Chapter 45: Flying Jealousy (4000)

The scattered commoners down below did not recognize Yin Minjun, but the major sects seated to the north certainly did.

Although the Hengshan Sect appeared to come and go at Li Miao’s beck and call, seeming utterly lacking in prestige, in truth, Hengshan was a first-rate sect in the southern martial world—one that was both reputable and capable of holding its ground.

The standard by which martial world powers are judged ultimately boils down to how many masters they have within their ranks and whether they can consistently cultivate such high-level talents.

This can be summed up in four characters: wealth, companionship, doctrine, and territory.

Wealth: Does the sect have sufficient financial resources to support disciples in their training?

Companionship: Are there wise elders to impart knowledge and outstanding peers to advance alongside?

Doctrine: Is the internal transmission profound and excellent?

Territory: How broad is the geographical reach for recruiting and bringing talents into the fold?

A sect like Hengshan, which satisfies all four criteria and can reliably produce top-tier masters, is a genuine first-rate force—and among the top tier, one of the more outstanding examples.

Only Shaolin, Wudang, and the Ming Cult routinely produce supreme masters.

These three alone constitute the pinnacle of power.

Hengshan’s humbling demeanor before Li Miao stems solely from the fact that both Li and the Embroidered Uniform Guard represent a dimensional reduction strike when placed in the martial world.

At present, the more prominent southern sects—such as Emei and Kongtong—were dispatched by Li Miao to trouble the Miao people.

Those seated to the north were comparatively weaker first-rate sects, having been eliminated early from the contest for the Miao King’s tomb, hence their leisure to join this gathering.

A few exchanged glances and promptly recognized Yin Minjun.

“Isn’t that Elder Yin?”

“Definitely her. Why is she sitting down here?”

“Who’s the man beside her?”

“Never seen him before, but he looks remarkable. If he had a reputation in the martial world, we wouldn’t be stumped.”

The sect leaders whispered amongst themselves.

Yin Minjun, however, was entirely oblivious.

She was preoccupied with calculating just how far she should sit from Li Miao.

Two feet? Too distant.

She shifted her hips slightly toward him.

One foot? Probably acceptable.

Another move.

Half a foot? That would be plausible for close friends.

She moved another bit.

Two inches... After all, he said “just a little closer.”

She inched even closer.

After a few small shifts, she was nearly pressed against Li Miao’s arm, furtively glancing at him to see if he noticed.

Li Miao, composed and at ease, merely smiled inwardly, indulging Yin Minjun’s antics.

Those northern sect leaders gazed on in disbelief.

They had seen Yin Minjun before, as they all mingled in the southern martial world and had dealt with her often.

In their eyes, Yin Minjun was a graceful, capable master with exceptional sword skills.

What was going on today?

Why was she behaving like a lovesick maiden?

Possessed?

If not for her striking appearance, which left a deep impression among southern female masters, many would have doubted their recognition.

Most were simply astonished, but one’s face darkened.

No surprise—someone like Yin Minjun must have admirers.

Generally, in Great Shuo, women in their twenties were considered past the prime marriage age.

Yet Yin Minjun’s martial prowess, combined with Hengshan’s internal heart-method suited for women, nourished her vital energy, making her appear no different from a woman in her prime.

Moreover, she held high status and was beautiful.

This man harbored feelings for her but dared not speak openly, treating it as a secret dream.

Now, seeing his “dream” being offered so eagerly to another, how could he not feel pained?

He had privately approached Hengshan and Yin Minjun over a decade ago about this, but to no avail.

Watching her reach thirty unmarried, he assumed she had no such intentions and gradually gave up hope.

But now?

Her intentions were written all over her face!

Unable to bear it any longer, he rose abruptly.

“Please wait, everyone. I shall go greet them.”

With that, he strode toward Li Miao.

“I’ll go too.”

“Let’s all go.”

Others from the major sects also stood and followed.

Li Miao appeared completely unfazed, arms crossed and eyes closed, resting peacefully.

Yin Minjun was still agonizing over that final inch of distance, head down and flustered, unaware of the approaching visitors.

The disciples from the Huanjian Sect behind them changed color in unison.

