After the call ended, Qi Xuansu looked at Qi Wangui. “Do you have anything else to say? That is Sage Wanmiao’s stance.”

Qi Wangui’s face turned ashen.

Qi Jiaozheng’s position was clear. He only asked for a low-profile handling, which showed he had no intention of offending Qi Xuansu.

Qi Xuansu said nothing more, turned, and left. He instructed Xu Kou to detain Qi Wangui for the time being until after his meeting with Qi Jiaozheng.

In other words, Qi Xuansu was in no hurry to close the case. When to conclude the case and when to transfer it to the Fengxian Hall was under Qi Xuansu’s control.

Great Sage Shi was the one who told Qi Xuansu to contact Qi Jiaozheng, so naturally, he had no objections.

When Qi Xuansu was about to leave the Wanxiang Daoist Palace, someone took the opportunity to organize a reunion of former classmates.

While some disliked Qi Xuansu, others sought to curry favor with him.

They were completely different groups.

Qi Xuansu had little interest in the reunion, but skipping it would seem arrogant and ungrateful. One could not claim that the Wanxiang Daoist Palace was home while simultaneously looking down on former classmates and instructors. It would be contradictory.

His lack of interest was not due to disdain for old acquaintances, but rather indifference to what such gatherings usually entailed.

When former classmates gathered, it was usually about the same few things.

Those who had done well wanted to show off. Qi Xuansu certainly qualified, but it would be pointless. For example, if the Heavenly Preceptor wanted to boast about his granddaughter, he would do so to peers like the Imperial Preceptor or Earthly Preceptor, not to a low-ranking Daoist. That would only seem ridiculous.

Otherwise, they reminisced about youthful pride and missed romances. Qi Xuansu’s youthful boast had been about wielding the Sword of Wisdom, and he had already achieved it years ago. It was no longer a boast, so reminiscing about it felt more like bragging than nostalgia. As for “missed romances,” that usually referred to Yue Liuli. But Qi Xuansu was the reason she was imprisoned, so there was nothing sentimental about that.

Reunions often exist because people were dissatisfied with the present and missed their carefree youth. This was the only part Qi Xuansu could relate to, but only slightly. He had little to complain about his current life. He had built a family and career, with a bright future ahead. If given the chance to return to the past, he would refuse without hesitation.

It was like a game of chess. Only upon making a bad move would one wish to take it back. When winning, one would only want a perfect finish.

Qi Xuansu could already foresee a crowd gathering around him, flattering him and asking for favors, promotions, or financial help.

He was caught in a dilemma. Helping or not helping both had consequences. If he helped, he would certainly face accusations of abusing power for private gain. If he did not help, he would be criticized for being heartless and ungrateful. Even if he remained a good Daoist, people around him would not like him.

No matter how one framed it, Qi Xuansu was stuck in the middle, pleasing no one.

In such circumstances, it was no wonder he was reluctant to attend. But he had no choice. He had to go.

He could only hope that his earlier decisive action of taking down a Deputy Palace Master would intimidate some people, whether friend or foe.

After all, the line between friend and foe was often blurred. Qi Wangui, who was from the Quanzhen Sect, should have been an ally, yet he secretly undermined him. Li Zhuyu, who was from the Taiping Sect, should have been an enemy, yet she helped him resolve many problems.

Qi Xuansu attended the gathering alone at the Star Observation Deck near Xingye Lake. Nearby stood a four-story pavilion called the Star Observation Tower, a restaurant overlooking the scenic lake below. It was highly sought after, open only to the Upper Palace, and usually fully booked.

Normally, such a place would act with arrogance due to its prestige. But this time, the organizers invoked Qi Xuansu’s name, saying Chief Deputy Qi was hosting a reunion there. The manager immediately closed the venue for a day, dedicating it entirely to Qi Xuansu. They did not even charge a single Taiping coin.

This was likely the combined effect of Qi Xuansu’s potential appointment as Palace Master and his recent takedown of the Deputy Palace Master.

Qi Xuansu did not flaunt his status by arriving late on purpose. He came right on time, but most people were already there.

Not many classmates from his cohort remained at the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. Most had scattered far and wide. But once they heard Qi Xuansu would be returning, those who could made their way back. For an ordinary reunion, those who had not done well might avoid coming out of embarrassment. But this time was different. No matter how successful they were, they could not surpass Qi Xuansu. Even the least successful one could turn their fortunes around with a single connection to him.

