In other words—

Compared to sending Wei Fei to die on the battlefield, keeping him within the clan compound brought greater value to the Qiyue Zhao Clan.

Of course—

If Wei Fei had pledged allegiance to the Heshan Huang Clan instead, it would've been a different story entirely.

He likely would have ended up like Master Xia or Alchemist Shu—sacrificed without hesitation. After all, the Heshan Huang Clan was already running short on Foundation Establishment cultivators. Sending outcasts to die was the most profitable approach for their interests.

—Despite the losses the Qiyue Zhao Clan suffered in the Cloud Ze Secret Realm, they still had close to ten Foundation Establishment cultivators remaining.

“Drink! Drink!” Wei Fei didn’t say more. He threw his arm around Wei Tu’s shoulder and kept refilling his cup.

The two of them drank from midday all the way until the fifth watch of the night.

It was as if they had endless stories to share.

Endless wine to pour.

“Mom, are Dad and Uncle Wei really that close?” Wei Xian’er, standing in the kitchen with Zhao Ting while preparing snacks, watched the two drinking and looked puzzled.

For as long as she could remember, she had never seen Wei Tu visit their home. She’d only ever heard her father mention a few tales about him.

“They’ve been through life-and-death together,” Zhao Ting replied after glancing at Wei Xian’er. Her voice softened. “When you’re your father’s age, you’ll understand just how rare that kind of bond really is.”

“If I get to Dad’s age, won’t I be an old spinster by then?” Wei Xian’er pouted playfully.

Zhao Ting laughed, tapped her lightly on the forehead, and said sternly, “You can joke like this with me, but never say things like that in front of your father. He’ll smack you.”

“Right now, the reason we can live so peacefully here in the Zhao Clan’s compound is all thanks to your Uncle Wei’s help. Even the princess… she’s friends with him. In fact, she might even feel something more than that for your Uncle Wei.”

“The princess?” Wei Xian’er blinked.

There were many so-called princesses and noble ladies in the Zhao clan compound, but when any cultivator of the Zhao Clan mentioned “the princess,” they referred to only one person—Zhao Qingluo, the pride of the Zhao Clan.

“Zhao Qingluo and Uncle Wei have something special between them?” Wei Xian’er caught on to that particular detail. She didn’t know how Zhao Ting had come across such information, but she etched it firmly into her memory.

“But… Uncle Wei doesn’t look special at all. His appearance is totally plain. How did he win over Zhao Qingluo?” A bit of confusion still lingered in Wei Xian’er’s heart.

The more she looked at this mysterious “Uncle Wei,” the more enigmatic he seemed.

…

The next morning, after sobering up—

Wei Tu glanced at Wei Fei, who was still slumped asleep beside him at the table, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

By now, there were very few people in the world he could drink so freely with.

Only Wei Fei and Fu Zhizhou remained.

Kou Hongying, the Wei siblings, and the others were indeed important to him, but with them, he had to take on the role of a senior—he couldn’t let his guard down completely.

“Uncle Wei, my mother brewed some hangover soup,” Wei Xian’er walked over and handed him a bowl.

“Thanks, Xian’er.” Wei Tu nodded, accepted the bowl, and downed it in one go.

“Th-Thank you?” Wei Xian’er was caught off guard by his response. She quickly waved her hands, flustered. “Uncle Wei, there’s no need to be so polite! This is just what a junior should do!”

—This was the first time she’d ever met a Foundation Establishment cultivator who was this polite.

“Uncle Wei, it’s morning now. This is when the scenery of Qiyue Mountain is at its best. How about I accompany you on a stroll?” Wei Xian’er had grown curious about him and wanted to learn more.

His generosity the previous day had certainly left an impression.

“Sure.” Wei Tu thought for a moment and agreed.

Soon, he’d have to head to Cicada Cry Cliff. Who knew if he’d still have the leisure to enjoy mountain views after that?

The two of them exited the Wei household, one after the other.

With Zhao Qingluo’s token in hand, none of the Zhao Clan cultivators along the way dared to stop Wei Tu and Wei Xian’er.

“Uncle Wei, look—that’s the Moon-Watching Pavilion of Qiyue Mountain.” Wei Xian’er led Wei Tu to a pavilion.