They had no idea it was because of Yin Minjun; they assumed the major sects had discovered Li Miao’s outsider status and were banding together to exorcise the heretic.

The leading youth hesitated, then whispered urgently:

“Brother Li, Brother Li! The Dragon Gate Sect, Iron Sword Sect, and Tianmen Gang are all here. Wake up quickly!”

After all, the incident at the mountain gate was ultimately for their sake.

Though he suspected Li Miao was not one of the orthodox, he would not stand idly by.

Li Miao leisurely opened his eyes and looked toward the approaching group.

The foremost man’s gaze flickered repeatedly between Li Miao and Yin Minjun, clearly displeased.

Li Miao smiled.

He knew that look all too well—defeated dogs.

Whether in his past life or this one, he had seen far too many.

The man strode to Li Miao’s side, glanced briefly, then ignored him entirely, bowing instead to Yin Minjun.

“Elder Xiao, long time no see.”

Yin Minjun was in the middle of inching closer, trying to close that last inch of space.

Suddenly interrupted, she felt a flush of embarrassment.

She lifted her face, recognized the man, and replied coldly:

“Elder Xiao, it’s been a while.”

Then she greeted the others arriving behind him one by one:

“Leader Wu, Head Peng, Elder Fang, greetings.”

They smiled and returned the salutations.

“Elder Yin, these disciples seem unfamiliar. Are they Hengshan’s new promising talents?” asked some from the Huanjian Sect.

“Elder Yin, why sit here?”

“This place is noisy. Better to move northward for a proper greeting with Master Xingchi.”

Yet all tactfully avoided mentioning Li Miao.

It wasn’t that they harbored feelings for Yin Minjun; rather, the initial Elder Xiao’s increasingly sour expression suggested he would soon speak up, and they wished to avoid the mess.

They were seasoned veterans, knowing matters of men and women were the most troublesome and unreasonable, and preferred to stay uninvolved.

Sure enough, Elder Xiao, standing nearby, watched Yin Minjun chat with the group without keeping distance from Li Miao, not even sparing him a glance, which only worsened his mood.

He suddenly spoke:

“Brother, you seem unfamiliar. Are you Elder Yin’s friend?”

“Yet you have no moniker in the martial world. We tried to place you but failed.”

“May I ask your name?”

Though the question was reasonable, the tone was unmistakably sour.

Not only Yin Minjun but others from the major sects picked up on it.

They were curious about Li Miao’s identity but hesitant to ask.

Elder Xiao’s willingness to question made them happy to follow suit in silence, awaiting the unfolding drama.

Yin Minjun looked at Li Miao but said nothing.

Such questions required careful handling.

If Li Miao were merely a friend, Yin Minjun, as a woman, would introduce him first, then allow him to greet others.

If he were her betrothed, she would remain silent and let him introduce himself.

Though Great Shuo’s customs were less rigid than in Li Miao’s previous life’s ancient times, vestiges of feudal propriety remained.

Seeing Yin Minjun silent and looking to Li Miao like a shy bride, Elder Xiao’s face darkened further.

Li Miao had been amusedly watching the scene.

Having interrogated more criminals than they’d eaten buns, he was attuned to their true qi flow and heartbeats, instantly discerning their thoughts.

Especially Elder Xiao’s.

Back in Shuntian Prefecture, many had approached him claiming “I am more sincere” or “I’ve known her longer.”

No need to examine closely—he understood Elder Xiao’s intentions perfectly.

Simply a matter of familiarity.

When the spotlight shifted to himself, Li Miao smiled and cupped his hands.

“I am a wandering martial commoner, Li Miao. Greetings to all.”

After scheming with Zhu Zai, he no longer needed to hide his martial skills or identity in the martial world.

Though he would not reveal his Embroidered Uniform Guard status here.

The reason: a few major sects were currently dealing with the Miao people on his behalf.

If word spread that he was from the Embroidered Uniform Guard, those sects might suspect him as a tool of the court and refuse to assist, ruining his “vacation.”

So Li Miao presented himself as a common wanderer.

For someone who could strike down a dozen heads with one slap, declaring a name or not made little difference.

“Hero Li, my apologies for the discourtesy.”

“Long have I heard of you.”

