Inside the Dao-Proving Tomb, everything was quite simple and unadorned, embodying the true meaning of “Wu Wei” (non-action) in its atmosphere. Every time Colin Foster passed by a taller memorial tablet, he would bow deeply—those were all predecessors who had contributed to the Wu Wei Sword Sect. He walked all the way to the end, where the oldest memorial tablet was enshrined: the tablet of the sect’s founder, Master Franklin Clark. The founder’s tablet was also plain; aside from being slightly larger, it was no different from the others. Colin Foster prostrated himself, kneeling with his whole body to the ground, and solemnly reported word by word: “Before the founder, the seventeenth-generation disciple of the Wu Wei Sword Sect, Colin Foster, respectfully reports: There is now a child of extraordinary quality, afflicted with a strange and deadly poison. I beg the founder to grant a Golden Elixir to save his life, and permit me to take him as my disciple, so that he may bring honor to the Wu Wei Sword Sect in the future!”

After he finished speaking, he remained motionless on the ground. Suddenly, the stone wall beneath the founder’s tablet shifted, and a stone drawer popped out. Colin Foster slowly stood up and walked over to take a look, then froze in surprise: inside the stone drawer was only half a Golden Elixir, cut perfectly in half! What did this mean? Colin Foster pondered silently. Not daring to linger, he picked up the half Golden Elixir and respectfully withdrew. All the way back, he kept wondering—what did the founder mean by this? Could half a Golden Elixir really save him?

He thought about it the whole way, until he returned to the Wu Wei Sword Sect. Passing by the main hall, his gaze happened to sweep over the plaque inscribed by the founder himself, reading “Wu Wei, Fearless.” Suddenly, he understood: “Oh, so that’s what it means…” He hurried back to his room, where Nolan Clark was keeping watch by Grant Benson’s side. Seeing his uncle-master return, he quickly asked, “How did it go?” Colin Foster reached into his sleeve and took out his hand. “Half a pill?” Nolan Clark looked in surprise at the half Golden Elixir in Colin Foster’s hand. Colin Foster gave a wry smile and said, “Uncle-master, I spoke wrongly—I shouldn’t have said anything about making him bring honor to the Wu Wei Sword Sect and such. Wu Wei means fearlessness; wishes like ours go against the essence of the Wu Wei Sword Sect!”

Nolan Clark nodded, then asked worriedly, “But can this half Golden Elixir really save him?” Colin Foster replied, “Since the founder arranged it this way, there must be a reason.” He walked over to Grant Benson, helped him up, and placed the half Golden Elixir into his mouth. “Alright, find a quiet room for him to rest. When he wakes up, see if he’s willing to join our Wu Wei Sword Sect. If he’s unwilling, just send him down the mountain.” “Yes, uncle-master.”

Awakening from a deep sleep, Grant Benson stretched comfortably, then suddenly jumped in fright: how did he end up here? Wasn’t he sleeping halfway up the mountain? He hurriedly got out of bed and carefully examined his surroundings. Just then, the door opened and Nolan Clark walked in with a smile. “You’re awake…” Grant Benson looked at Nolan Clark with guarded eyes. He had already guessed where he was—if he fell asleep on Misty Rain Peak, where else could he be but the Wu Wei Sword Sect?

“Come, sit down. I have something to discuss with you.” Nolan Clark sat by the table and beckoned to Grant Benson. Grant Benson hesitated for a moment, but still walked over. Nolan Clark looked at Grant Benson kindly, but the clueless Grant Benson felt a chill under his gaze. Nolan Clark told him the whole story, and Grant Benson was left somewhat at a loss…

What Nolan Clark told him put him in a difficult position. Grant Benson’s whole life—at least, the life he lived as Grant Benson—was one of repaying every favor and avenging every wrong, never owing anyone, nor allowing anyone to owe him. But now, he owed the Wu Wei Sword Sect an enormous debt of gratitude. How could he ever repay it? Even when he was the Lord of Bone Fortress, one of the Three Saints of the Demonic Path, the dignified Wu Wei Sword Sect would hardly have given him a chance to repay such a favor, let alone now, when he was powerless. Nolan Clark had made it clear: saving a life is a great benefit to any cultivator’s practice, and the Wu Wei Sword Sect did not expect him to repay them—only hoped he would join their sect. Yet to accept such a favor without repaying it was not Grant Benson’s way. Joining the Wu Wei Sword Sect had been his intention from the start, so it hardly counted as “repayment.” His current predicament left Grant Benson in a dilemma.

Chapter 005: Wu Wei Servant

Nolan Clark left, giving Grant Benson time alone to think things over. He had already explained all the rules of the Wu Wei Sword Sect to Grant Benson; if Grant Benson was willing, he would have to start as a sect servant. Alone in the room, Grant Benson mulled over his life up to now—he had never owed anyone anything, and now he was burdened with such a huge debt of gratitude. He was restless, not knowing when he could ever repay it. In the midst of this agonizing contemplation, Grant Benson actually fell asleep without realizing it!

Half a Primordial Golden Elixir—its medicinal power was ultimately insufficient. Though the poison was cured, it left aftereffects: from then on, Grant Benson would always, unwittingly, doze off from time to time!