She had Wei Tu stand atop the Moon-Watching Pavilion and gaze toward the southeast.

Before long, a crescent moon sank behind the peak of Qiyue Mountain, joining seamlessly with the towers and pavilions perched atop. Then, silver, gauze-like moonlight flowed down, enveloping the entire mountain in a fairyland glow.

“This is where Qiyue Mountain gets its name,” Wei Xian’er jumped onto the railing of the pavilion, stretching out her arms as she bathed in the moonlight, explaining enthusiastically like a cheerful girl next door.

Wei Tu smiled faintly at her, the way one might smile at their own daughter.

Wei Yan was too well-behaved, too proper and disciplined. Because of that, he rarely saw such unrestrained girlish liveliness from her, unlike Wei Xian’er.

With Wei Yan’s temperament, even if the scenery was breathtaking, she would never squeal with excitement like this.

“This is Wei Daoist’s daughter?”

“She’s got a delightful spirit.”

Just then, Zhao Qingluo appeared at Wei Tu’s side. She gathered her skirt and sat down beside him, giving her thoughts on Wei Xian’er’s behavior.

The faint fragrance unique to young women lingered beneath Wei Tu’s nose, stirring a strange sensation in his chest.

“Forgive me for the embarrassment, Daoist Zhao.”

Wei Tu rose slightly and gave a polite bow.

Seeing him avoid her so consciously, Zhao Qingluo didn’t mind. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a jade slip, handing it to him.

“This contains all the intelligence the Zhao Clan has gathered on Cicada Cry Cliff.”

After Wei Tu scanned the contents with his spiritual sense, Zhao Qingluo continued, “Cicada Cry Cliff may not rank among the top ten deadliest zones of the righteous-versus-demonic battlefield, but it’s still in the top twenty. It’s one of the primary attack fronts for the Demon Fiend Sect, one of the five major demonic sects. There’s a chance that Wen Ren is lurking there—you must be extremely cautious.”

Hearing this, a serious expression immediately came over Wei Tu’s face.

Wen Ren was a brutal figure who rose through the ranks of the Demon Fiend Sect after Zheng Kingdom became a main battlefield between righteous and demonic cultivators. He was spoken of in the same breath as Ni Shihuang of the Heavenly Maiden Sect and the Blood God Son of the Blood God Sect.

All of these so-called demonic prodigies were without exception near-invincible within the Foundation Establishment Realm, with power rivaling that of Pseudo Core True Lords.

Even though Wei Tu had killed Alchemist Shu, a Pseudo Core True Lord, that had been under special circumstances—Shu was gravely injured and far from his peak.

If he had to face a Pseudo Core True Lord at full strength, Wei Tu had no confidence in surviving.

“This is a Minor Shift Talisman granted to me by the Ancestor for life-saving use. Given your current danger, I’ll lend it to you for now.”

Zhao Qingluo paused briefly, then pulled a jade talisman from her chest and stuffed it into Wei Tu’s hand before he could protest.

“This jade talisman…” Wei Tu hesitated, unsure whether he should return it or keep it.

The Minor Shift Talisman was renowned—he, as a talisman master, had certainly heard of it. It was a third-rank talisman that could instantly teleport the user up to twenty li away. Incredibly rare.

Even the descendants of Golden Core cultivators might not own such a life-saving treasure.

And twenty li was beyond the divine sense range of a Golden Core True Lord.

That meant, to a certain extent, this talisman could allow someone to escape even a Golden Core-level pursuit.

However—

When Wei Tu looked up, he realized Zhao Qingluo had already vanished, having flown off from the pavilion in just a few breaths.

He placed the jade talisman into his storage pouch, then turned toward the direction she’d left and bowed deeply.

He had indeed saved Zhao Qingluo a few times in the past, but each time, it had been with personal gain in mind—not entirely out of goodwill.

The first time, he’d taken a Foundation Establishment Pill from her storage pouch.

The later occasions, Zhao Qingluo had returned the favor by giving him the Hundred Veins Blood Tempering Art, a powerful body-refining technique.

And now, she’d gifted him the Minor Shift Talisman.

Wei Tu couldn’t help but feel a little undeserving.