How to Properly Use the Sect Leader, Part 3

The second-year graduation standard was Foundation Establishment Great Perfection, so it was reasonable that all third-year senior sisters were at the Golden Core stage.

—

Since the Song Family Head had softened first, the lead senior sister, Ling Yunxiao, didn’t press further.

She said, “Come, apologize to my junior sister.”

The Song Family Head, a prodigy nurtured by the entire clan’s resources, was a prominent figure in Tianque City.

Apologizing to a mere Qi Refining junior? Where would he put his face? If he bowed now, the Song Family might never recover its standing in Tianque City.

He scanned Su Qing coldly, his face darkening. “This hardly seems proper…”

His voice trailed off as five Golden Core cultivators fixed him with icy stares, each brimming with more killing intent than the last. The youngest was already cracking her knuckles.

The Song Family Head fell silent. He couldn’t win.

Even if he called for reinforcements, he’d at best summon a Nascent Soul expert.

But Sword Sect’s fourth-year students were crawling with Nascent Souls.

If these five Golden Cores called five Nascent Souls, the Song Family would be done for.

A moment’s humility versus a lifetime of it—he knew the choice.

A true leader could bend or stand tall. Thirty years east, thirty years west—never underestimate the young, the middle-aged, or the old.

Bowing now was just reading the room, not a big deal.

As a family head, he quickly came to terms with it. Resolute, he said, “Today—no, now—we’ll vacate Honey Spirit Tea and return three times the principal and profit. Please, young friend, be magnanimous and don’t hold it against us.”

This admission settled the matter: the Song Family had wronged, stolen, and usurped.

The crowd buzzed. “He looks upright but has such a black heart!”

“Cultivators pulling these stunts—what’s the difference from bandits?”

“Shameless Song Family!”
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The Song Family cultivators seethed, wanting to rip mouths apart, but they only dared think it.

Acting against mortals under Sword Sect’s watch would land them in the Disciplinary Hall, stripped of cultivation and exiled to labor.

Amid the clamor, Su Qing stood quietly.

Even facing a Golden Core’s submission, she remained unmoved, back straight, gaze level—bright yet cold.

Her rightful demeanor irked some, as if she placed herself equal to the Song Family Head.

But on what grounds? A mere Qi Refining nobody, only bold because of her backers!

Her words amplified the irritation. “You don’t admit fault or bow. What kind of apology is that? I feel no sincerity.”

The Song Family Head’s eyes blazed, pupils shrinking to pinpoints. “Nameless upstart, how dare you be so arrogant!”

“My junior sister’s right,” Ling Yunxiao said coldly. “You’re not convinced, just putting on a show! Either we settle this fairly here, let your Song Family’s blood apologize for your mouth, or we take it to Sword Sect’s leader. Which do you choose?”

But as before, he couldn’t win. It was a matter of inferior skill.

The Song Family Head masked his cold gaze.

The sect leader? These women were so brazen because they claimed to be his direct disciples, weren’t they?

They thought they could bully anyone. He had strength and means.

Once this was over, he’d report to the main Song Family, forcing the Sword Sect leader to punish them personally.

Thinking this, his tone softened, his manners polished, his emotions sincere.

With a forced smile, he bowed. “The Song Family was wrong. Please, young friend, don’t be angry. I, Song, apologize here.”

Su Qing nodded, accepting without helping him up.

She wasn’t playing nice. They were wrong—should she say, “Oh, no trouble at all”?

She wanted to call Jia Song over to share the moment, but he shook his head so fast it blurred.

Fine, he couldn’t handle it.

Ling Yunxiao, seeing Su Qing’s upright stance, whispered to the second senior sister, Chu Nian, “Our junior sister has real backbone.”

“That’s good,” Chu Nian replied. “No backbone, no path in cultivation.”

What’s more, this junior sister was consistent. She never looked down on the weak or up to the strong. She had her own scale, knowing her place.

That was rare.

Soon, Song Youyi, with a mournful face, tallied three years’ profits, paid triple, and led his dejected crew back to the Song Family, jobless.

The deed bearing the giant “Song” character vanished.

Su Qing held the new deed and keys, realizing: Honey Spirit Tea was hers again.

It needed renovations, so she didn’t rush to reopen. First, she thanked her senior sisters. “Thank you for standing up for me. It’s lunchtime—shall we go to Tianxiang Tower?”

