The Everything Agency and the Madman’s Past

“May you have a smooth journey, Senior Brother.”

“Mm.”

Nan Jiumu stood before the mountain gate, watching Gu Bei board Yun Qingyi’s Dharma Vessel and soar into the distant clouds.

She remained standing there, gazing after him for a while.

A sudden breeze swept by, gently lifting her long hair.

She lowered her gaze for a moment, then, after a long sigh, turned and re-entered the gate.

Senior Brother had been stuck at the peak of Qi Refinement for quite some time now.

Both she and their junior sister knew exactly where the problem lay.

His Dao Heart was clouded.

Constant forbearance and retreat had gradually eroded his drive and ambition, consumed by the trivialities of daily life.

Junior Sister’s repeated challenges to spar with him were merely an attempt to rekindle his ambition through endless victories.

Yet, it was all in vain.

They also knew the root cause of the issue.

However, they were powerless to intervene; in this small sect, only Gu Bei and that particular individual were considered master and disciple, while the rest of them had essentially been raised and guided by Gu Bei himself.

Though called inner disciples, they were effectively no different from registered disciples.

Thus, even knowing the problem lay with Mu Qingsi and Gu Bei, they could do nothing.

Nan Jiumu’s figure, seen from behind, appeared somewhat indistinct in the wind.

She suddenly gazed skyward, towards the azure expanse.

The only truly commendable aspect of their small sect was the unchanging scenery, beautiful throughout all four seasons.

It was the kind of beauty that made one easily forget how many years they had already spent within these mountain gates.

‘From the day Senior Brother brought me back until today, it must have been… seven or eight years already…‘

Her voice dissipated into the vast sky.

The more complacent and withdrawn Senior Brother became now, the clearer the image of that uninhibited, carefree young man who had saved her that night grew in her memory.

“Senior Sister, what are you looking at?” Wenren Qingluan, having appeared beside Nan Jiumu at some unknown moment, gazed up at the sky with her. “Is there anything interesting to see?”

“Nothing much,” Nan Jiumu replied, retracting her gaze with a smile, meeting Wenren Qingluan’s curious, almond-shaped eyes.

She reached out and gently patted the younger girl’s head.

“What were the circumstances when Senior Brother rescued you back then?”

“Didn’t I tell Senior Sister about it before?” Wenren Qingluan asked, puzzled.

“I want to hear it again.”

“Oh, alright then.”

****

At that moment, Gu Bei, who was seated in the Dharma Vessel brewing tea for Yun Qingyi, raised his arm, bent his elbow, and sneezed into his sleeve.

The hand holding the teapot trembled, spilling a few drops of tea.

Yun Qingyi watched him, her expression unreadable.

Gu Bei offered her an apologetic smile, then poured the tea to seven-tenths full before gently pushing the teacup in her direction.

“It’s truly not easy to get a cup of tea brewed by you.”

“What nonsense are you speaking? It’s not as if you’ve ever been polite with me, have you?”

“Hm?” Yun Qingyi, taking a sip of tea, raised an eyebrow and glanced at Gu Bei.

“What I meant was, you can call me anytime if you wish to drink tea,” Gu Bei chuckled.

“Hmph.” Yun Qingyi’s gaze returned to her tea, her eyes lowered to the liquid in her palm.

With a soft clink, she set it gently on the table.

“The situation at Clear Stream Valley is quite complex. Although they’ve agreed to cooperate with us, I have a persistent feeling they’re withholding something,” Yun Qingyi stated calmly after setting down her teacup, crossing her arms and leaning back against the seat. While her posture exuded a sense of casual relaxation, her expression remained sharp. “They specifically asked for you, likely wanting you to go personally and resolve their issues—I simply can’t fathom what problem would require your particular expertise.”

“Nor can I,” Gu Bei chuckled.

“Could it be that our Little Sword Sect’s Senior Disciple Brother is actually quite renowned outside?”

“Perhaps a slight reputation, but I imagine the circumstances differ from what you’re thinking.”

“Then trouble yourself to explain it clearly.”

“In the very beginning, before you, Guest Elder Yun, arrived, I alone managed the sect’s affairs, top to bottom. Without the foundation, resources, experience, or wits for legitimate ventures, my methods for earning money became somewhat unconventional. Once Master discovered them, that path was naturally cut off.”

“Hm, and then?” Yun Qingyi nodded, arms still crossed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“Then… I opened a shop that took people’s money to resolve their troubles.”

“An assassin?” Yun Qingyi looked at Gu Bei with a hint of unfamiliarity in her eyes. “You, an assassin?”

“Of course not. As you said, how could someone as insignificant as myself engage in such a high-end profession as an assassin? My ‘troubles’ are of a finer, smaller variety—domestic disputes, petty grievances, that sort of thing,” Gu Bei replied, smiling as he lowered his head to brew tea.

His tea-brewing technique had always been simple.

One might even call it crude.

Yet, it was highly efficient.

It omitted many steps he was too lazy or unable to learn, all without compromising the tea’s flavor.

“So, this time, Clear Stream Valley agreed to cooperate after hearing of our Senior Disciple Brother Gu’s reputation?”

“Of course not. My abilities are limited; they likely called me to resolve some minor issue. It must surely be because of Guest Elder Yun’s capabilities that they acknowledge our Little Sword Sect,” Gu Bei said, chuckling as he raised his teacup and took a sip.

“What happened then?”

“Then?”

“You stopped doing it after I arrived?”

“Because I no longer needed to. With Guest Elder Yun here, there’s no need for me to take those risks anymore,” Gu Bei said, a look of genuine gratitude on his face.

