But the moment the thought arose, another practical problem doused it with a bucket of cold water.
Getting down the mountain.
Easy to say, but harder than climbing to heaven.
The Spirit Sword Pavilion placed few restrictions on its formal disciples. They only had to report their plans, and they could go down the mountain to gain experience.
But for Chore Disciples like them, the rules were strict to the extreme!
To put it plainly, Chore Disciples were the Sect's slaves and property. They were confined to the tiny patch of ground that was the Chore Servant Courtyard, and some might never see what the mountain gate looked like in their entire lives.
Sneaking down the mountain was a grave violation of the Sect's rules. If caught, they would lose their cultivation at best and be executed outright at worst!
Although he was now the Chore Disciples' competition champion and basked in glory throughout the courtyard, in the eyes of the Sect's higher-ups, he was still an insignificant ant.
Applying to go down the mountain through the proper channels was nothing but a pipe dream.
What should he do?
Zhou Xuan furrowed his brows, unconsciously rubbing his chin as his mind raced.
Sneak down the mountain? Too risky. The Mountain Protection Array wasn't there for show. If the patrol disciples caught him, it would be over.
Force his way down? That would be suicide.
He rejected one idea after another.
Suddenly, a pudgy face covered in an ingratiating smile surfaced in his mind.
Chief Steward Wang!
Zhou Xuan's eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth curled into a cold, cruel smile.
Right. How could he have forgotten him?
That greedy, stupid fellow was probably treating the Pseudo-Top-Grade Blazing Yuan-Burning Pill Zhou Xuan had given him as a divine pill