This fine spring wine, though clear and sweet, had a powerful after-effect. The three of them, drinking the mysterious liquor and eating the meat of the unfortunate spirit beast, were soon so drunk they were swaying and staggering. The small spirit beast was quickly devoured by the three, leaving barely any bones behind. The reason was that Julian Reed, in his drunkenness, actually gnawed the bones as if they were fried dough twists—truly, it was thanks to his set of indestructible iron teeth!

Chapter 011: Sealed Meridians, Closed Doors

The next morning, when they woke up, Julian Reed and Gordon Brooks found themselves lying in bed. Julian Reed slapped Gordon Brooks: “You’re a real pal, you even dragged me back!” Gordon Brooks was puzzled too: “I thought you were the one who brought me back…” The two were speechless. Could it have been that scruffy old Taoist? Gordon Brooks frowned at the thought of that greasy, stained robe—its color indiscernible—pressed against his own clothes.

Meanwhile, Julian Reed had already jumped up: “Come on, let’s go out and have a look. If we don’t work for a day, we’ll probably get punished.” Gordon Brooks also thought this was bad news. The two quickly washed up and went to find Senior Brother Weiming. Although their senior brother took good care of everyone, he was also strict when it came to punishing rule-breakers. Julian Reed had been punished often and remembered it well.

The two of them arrived outside Senior Brother Weiming’s door. He was the only inner disciple who lived with the servants, which was directly related to his sealed meridians and inability to advance his cultivation. Clearly, the Wuwei Sword Sect had already given up on him, not expecting any achievements—just that he could manage the servants well.

“Senior brother!” Julian Reed called from outside. Wesley Benson replied from within, “Come in.” The two entered. Today, Senior Brother Weiming’s expression was a bit off, making them uneasy, unsure what punishment awaited. “Sit down,” Wesley Benson said, showing no intention of punishing them. The two were surprised, exchanging glances and not daring to sit. “Sit. In the future, it may not be so easy for us to meet again,” Wesley Benson said with a hint of sadness.

“Senior brother!” Julian Reed dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down his face: “Senior brother, please give us another chance! I promise we’ll never make the same mistake again, never slack off again. Please don’t send us down the mountain! Please speak to the uncles for us, let us off this once!” Gordon Brooks was stunned—could they really be expelled from the sect just for getting drunk this once?

Wesley Benson forced a smile: “Alright, get up. Who said you’re being expelled from the sect?” Julian Reed was stunned: “Then… what do you mean? You said it won’t be easy to meet again…” Wesley Benson sighed: “The uncles have already given the order. Tomorrow, the mountain gate will reopen. You two, along with Trevor Harris, are about to become inner disciples. Tomorrow is the day you formally become disciples and receive instruction. After that, it will be harder for us to meet…”

Julian Reed didn’t even wait for him to finish before bursting with joy: “Hahaha! The day has finally come! I can learn immortal arts now! Heaven, turning stone into gold—one day I’ll master it…” Although Wesley Benson had joined early, due to his sealed meridians, his cultivation had never advanced, making him the weakest among the Wuwei Sword Sect’s inner disciples. Despite his tireless efforts, he made no progress. Other disciples avoided him, and during his time managing the servants, his uprightness had offended some of the later inner disciples. His situation was much like Trevor Harris’s. These disciples often made things difficult for him in secret, so even when he went to the mountaintop every morning to practice breathing in the purple energy, he kept his distance from the others to avoid trouble. That’s why he said it would be hard to meet again.

Julian Reed’s excitement stood in stark contrast to Wesley Benson’s sorrow. Every time he sent off a few servants, Wesley Benson would feel a pang of emotion. Though he had always been steadfast and never gave up, seeing his former subordinates become official disciples, mastering superior immortal arts, and surpassing him in cultivation, he couldn’t help but feel a trace of resentment at fate’s unfairness.

Gordon Brooks noticed Wesley Benson’s expression. He walked over, took Wesley Benson’s hand, and said, “Don’t worry. One day, you’ll become a sword immortal and roam the world!” Wesley Benson forced a smile: “Go back and get ready. After morning class tomorrow, the mountain gate opening ceremony will begin.”

That night, Julian Reed was so excited he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He kicked Gordon Brooks’s bed: “Hey, Gordon Brooks, are you asleep?” Gordon Brooks didn’t respond. With both hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling and started talking to himself: “This is great. I’m finally an official disciple. You don’t know, but after learning immortal arts, immortals have a magical technique—just a touch on a stone, and it turns to gold! Haha, when I learn that, I’ll make a pile of gold to take home. I bet my father’s face will be priceless. He’s always preaching that cultivating immortality is useless. This time, I’ll show him—with just the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, I can make more gold than he could earn in a lifetime!” Hearing the snores from the next bed, Julian Reed, still excited, suddenly felt deflated. He called Gordon Brooks’s name a couple more times, but got no response, so he had to roll over and try to sleep.