“Very dangerous?”

“Somewhat.”

“For example?”

“For instance, intervening in disputes between sects and local aristocratic families.”

Yun Qingyi shifted slightly from where she leaned against the backrest, uncrossed her arms, and picked up her teacup for a delicate sip.

Her hands then rested casually on the table as she looked at Gu Bei.

“If you’re unwilling to speak, then don’t.”

Though her words were spoken coldly, her facial expression suggested otherwise.

“To give an example, before Guest Elder Yun arrived, perhaps… four or five years ago, there was a seventh-grade sect in North River. One of its elder’s personal disciples, enraged after failing to win the affection of a direct daughter from a local cultivation aristocratic family, attempted to murder her.”

“North River? Are you referring to… Listening Tide Sect?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Gu Bei replied, shaking his head, his smile unwavering.

“Speak,” Yun Qingyi pressed, her brow slightly furrowed, her tone tinged with coercion.

“Well, since Guest Elder Yun insists, I suppose I’ll break a little professional etiquette and tell you,” Gu Bei said with a sigh and a smile, a hint of resignation on his face.

“So, you won’t die if you don’t use honorifics, after all.”

“Guest Elder Yun jests.”

Yun Qingyi fell silent, her slender, jade-like fingers tapping irritably on the tea table.

“It was the Listening Tide Sect.”

Yun Qingyi nodded slightly.

Her phoenix eyes, which now seemed somewhat unfeeling, fixed steadily on Gu Bei.

Gu Bei merely lowered his head, smiling as he drank his tea.

Silence settled in the Dharma Vessel for a moment.

“And then?” Yun Qingyi pressed, a touch of impatience in her voice.

“There was no ‘then.’ That personal disciple was confined for ten years, and the young woman left for a distant land. The matter was closed.”

“Gu Buqi, Gu Bei, Young Master Gu, you know my patience has its limits,” Yun Qingyi said, her tone far from pleasant.

“Ah?” Gu Bei looked up, startled, his tea-brewing motion frozen mid-air. “W-what’s wrong?”

“…” Yun Qingyi couldn’t tell if he was feigning ignorance to tease her or genuinely unaware. Suppressing her irritation, she said coldly, “Everyone knows the outcome. I want the process.”

“What’s there to say about the process…” Gu Bei scratched his head, a hint of confusion on his face. “Arrogant second-generation scions are so easy to manipulate. Just a simple lie, with the aristocratic young lady’s cooperation, and he foolishly charged into his own sect’s forbidden area. After that, there was no ‘then,’ you see.”

“Indeed…” Yun Qingyi nodded slightly with satisfaction, then furrowed her brow again. “So, where was the danger you spoke of earlier?”

“Because, apart from that personal disciple, everyone else could see it was a setup afterwards. It would be truly strange if his elders and sect didn’t come looking for me to settle accounts.”

“And how did you resolve it?”

“I gifted them a cultivation technique, followed by some persuasive words.”

“You didn’t flee?”

“Fleeing is useless. One can’t simply offend the local powers everywhere they go. That wouldn’t be doing business to earn money; that would be courting death. If the whole world became my enemy, where would I find refuge?” Gu Bei’s eyes and tone were equally languid. “Turning enemies into friends, and conflict into peace, that is the true path.”

“Wait a moment, what kind of cultivation technique did you give them?”

“I named it ‘Tidefall Palm.’ Disciples below the Foundation Establishment stage can cultivate it, and based on my estimation, it should remain effective even into the early stages of Foundation Establishment.”

“You… named it?” Yun Qingyi’s beautiful eyes, usually sharp even when expressionless, widened slightly, the coldness vanishing from them, replaced only by stupefaction.

“Indeed.”

“Self-created?”

“Indeed.”

“How could you—no, why have you never mentioned any of this?”

“Because you never asked.”

“Does one with such ability usually need to be asked? Shouldn’t they be proclaiming it everywhere for the whole world to know?”

Gu Bei chuckled softly, a hint of disappointment and self-mockery unconsciously appearing on his face. “What is there to boast about? That I haven’t reached Foundation Establishment in fourteen years? In this world, after all, cultivation level is paramount.”

“But a self-created cultivation technique…?” Yun Qingyi was somewhat stunned by the revelation. “How do you ensure it’s effective?”

“Ah, because I tested it myself.”

“Are you insane?!”

“What else could I do? My talent is lacking, I can’t do business, and I’m not good with words. So, all that’s left is to risk my life, isn’t it?” Gu Bei scoffed. “Once you understand the principles, you can deduce cultivation techniques, spells, evasion arts, and movement techniques. And the result of not succeeding, well… it’s merely qi deviation and nearly going mad, but you get used to it.”

“You truly are a madman,” Yun Qingyi said, her gaze and tone both complex.

“Actually, I value my life greatly, but in a lifetime, there are always things more important than life itself. I’m fortunate to have found mine when I was six,” Gu Bei said, shrugging.

“Are you talking about that Master of yours, who knows nothing but loves to give arbitrary commands?”

“I won’t allow you to speak of her that way.” Though he said this, Gu Bei’s face was filled with agreement.

“My Master simply wishes to expand the sect to prove herself to others, and as her disciple… I just humor her, letting her believe that the sect’s current standing is all her doing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Have you ever considered…” Yun Qingyi began, her voice faint.

“Never mind. How you choose to act is your own concern,” Yun Qingyi said, shaking her head slightly, devoid of much emotion.

The Dharma Vessel slowly descended before the Clear Stream Valley mountain gate.

“We’ve arrived.”