The fastest bow-legged runner was already preparing to go to the Medicine Division to file a complaint.

“Wait... wait a minute...”

Everyone turned around, and the one who spoke was actually the bruised and swollen Fat Priest.

He had also heard what Henry Clark said just now. At first, he didn’t take it seriously, but the more he thought about it, the more alarmed he became.

That’s right, after all, he wasn’t from the Medicine Division. He had no official reason to be here in the first place. If this little brat accused him of stealing spiritual medicine, no one would believe it—after all, the rules of Qingyun Mountain’s Daoist sect were strict, and no one dared to openly snatch spiritual medicine. These were communal resources of the sect, strictly regulated. However, if the people from the Medicine Division really thought he was here to extort bribes, he’d be in big trouble.

It was only natural for superiors to accept gifts from subordinates, but there were boundaries that couldn’t be crossed...

Moreover, even if he explained everything clearly, the fact that he’d been beaten bloody by a ten-year-old Daoist novice, tied up like a fat pig, and sent to the Medicine Division for punishment would ruin his reputation for life.

Even the leader of his own Miscellaneous Division would feel utterly humiliated and probably come to resent him.

He absolutely couldn’t let this get out of hand!

Fat Preacher had actually caught Henry Clark hunting during work hours as a pretext to get leverage over him, thinking that Henry Clark wouldn’t dare make a scene. Who could have guessed this kid didn’t know the meaning of fear—not only did he beat him up, he even brazenly accused him of theft. Spiritual medicine was as precious as life to the sect, and this kid just yanked it out without a second thought...

This kid was too fierce, not easy to handle. There was no choice but to back down!

In an instant, Fat Preacher figured it out and hurriedly called out, “It’s a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! We were just fooling around, no need to alarm the brothers from the Medicine Division. Kid, untie me and let’s talk this over...”

Hearing Fat Preacher's words, the other Daoist novices looked at each other in astonishment, clearly surprised.

Only Henry Clark gave a cold smile—he had already guessed this would happen.

Those words he’d just said were less for David Parker and the others, and more for Fat Priest.

“Aiya, Pig Senior Brother, it’s all my fault. I didn’t know you were just playing around and went too hard on you...”

Henry Clark suddenly put on a different face, grinning as he helped Fat Preacher up and even dusted the dirt off him attentively.

“My surname is Yu, not Zhu...”

Fat Preacher sat up, a thought flashing through his mind. Although he’d taken quite a beating, he hadn’t suffered any internal injuries and could still fight...

He’d mainly been caught off guard by Henry Clark’s sneak attack earlier, which was why he hadn’t fought back. If it came to a real fight, he wasn’t sure he’d lose.

But just as this thought arose, his vision suddenly blurred, and a gleaming knife was pressed against his neck. The cold, chilling touch instantly sobered Fat Priest up a bit. Henry Clark’s round, cute-looking face leaned in close and whispered, “You fat pig, don’t push your luck. I’m not afraid of anything or anyone. If this blows up, let’s see who really suffers!”

“This little bastard is a lunatic...”

Fat Priest was startled, and any thought of fighting back vanished immediately.

“You win. This time, I admit defeat. But just you wait, we’ll see who gets the last laugh...”

“Heh, if we’re really going to see, who knows who’ll come out on top? Actually, seeing you made me realize I could become an outer sect disciple too...”

Henry Clark sneered coldly, and that look in his eyes made Fat Priest shudder.

He suddenly remembered the moment when he’d released his spiritual energy, only for Henry Clark to disperse it. His expression changed instantly.

“You’ve also cultivated spiritual energy?”

“That’s right. It wasn’t that hard, actually. I was hoping you could tell me—what exactly counts as the first level of Spirit Movement?”

Fat Priest closed his eyes in pain and said, “Forget it, forget it. How did I end up provoking a little fiend like you? Listen, once your meridians have adapted to the presence of spiritual energy and you can circulate it smoothly through your body, that’s the first level of Spirit Movement...”

“Damn!”

Henry Clark was quite surprised. He’d thought there was some special standard, but it turned out he’d reached it a month ago.

This was due to Henry Clark’s lack of experience. In fact, Daoist cultivation was difficult at the entry and later stages, but the early stages weren’t that hard. Generally, once you had spiritual energy in your body, the rest was just letting your meridians adapt to it. Reaching the first level of Spirit Movement was a natural progression, so many Daoist novices would report to the sect as soon as they’d cultivated spiritual energy.

Because he’d witnessed the terrifying strength of Daoist disciples, Henry Clark had imagined Daoist cultivation to be much more daunting than it was.

The Yin-Yang Divine Demon Mirror could appraise techniques, spiritual treasures, and others’ cultivation, but not his own. This was a source of frustration for Henry Clark.

“Bring me a basin of water so I can wash my face...”

Fat Priest said in a low voice, his eyes so swollen he could barely open them.

Only then did Henry Clark snap out of it. He quickly stood up and kicked the dazed David Parker, saying, “I’m talking to you! Don’t you have any sense? Go fetch water for Pig Senior Brother to wash his face. And you, freckle-face, stop standing there like an idiot—set out the meat, and get those jars of good wine from under David Parker’s bed. Today I’m going to drink with Pig Senior Brother...”

“My surname is Yu, not Zhu...”

Fat Priest muttered.

The group of Daoist novices seemed to come back to life at last, and woodenly went about their tasks as instructed.