As a result, the turnout was unusually large, far exceeding previous reunions. Even people from earlier or later cohorts, who were at least somewhat familiar faces, came to join the excitement.

It was said that a temporary committee was formed to organize the reunion, with Mo Qingdi elected as the head. After all, he was acquainted with Qi Xuansu. No one mentioned the once-popular Wan Xiuwu and Yue Liuli.

Of course, Mo Qingdi was just a figurehead. If not for his luck in associating with Qi Xuansu when they were younger, no one would bother with him, let alone make him the head of the committee.

Mo Qingdi could not handle such a grand event. The real organizer behind the scenes was Cheng Lixue.

Cheng Lixue was three cohorts senior to Qi Xuansu and had been a prominent figure at the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. Coincidentally, they shared the same interests—firearms and the Holy Xuan Cards. They first met at a shooting range, where Qi Xuansu hit the bullseye ten times in a row, leaving a strong impression on Cheng Lixue. Their second meeting was at a Holy Xuan Card tournament, where they faced off as opponents. Gradually, they became acquainted, though not particularly close.

Later, during the Fenglin Campaign, they crossed paths again. Cheng Lixue even tried to introduce Qi Xuansu to certain connections. Even though Qi Xuansu declined, it brought them closer, and they maintained occasional contact afterward.

Cheng Lixue was capable. Since he intended to align with Qi Xuansu, there was no reason to refuse him. Compared to Mo Qingdi’s awkwardness, Cheng Lixue was adept at handling people. This reunion was largely organized through his efforts.

Cheng Lixue was already standing at the entrance of the Star Observation Tower. The moment he saw Qi Xuansu, he was the first to step forward. “Chief Deputy Qi.”

Qi Xuansu waved his hand. “This is a private gathering, so no need for titles. Just call me by my courtesy name, Tian Yuan.’”

“Tian Yuan,” Cheng Lixue immediately corrected himself, sounding noticeably warmer than when Qi Xuansu had only been a regular Deputy Hall Master of the Ziwei Hall. Being the Chief Deputy was like three levels of advancement.

“Old Mo and the others have already arrived,” Cheng Lixue said.

Cheng Lixue knew that Mo Qingdi was the only classmate who regularly corresponded with Qi Xuansu, so he naturally grew closer to him as well, casually calling him Old Mo. In the past, a prominent figure like Cheng Lixue would not even have known who Mo Qingdi was, let alone taken him seriously.

Cheng Lixue even felt a bit envious that Mo Qingdi could regularly exchange letters with Chief Deputy Qi, something he had no privilege of doing. At best, he could only send greetings during major festivals. Anyone else in Mo Qingdi’s position might have soared to great heights long ago, but Mo Qingdi seemed content with what he had.

Then again, perhaps it was precisely Mo Qingdi’s contentment that preserved their relationship. If he had constantly asked Qi Xuansu for favors, Chief Deputy Qi might have distanced himself long ago.

Was it wisdom disguised as foolishness? Or just a lucky fool who occasionally stumbled upon the right approach?

In truth, Mo Qingdi knew his own limits. It was his lack of ability that allowed him to know his place. Much of human suffering came from the mismatch between one’s abilities and desires.

When Qi Xuansu was ushered inside, the people who had been sitting around in small groups all stood up at once.

It made it seem less like he was attending a reunion and more like he was inspecting the Daoist Palace.

Qi Xuansu raised his hand slightly to gesture for them to sit. “We’re all classmates, so no need for formalities. Just relax.”

Three people stepped forward to greet him—Mo Qingdi, Shi Yu, and Song Yu.

Qi Xuansu greeted Mo Qingdi first, casually and sincerely, then turned to Shi Yu. “Old Shi, Qing Xiao still mentions you from time to time.”

Shi Yu was both flattered and surprised that the legendary Zhang Yuelu remembered her. Still, she did not dare take it too seriously. After all, it was unrealistic for someone as busy as Zhang Yuelu to keep mentioning her.

Qi Xuansu then looked at Song Yu. “Senior Sister Song, you’re here too. How have you been lately?”

Song Yu felt rather conflicted, though she did not show it. “All is well. Thank you for your concern, Tian Yuan.”

Cheng Lixue then called out to everyone, inviting them to dine first.