Does This Take Talent Too?

The Patrol Prefecture, three years later.

What had once been a solemn, imposing place had long since changed beyond recognition. The main hall was now lavishly decorated, with not a trace left of its former appearance.

Lin Chang'an lounged lazily against a brocade couch. One maid kneaded his shoulders, while his legs rested in another maid's lap as she massaged them.

In the spacious main hall, six dancing girls swayed gracefully. Beneath their thin gauze skirts, their slender waists moved in gentle rhythm.

To one side, a beauty dressed in an ornate, sumptuous gown sat with her head slightly bowed, fully absorbed in playing the zither.

"Haha, Junior Brother Lin, you still know how to enjoy yourself."

Zhang Qing, his face weathered by hardship, stepped inside. Seeing the place where he had once worked with such authority transformed into a den for listening to music and watching entertainers, he was not the slightest bit angry. Instead, his face was full of smiles.

"Senior Brother Zhang, I only finished refining pills yesterday." Lin Chang'an half-reclined lazily on the brocade couch with a weary look, smiling as he invited Zhang Qing to sit nearby and listen to the music.

Yet as Zhang Qing watched the elegant music and dancing fill the main hall, he shook his head and waved a hand. The zither music came to an abrupt halt. The pampered dancers respectfully bowed their heads and, taking tiny measured steps, slowly withdrew.

Seeing this, Lin Chang'an could not help but sigh. How mannerly—they even made their departure so refined, not daring to show the slightest breach of etiquette.

"Senior Brother, what could be more important than listening to music? I just finished refining a batch of pills."

Watching the dancers leave, Lin Chang'an smacked his lips. The maids serving at either side respectfully bowed and slowly withdrew as well, and he turned to look at his senior brother.

"Junior Brother Lin, you...!"

Seeing Lin Chang'an so content to indulge himself, Zhang Qing scolded him with an exasperated smile. "You've certainly been living a comfortable life these past three years."

Seeing Zhang Qing's envious expression, and with no one else around, Lin Chang'an glared at him irritably. "I can't play around. Can't I at least watch and listen to some music?"

Hearing Lin Chang'an's complaint, Zhang Qing burst into laughter. Indeed, the man could not fool around—could he not even look?

"Junior Brother, I think you'll be able to play around soon enough, won't you?"

Zhang Qing waggled his brows as he spoke with a grin. The instant Lin Chang'an heard that, he flared up, abruptly sitting upright and draining his tea in one gulp.

"Play around, my ass. I've only just broken through to the sixth layer of Qi Condensation!"

Whenever he thought of it, Lin Chang'an could not help feeling stifled. He had been here for three and a half years now. His cultivation speed could not be mentioned in the same breath as those geniuses, but it was not slow either.

At twenty-one, being at the sixth layer of Qi Condensation already counted as exceptional talent here.

Seeing Lin Chang'an grumble, Zhang Qing chuckled. "Junior Brother, isn't Murong Yue, with her High-grade Spirit Root, only at the sixth layer of Qi Condensation too?"

"How is that the same?" Lin Chang'an curled his lip. Over the years, the cultivation resources he had received far exceeded hers. After all, the value of a genius pill refiner was far greater than that of a mere cultivator with a High-grade Spirit Root.

"Three years of peace, and some people are already no longer satisfied with the status quo. Human hearts have always been like this."

Zhang Qing suddenly sighed. Cultivators like them, born in a land of chaos, cherished peace all the more—but profit had always been this way.

At Zhang Qing's sigh, Lin Chang'an raised a brow and tested him with a smile. "Senior Brother Zhang, aren't you overstating things? Aren't they just a few small fry hopping about?"

Zhang Qing did not answer Lin Chang'an's probing. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and took several account books from his storage pouch.

"Junior Brother Lin, quite a few bandit cultivators have been secretly harassing us lately. A great deal of our supply sources have been robbed. Even disciples from our sect have suffered casualties. These are our recent losses."

At this point, Zhang Qing paused, then grinned ingratiatingly and opened an account book, pointing at its records.

"Junior Brother, take a look. We've suffered quite a few losses."

