Inside the room.
He Huaian, who had originally been holding a wine jar, had already set it down.
He was rather rueful. One jar of wine had cost him dearly.
Nine thousand Spirit Sources.
This disciple really did not treat himself as an outsider.
He had asked for that much right off the bat.
"Master, your disciple is the Heavenly Pride of this age."
"Master, I'm at Foundation Establishment Middle Stage, almost at late stage. All I need is a push from you. I'll definitely repay you properly afterward."
"Master, investing in a Heavenly Pride will bring you reflected glory."
"Master, I'll bring home first place in the next Annual Assessment."
"Master, if ten pills won't do, eight will work too."
"Master, a Heavenly Pride down on his luck is a sight rarely seen throughout the ages. It's time to lend a helping hand."
The barrage of words kept pounding at him.
In short: I'm the Heavenly Pride, I'm powerful, I'm amazing. Send money.
In the end, He Huaian had still given him five Earth-Origin Pills.
"This disciple really does love making people laugh."
He Huaian raised the wine jar and drank again. "Other people come here to learn pill refining. He comes here to swindle food and drink.
"He dares to slap any title onto himself.
"If he were really that impressive, his fame would have taken flight long ago."
In the sect, scores and rankings were the truest measure.
Everything else could be faked.
But scores absolutely could not be falsified.
You could suppress your score, but you could not raise it out of thin air.
He Huaian heaved a heavy sigh.
He had never expected taking a disciple to create so much trouble for himself.
He would have to be careful about accepting disciples this year.
Still...