Mount Zenith, Tomb Sect, seventh day after the group settled in.
After a week of getting used to things, the team started accepting new members and finally looked like a real group. Everyone found their spot, and the vibe got way more chill. The mascot did its mascot thing, the comic relief did its comic relief thing—everyone had their job. Since the two big bosses up top barely cared about management, Lola Lotus, Phoebe Phoenix, and the other former cave and island lords became second-tier admins, each with their own turf.
Hannah Frost, the earliest member to join, became the camp’s second-in-command... Wait, scratch that, third-in-command... Actually, never mind, there are a bunch of people with unclear status, like Lady Simone, our resident low-tier lackey. Anyway, Hannah—whatever number she is—ended up as the camp’s chief steward, handling daily affairs and becoming a real MVP.
With her arrangements, everything ran like clockwork—no disasters so far.
But even if you don’t make trouble, trouble finds you. On the seventh day, Hannah suddenly heard a commotion—some folks were arguing, voices loud and sharp, zero chill. She frowned and floated over, only to find three Taoists blocking the camp entrance.
These three Taoists, each with their own look, really lived up to their monk status—their orientation was as straight as a steel beam. Even faced with a bunch of cute girls, they just glared and held their ground. Little Peach led the group in a standoff, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a sword.
“What’s going on?” Hannah wondered, instantly guessing the gist: “Could these guys be from the True Reality Sect?”
Sure enough, the three Taoists started shouting: “Who are you people, barging into the forbidden grounds of our True Reality Sect? The headmaster has declared—no one’s allowed in! You’ve crossed the line, so get out now, or don’t blame us for being ruthless!”
Little Peach wasn’t one to let things slide, so she shot back: “Mount Zenith isn’t yours, this valley isn’t yours, and if you guys don’t come here, that’s your problem—not ours! What’s next, your headmaster gonna control the sky, the earth, and the air?”
Hannah immediately felt a headache coming on.
Less hassle is better than more hassle—at least, that’s Hannah’s middle-aged motto. She’d rather not butt heads with the True Reality Sect if she can help it. The whole Clear Void Temple mess was different; there were reasons, the enemy was wiped out, and nobody would gossip. The Shaolin Temple incident was unavoidable, but in her book, the fewer conflicts, the better. And this time, honestly, it’s hard to say who’s right and who’s wrong.
It’s basically a martial arts rule: forbidden zones are off-limits to outsiders. So, the three Taoists aren’t totally out of line. But here’s the twist—while this place is a True Reality Sect forbidden ground, it’s not actually their turf. So, yeah, they’re kind of sticking their noses where they don’t belong.
Seeing the argument getting louder, Hannah quickly sent someone to fetch Guo Xiang, hoping her connections could help smooth things over. She also stepped up herself, trying to keep the peace. “Best let the boss decide this one. But the problem is…” Hannah glanced at the lush trees and rolling peaks of Mount Zenith, looking a bit put out. “Where the heck did the boss run off to?”
Yep, once again, thanks to the hair-dye drama, Jill Young, and Wu Zhenfeng—who was busy chasing Jill down—and even Blackie, who thought it was some kind of race and dragged his crew along for the chaos, had all vanished to who knows where.
Mountains—lush, green mountains.
Forest—thick, leafy forest.
Mountains, water, forest—add in dappled shadows and the rustling sound of wind through the leaves. As the branches swayed, a tall, slim figure silently darted behind a big tree. She pressed her back to the trunk, poked her head out, eyes wide and alert, scanning left and right. In a flash, she took in everything outside, then melted back into the shadows.
Yep, the person doing her best 'spy thriller face' was none other than Jill Young, on the run to avoid having 'poop smeared on her hair.' The place was empty, but her expression was Oscar-worthy—full-on high-tech criminal artsiness, like she could sniff out enemies in the 'anxious wind.'
"Hey, HQ, this is Snake," she whispered, pressing her finger behind her ear like she had a real mic. "I’ve shaken off my pursuers and set everything up. Blackie’s already moving according to my plan—and my lies. If the enemy’s not dumb, or is just dumb enough, or just loves drama, they’ll chase Blackie. When the time comes, I’ll hit them with a thunderbolt and totally blow their minds! Operation 'Fishing for Trouble'—begin! Over!"
She finished her report, dialed up her senses, and double-checked the area. All clear. With a whoosh, she vanished again, leaping between treetops, gliding through the green world normal folks could never reach. The thick branches gave her cover, but not even a twig brushed her—no noise, no fuss.
Mount Zenith is massive. The True Reality Sect only claims a tiny part of it, while the sprawling mountains are full of peaks and valleys. Jill Young zipped up to a high summit, tucking her long hair into her collar to hide its shine and nestling herself in the thick leaves. She shrank her pores, leaving not a trace of scent, and scanned the area with sharp eyes. In the distance, she could hear faint rumbling—so far off, yet still audible. It was a herd of Akhal-Teke horses, running wild.
"I knew Blackie would betray me. I knew you’d use Blackie to track me down." Jill’s gaze was icy, like a master swordswoman gripping her blade, looking down on clueless slimes: "You think his nose can find me? You think I wouldn’t care about my scent? Too naive! What goes around comes around. Debts must be paid. When I catch you, I’m going to dye your hair white!"
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Whoosh! With a kick, she was gone in a flash, the young branch she’d used for leverage swaying gently behind her. As her inner strength grew, her new-and-improved light footwork was getting smoother by the day.
On the way, she put every stealth-game trick she’d ever learned to use, racing toward the trap’s location. In no time, she’d arrived. Perched high in a tree, she watched the herd of horses thundering closer. Their time cooped up in the mountains had them raring to go—now, like kids after school, they were running wild, shouting and playing.
“Heh, just as I thought—this is the only way through. I’ll just wait here and be patient.” Jill smirked, totally in control, but then her face froze.
She spotted, among the herd of Akhal-Tekes, a donkey that looked half-dead from exhaustion?! Oh right, it was Guo Xiang’s shaggy donkey—the one that still didn’t have a name. What was a stroll for the horses was a marathon for the donkey; it was already foaming at the mouth.
But wait, since when did that donkey get so motivated? Did it swear brotherhood to Blackie with incense and a chicken head, and officially become Blackie’s new sidekick—uh, new donkey? When did Blackie start recruiting across species? Not bad, not bad, that’s very much my style. And from afar, a foaming donkey trailing behind a herd of horses was so eye-catching, you couldn’t look away.
Heh, if you’re clueless enough, this sight will totally grab your attention. Even just for a second—it’s enough.
So, keep your eyes open—there’s gotta be an enemy lurking nearby!