Though he spoke of the sect's losses, Zhang Qing licked his lips with a broad smile and held up three fingers, asking tentatively, "Junior Brother Lin, the brothers have spent more than three years working for the sect without going home. How about we inflate the report by another three percent?"

Good heavens—who could have imagined that Zhang Qing, who had once only skimmed a little off the top in secret, would become like this after just three years? Without even needing Lin Chang'an to say a word, he was already increasing the reported losses himself.

An additional three percent in reported losses! Looking at the altered marks in the account books, Lin Chang'an raised a brow and calmly examined them.

"Senior Brother Zhang, isn't this rather inappropriate?"

Hearing this, Zhang Qing's face immediately crumpled. With a pained expression, he retracted one of his three fingers, leaving two. Yet Lin Chang'an still shook his head.

Seeing that, Zhang Qing's face instantly looked as though both his parents had died. "Junior Brother, what can one percent even do?"

"Junior Brother, you're still young. You don't understand how hard it is to break through to late Qi Condensation. When I was young, I was too honest. That's why I didn't get a few more bottles of pills. My breakthrough failed as a result, and all these years I've never..."

As he spoke of his sorrowful past, Zhang Qing's face was full of bitterness. If he had only had a few more decent pills back then, perhaps he would already have become an elder or honored guest of the sect.

People were always like this—they always believed that if they had done something back then, things would be better now.

Yet seeing Zhang Qing's bitter expression, Lin Chang'an merely shook his head calmly.

"Senior Brother Zhang Qing, you're mistaken. Bandit cultivators have been running rampant outside the Market recently. Not only has this affected the Market's stability, but some have even grown bold enough to rob our transported supplies."

As he spoke, Lin Chang'an set down his teacup, a grave expression appearing on his face. "The brothers below have given so much and sacrificed so greatly for the sect. Senior Brother, you clearly made an oversight in recording the losses in these account books."

As he said this, Lin Chang'an held up three fingers. Zhang Qing's gloom instantly turned to sunshine, and he beamed. "Junior Brother truly is loyal to the sect. Three percent sounds good!"

But Lin Chang'an calmly shook his head. "Senior Brother, you misunderstand. I mean thirty percent!"

Pfft!

Zhang Qing, who had been smiling as he raised his teacup, widened his eyes at those words. The tea in his mouth sprayed out all at once, and he began coughing repeatedly.

"Junior Brother! Thirty percent could easily cause trouble! How about ten percent?"

Without even having time to wipe the tea from the corner of his mouth, Zhang Qing sucked in a breath as he looked at Lin Chang'an's serious expression. It was as though he were saying, Junior Brother, are you serious about thirty percent? That's far too ruthless.

Yet in the face of Zhang Qing's shock, Lin Chang'an calmly lifted his tea and took a small sip. Then, narrowing his eyes meaningfully, he said, "I hear that bandit cultivators have become a scourge outside the Market lately. Clearly, this is a planned operation, with someone behind it."

"For the sect's prestige, Senior Brother should lead men and deal these bandit cultivators a crushing blow!"

Lin Chang'an paused there. Only when Zhang Qing looked somewhat puzzled did he slowly continue, "These bandit cultivators are brutal, slaughtering Market cultivators at will. In order to draw them out, Senior Brother Zhang Qing used valuable supplies as bait, concentrating his strength in a single battle to crush this group of bandit cultivators and defend the sect's dignity. However, the supplies used as bait were destroyed..."

Good heavens—Lin Chang'an's words had practically explained exactly where the losses had come from, flawless in every respect.

This was practically a report prepared for submission. Zhang Qing had experienced quite a bit over the past three years, yet he still swallowed hard and forced himself to appear calm.

"Junior Brother Lin, it's all for the sect."

Though this was not their first time doing such a thing, Zhang Qing truly could not suppress his shock. They had worked together for years—why was the gap between them so great? How could Lin Chang'an remain so calm and so ruthless, even thinking up such a rigorous explanation for the losses?

After this operation, despite reporting such enormous losses, Zhang Qing would not only avoid punishment—he might even receive credit for it.

Could it be that this sort of thing took talent too?

This book has made it onto the trial recommendation. In truth, how far a book can go can more or less be seen from the results of its first recommendation round. I hope all fellow Daoists will support it by keeping up with the latest chapters on Tuesday.