Wei Long woke to the sound of chanting.
Not the peaceful, monk-like kind. No — this was motivated, synchronized, and unmistakably martial.
He sat up and peeked over the edge of the ruined pavilion.
There they were.
Five new disciples, standing in formation beneath a freshly painted banner that read:
"Cloud-Piercing Sect – Home of the Unseen Path"
The newcomers were clad in matching grey robes, holding swords, staves, and at least one lute. Each radiated the kind of intensity that only came from deep delusion or bad poetry.
Lin Qian stood proudly at their front, hands behind her back like a junior general.
"Master Wei," she said, beaming, "your new students have arrived from the Verdant Cloud Sect! They said Elder Mo personally sent them to train under your unorthodox guidance."
Wei Long squinted at the group.
One was doing slow, swirling arm movements like a tree in a storm.Another was standing on one foot atop a bamboo shoot.A third was whispering to a squirrel.
"…Unorthodox," Wei Long muttered. "That's one way to describe it."
The tallest disciple stepped forward and bowed deeply. "I am Liang Shen, former peak disciple of Verdant Cloud's Wind Pavilion. I humbly request guidance."
Wei Long nodded, still half-asleep. "Uh… have you eaten?"
Liang Shen hesitated. "N-not yet, Master."
"Then that's your first lesson," Wei Long said, walking off. "Train your stomach before your sword."
The disciples gasped.
Lin Qian's eyes widened. "He's telling you to seek nourishment from the world, to learn by tasting life!"
The squirrel-whisperer wept softly. "How profound…"
Wei Long walked behind the shrine and groaned into his hands. "I can't keep doing this…"
That afternoon, Duan Fei attempted to organize a training session.
"Master Wei once said the environment is the greatest teacher," he declared, leading the disciples into the forest.
Wei Long had actually said, "Watch your step, the slope's muddy."
Lin Qian conducted "Spirit Resistance Training," which involved the disciples sitting under a waterfall until they either hallucinated or passed out.
Wei Long, meanwhile, tried to repair the teapot that was still broken from the monkey-tiger incident.
But peace was short-lived.
A commotion erupted near the forest path.
"Master! A challenger approaches!" Duan Fei shouted, dashing into the courtyard.
Wei Long groaned. "Again?"
This time it was a young girl, no older than fifteen, dressed in red robes and carrying a massive coffin on her back.
She marched right up to Wei Long and bowed.
"My name is Mei Lin of the Crimson Solace Sect. I have come to kill you."
Wei Long blinked. "Why?"
She unstrapped the coffin, revealing a massive sword nearly twice her size.
"Because my brother came here three weeks ago to challenge you. Now he writes poems. He keeps trying to teach our sect goats how to 'find stillness.' I want him back."
Wei Long vaguely recalled someone falling off a cliff while trying to understand "mountain posture."
He nodded solemnly. "I see. And you think killing me will fix this?"
"Yes."
"That… makes sense," he said politely.
Mei Lin charged.
Wei Long stepped backward — purely out of fear — and tripped over a rake someone left in the grass.
The rake's handle popped up, hitting a hanging bamboo wind chime, which knocked over a flowerpot, which fell onto a passing goat, who panicked and ran headfirst into Mei Lin's leg.
She stumbled, slipped, and knocked herself out cold against the shrine wall.
Silence.
Then applause.
One disciple whispered, "He predicted her aggression and used the goat as a living formation!"
Another said, "Did you see how he backed away at the exact moment of impact? His spatial awareness is divine!"
Duan Fei bowed low. "Master Wei, you've defeated the Crimson Solace Death Maiden without lifting a hand."
Wei Long looked at the unconscious girl and the still-vibrating goat.
"I think she has a concussion," he said.
Lin Qian nodded. "A concussion of enlightenment."
By sunset, the girl was resting under a blanket, the new disciples were copying goat stances in the courtyard, and Wei Long was hiding in the cellar.
He stared at a dusty jug of rice wine.
"…Maybe if I drink enough of this, I'll wake up in a quiet village with no one calling me 'Master.'"
But from outside, he could hear someone call:
"Master Wei Long! The carpenter has arrived to expand the courtyard!"
He sighed.
Because of course he had disciples now.
A sect.
An elder's backing.
And possibly a goat-based martial style named after him.
To be continued...