Ling Yunxiao had mentioned Tianxiang Tower, so it must be good.

Chu Nian, thinking of what lay ahead, sighed. “We should eat first.”

Su Qing offered to treat, and the sisters didn’t demur. They headed to Tianxiang Tower.

Body cultivators had big appetites, but how many spirit stones could a meal cost? Even spending all three years’ profits wouldn’t matter.

Without her seniors, Su Qing couldn’t have reclaimed her shop so fast.

At the restaurant, they ordered, ate three rounds, and were stuffed.

Li Ming’en, the youngest, dropped her chopsticks first, followed by Jia Song.

Su Qing and the seniors battled six rounds; she fell third-to-last.

The youngest senior sister, Jin Jin, was the last, earning the “rice bucket” title.

Sated and slumped in chairs, they finally exchanged names.

Su Qing introduced herself, followed by Li Ming’en and Jia Song.

Ling Yunxiao said her name, Chu Nian the second, Li Youxiang the third, Si Cheng the fourth, and Jin Jin the youngest.

So, who was the famed Zhang Han’yi, the sect leader’s direct disciple?

“You’re asking that?” Ling Yunxiao, sipping a small wine jug, paused at the question, downed her peach blossom wine, and smiled.

“Naturally, it’s the array school’s senior brother. Who else could claim that title?”

Su Qing was shocked but not surprised.

She knew it!

—

**Clear Spring Pavilion**

Wang Quan was handling sect affairs.

Sword Sect, a colossal entity, had six academies, plus various power structures, external liaisons, and back-mountain dealings.

Daily tasks were endless—jade slips could collapse shelves, documents snowed onto his desk, cleared only for more to arrive.

Rubbing his brow, he lamented his bitter fate.

Since becoming sect leader, he hadn’t had a good day.

With third- and fourth-years absent, second-years in the realm, and first-years clueless, he’d enjoyed a few peaceful years.

Had he known it’d come to this, why become sect leader? Roaming the world sounded better.

If his master were alive, he’d be a sword-wielding hero, slaying evil, famed across lands, his name etched in the Sword Pavilion.
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Why was he stuck wiping Sword Sect’s messes?

Dreams aside, work remained. He scanned a jade slip reporting the Yinlan City beast tide.

The tide, recurring every century, stemmed from Wan Beast Forest’s spirit, culling excess beasts when numbers overwhelmed its capacity.

A money-making chance. Wang Quan replied, “Grab beast hides and cores during the tide to sell. If you can’t fix the deficit, no year-end bonus.”

After replying, he noted the tide seemed fiercer this year—something was off.

Twirling his fan, he pondered the anomaly.

A wicker chair suddenly shuffled its legs, signaling a guest.

Wang Quan smiled expectantly. “Who’s visiting at this hour?”

Maybe someone bringing money? Was it the Wang Family’s bribe—no, gift—or the Chen Family’s red envelope—er, goodwill?
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Only collecting money made him feel human.

With a sleeve flick, the door opened.

Song Guanshi, furious, stormed in with the Song Family Head, both tearfully pleading, “Sect Leader, you must uphold justice!”

Wang Quan’s divine sense swept the Song Family Head, who mirrored the tearful act.

“Song has a grievance to report! Your direct disciple Zhang Han’yi ran rampant in Tianque City, treating cultivators like livestock, disregarding hierarchy, and acting lawlessly with her status.

It’s unbearable! If this continues, it’ll harm the sect’s reputation. Please, Sect Leader, investigate and restore our sect’s honor!”

Wang Quan’s good mood vanished, his temple throbbing, as if returning to his old job.

Zhang Han’yi? Probably Ling Yunxiao!

Six years, and they’re back from the realm so soon? Third-years returning meant trouble.

Despair crept in, but he remained gentle, asking, “How many years have you been with the sect, Song Guanshi?”

“Three, since the Shenzhou Song Family recommended me.”

Song Guanshi didn’t know why he asked but emphasized his Song Family ties. To him, Sword Sect’s decline forced power-sharing, and Wang Quan, who proposed it, had to respect the Songs.

Little did he know Wang Quan thought: *Only three years? No wonder he dares complain.*

Gently, he offered wicker chairs. They resisted; he glared behind his sleeve, and they grudgingly complied.

