience the world, temper your mind.”

“You mean you want me to leave the mountain and go on a journey?”

Zhang Jingqing shot him a sidelong glance. “I’m not at ease letting you go out into the world.”

Zhang Zhiwei: “...”

“Listen to yourself. You think I’m not to be trusted?”

Zhang Jingqing glared at him. “You’re always leading your juniors into mischief, never following the rules. Look at yourself—do you seem like a true cultivator?”

Zhang Zhiwei scratched his head and smiled without replying. He respected his master deeply, but there was no distance between them.

He had traversed into this world ten years ago and had stayed by Zhang Jingqing’s side ever since. Their bond was profound.

He knew his master’s temperament well—easygoing, and even his occasional fits of anger were only sharp words hiding a soft heart, quickly forgotten.

It could be said that the old Celestial Master’s quirky personality in the original story was largely inherited from Zhang Jingqing himself.

At that moment, Zhang Jingqing flicked his finger, and a streak of golden light shot toward Zhang Zhiwei.

Clang!

Zhang Zhiwei caught the golden light steadily. Examining it, he found a letter of invitation within, its cover inscribed with the character “Lu.”

Seeing Zhang Zhiwei catch the golden light with such ease, Zhang Jingqing was taken aback.

The strength behind that flick was the limit of the golden light Zhang Zhiwei had demonstrated in his last practice. By all rights, he shouldn’t have been able to catch it so effortlessly.

Unless he had made significant progress recently... The realization dawned on Zhang Jingqing.

For a moment, Zhang Jingqing’s feelings were mixed.

As a master, he should feel gratified that his disciple was so gifted.

But as the Celestial Master, he could see what others could not.

Zhang Zhiwei was powerful—exceptionally so—but his temperament had serious issues.

He was arrogant—far too arrogant.

But this was not the arrogance of someone reckless and wanton. If it were merely brashness from relying on his strength, eager to show off and pick fights, Zhang Jingqing would have known a thousand ways to correct it.

But Zhang Zhiwei’s arrogance was of a different order—a self-assurance so absolute he cared nothing for others, a conviction that with him at the summit, no one else mattered.

It was not belligerence, but a higher kind of detachment; perhaps he did not even bother to look down on others.

In Zhang Jingqing’s eyes, Zhang Zhiwei was like a lion atop the peak, gazing only at the sky—everything beneath his feet, all schemes and machinations, were no more than chickens and dogs, unworthy of attention.

This was a dangerous omen.

Throughout history, those who disregarded all others, no matter how great their skills, rarely met a good end.

Take King Xiang Yu or Saintly Warrior Guan Yu, for example... They stood at the pinnacle of the extraordinary world, unmatched among men.

Yet in the end…

No divine power could outmatch cunning; both met tragic ends.

Now, in these chaotic times, with similar unparalleled talent, how was Zhang Zhiwei any different?

In times of turmoil, intrigue and betrayal abound.

Having grown up in the sheltered peace of Mount Dragon and Tiger, Zhang Zhiwei had never witnessed the darkness of human nature, and how could his master not worry for him?

Thus, whenever there was an event in the world of the extraordinary, Zhang Jingqing would bring Zhang Zhiwei along, hoping to teach him that the world was not all about fighting and glory, but about human relationships and worldly matters.

He wanted him to understand that the world was full of young talents, and though he might be the first among the younger generation on Mount Dragon and Tiger, out there he was just another face. He needed a sense of crisis, a sense of awe, and to stop treating all heroes as nothing.

But ideals are one thing; reality is another.

Under his master’s arrangement, Zhang Zhiwei had often sparred with outstanding young talents from various sects.

Yet in front of him, these so-called prodigies were truly like chickens and dogs—unable to even break his defenses, or defeated in a single move.

Among his opponents, there were even those older than him, such as Li Ding, the young master from the Tang Clan.

Li Ding had been nearly five years his senior, already an adult and somewhat famous when he met Zhang Zhiwei at the age of thirteen.

But all his skillful maneuvers were in vain—he hadn’t even broken through Zhang Zhiwei’s Golden Light Incantation and lost in utter despair.

Victory after victory, defeating enemies in a single move, this fostered in Zhang Zhiwei a sense of invincibility.

And this very aura made Zhang Jingqing ever more worried. Was there truly no one in the extraordinary world who could temper this wayward disciple?

However, a letter of invitation that arrived this morning brought Zhang Jingqing a ray of hope.

The Eightieth Birthday of Old Master Lu from the Lu Family, one of the four great families in the extraordinary world, was to be celebrated in Jiangnan. He had invited the Celestial Master to join the festivities.

Old Master Lu was Zhang Jingqing’s close friend; their relationship was as deep as brothers.

In the letter, Old Master Lu praised his grandson, Lu Jin, to the heavens—prodigiously gifted since childhood, now a disciple of the Trinity Sect, having received the true teachings of its master, Immortal Zuo Ruotong, and unmatched among his peers. He hoped the Celestial Master would come and offer guidance.

In other words, it was much like modern parents boasting to their friends about their children’s achievements.

Zhang Jingqing, upon seeing the invitation, was immediately interested. His old friend’s grandson was so gifted? Excellent—let him teach this wayward disciple a lesson, let him learn the limits of the world.

In truth, Zhang Zhiwei was well aware of his master’s concerns.

He had already restrained himself greatly.

But knowing is easier than doing; the gap between understanding and action can be as wide as the heavens.

But this was inevitable. Who, in his shoes, having traversed into this world, knowing he would stand at its peak, looking down on the extraordinary, wouldn’t feel a bit proud?

Moreover, his talent matched all expectations. Whatever he studied, he mastered in an instant, and any ordinary technique in his hands became wondrous and powerful. It was only natural to feel a bit heady and develop an air of arrogance.

...

“Master, what is this?” Zhang Zhiwei asked, puzzled, as he examined the invitation marked with the character “Lu.”

“It’s an invitation. You’ll accompany me to Jiangnan to attend Old Master Lu’s eightieth birthday banquet.”