Regardless of familiarity, martial folks knew these were standard pleasantries.

Elder Xiao’s eyes brightened.

A wandering martial commoner... meaning no sect, no backing?

A man in his thirties, unknown in the martial world, and mediocre at best in skill?

Could it be only his appearance that stood out?

I’m no worse! Why is she so taken with him?

Elder Xiao looked at Yin Minjun with a trace of grievance.

Yin Minjun did not even spare him a glance.

The word “no worse” was usually fair when describing others, but never when referring to oneself.

Elder Xiao was merely an average man, barely able to cultivate the air of a dignitary.

Compared to Li Miao... well, if the two went to a brothel together, Li Miao wouldn’t need to pay a dime.

And that bill would almost certainly be secretly chalked up to Elder Xiao—that’s how vast the difference was.

Lacking this self-awareness, Elder Xiao spoke again:

“Hero Li, you are indeed handsome, but without a sect or reputation, it is improper to sit among the northern seats.”

“Elder Yin’s concern for her ‘friend’ is commendable.”

He emphasized the word “friend.”

“However, since this is a major Shaolin event, and Elder Yin represents Hengshan, she should not sit here without paying respects to Master Xingchi.”

“Why not move north? Our Dragon Gate Sect will make room for you.”

The words were polished and flawless.

As a sect leader, he maintained face and would not expose the true meaning publicly.

Yet the subtle snub was unavoidable.

He implied Li Miao was unworthy of the northern seats, then asked his disciples to give up their places.

Those seats were behind the leader’s; were Li Miao to sit there, it would acknowledge his inferiority.

Yin Minjun grew irritated.

A sword cultivator’s temper was hardly gentle.

She had been the one chasing after Li Miao, even abandoning a woman’s modesty the night before, only to receive his “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

If Elder Xiao interfered now, she would be furious.

Her hand moved toward her sword’s hilt.

But a large hand grasped hers.

Li Miao squeezed her hand, signaling her not to mind.

Turning to Elder Xiao, he smiled:

“Then I’ll trouble you.”

He took Yin Minjun’s hand and stood, then turned to the Huanjian disciples:

“Come, I’ll take you to better seats.”

With that, he led them northward.

Yin Minjun, suddenly held by Li Miao’s hand, felt her palm sweat, cheeks flushed with shyness, yet dared not withdraw for fear he might not hold it again.

She did not draw her sword but lowered her head and followed with quick, hesitant steps—like a newlywed bride.

Elder Xiao’s face turned green watching this.

Li Miao plopped into Elder Xiao’s seat without ceremony.

Then he instructed the Huanjian disciples:

“Sit, all of you.”

“Just take the Dragon Gate Sect’s seats, the ones at the front where you can see clearly.”

“Elder Xiao has high status and a good vantage point. You won’t block him; just let him sit behind.”

Saying this, he stretched out his foot for a nearby chair, pulled it alongside, and helped Yin Minjun sit.

Leaning close to her ear, he whispered teasingly:

“Elder Yin, how’s this? Close enough now?”

He was making light of how she had been inching closer to him.

Yin Minjun blushed so fiercely she nearly cried.

“Ah! I, I—”

Li Miao smiled, patted her hand, and lounged back in the chair, lazily watching Elder Xiao and the others return.

Elder Xiao’s face darkened further and he coldly asked Li Miao:

“Hero Li, I kindly offered you a seat. What’s the meaning of this?”

“Oh, thank you.”

Li Miao adopted his usual casual expression that vexed Zhu Zai.

“These are all Elder Yin’s friends; I cannot show favoritism.”

“Thank you, Elder Xiao, for giving up your seat. I was just hoping for a better view to chat with Elder Yin.”

With that, he lifted Yin Minjun’s hand and waved it teasingly before him.

“You!”

Elder Xiao was furious yet forced a bitter laugh, already knowing Li Miao was mocking him.

He was about to retort when an elderly, hearty voice came from behind:

“Hero Li, Elder Yin, you have arrived.”

“The monk has waited long for you.”

Elder Xiao turned sharply to see Master Xingchi being supported by others, bypassing him entirely and walking straight to Li Miao.

(End of chapter)