He summoned a jade teapot, brewing spirit tea. Mist rose, incense filled the air, and the two relaxed slightly.

Song Guanshi shot the Song Family Head a look: *Told you he’d help.*

The Song Family Head nodded, his grim face softening. This sect leader seemed decent.

Wang Quan saw it all but stayed silent.

Softly, he said, “I’m a champion of justice. Tell me exactly what happened. If they’re wrong, I won’t spare them.”

With this assurance, the Song Family Head spoke.

Cautious at first, the tea and Wang Quan’s trusting gaze loosened his tongue, and he spilled everything.

“Oh, so your subordinates acted without your knowledge, and you didn’t mean to steal the tea shop?” Wang Quan asked delicately. “You’ve dismissed them, so they shouldn’t disrespect you?”

The Song Family Head, finding a kindred spirit, nearly pounded his chest. “Exactly!”

Song Guanshi and the Song Family Head looked up eagerly, awaiting justice, ready to see those reckless girls suffer.

Wang Quan sighed leisurely. “Since it’s come to this, let’s discuss compensation.”

“Compensation?” The Song Family Head’s eyes gleamed, though he feigned dignity. “I care about honor, not wealth. But if you wish to discipline them, returning the extra two-thirds of spirit stones would be a lesson.”

Wang Quan disagreed. “No, we must follow rules.”

The Song Family Head knew he’d read him right. He was ready to compensate.

The shop’s profits were hefty—double compensation would be ideal.

As he dreamed, Wang Quan said gently, “You misunderstand. The compensation’s for me.”

He’d calculated it.

“First, Zhang Han’yi isn’t my direct disciple. Your slander harms my reputation. Given my fame as Sword Sect’s leader, I’ll charge ten thousand spirit stones for defamation.”

“Second, Zhang Han’yi’s in the realm. The one you mentioned isn’t him. I recall your words—‘rampant, lawless.’ Vile. You owe Zhang Han’yi five thousand spirit stones for defamation,Chapter 110: How to Properly Use the Sect Leader, Part 2 which I’ll hold.”

“Third, your baseless accusations waste my time. My bounty in the demonic sect is ten billion spirit stones. Time is life. You wasted a ten-thousandth of mine, so ten thousand for my life.”

“Fourth, my students did no wrong—you did. I wouldn’t bother, but since you’re here, I must deal with you. Fifteen thousand spirit stones for your lives.”

“Total: forty thousand.” He paused, muttering, “Only forty? Too low. Round it to fifty thousand. Pay now or wait for your family to ransom you?”

Song Guanshi and the Song Family Head trembled, incredulous. “You—”

“Me?” Wang Quan was considerate. “No worries, I accept either method.”

For a legacy family like Tianque City’s Songs, fifty thousand spirit stones was a fraction of their wealth—maybe a tenth or twentieth. It’d just mean tightening belts for a year or two.
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But Sword Sect was truly poor.

Wang Quan flicked his fan, adding gently, “One extra day, one thousand more interest. Pay when you’re ready—I’m not rushed.”

—

Sated, Su Qing returned to Sword Sect with her five senior sisters.

The day wasn’t over—explaining to the sect leader was another skill.

Ling Yunxiao said, “Junior sister, learn well and pass it to the next batch.”

Su Qing followed obediently.

Back at the sect, they washed up, then each grabbed bedding and pillows.

Su Qing was puzzled. “What’s this for?”

“Voluntary confinement,” Jin Jin, the youngest, said. “We did nothing wrong, but it’s a big mess. Better sleep in confinement for three months.”

“We’re exhausted from the realm. Confinement includes meals—what a deal. After three months, we’re refreshed, we’ve shown our stance, and the sect leader can’t punish us further.”

“Exactly,” Ling Yunxiao said. “We left the mess for him to clean. He’ll likely carve some meat from the Song Family and thank us.”

“Even if he demands money,” Chu Nian said blankly, “do we look rich?”

Su Qing watched them yawn, clutching bedding, cheerfully entering confinement, and was stunned.

What a watertight defense.

So, the proper way to use the sect leader was: stir trouble, then toss the mess to him.

And he’d thank them.

Su Qing lowered her lashes, then looked up, eyes resolute.

She’d learned!