That’s right.
Her good-for-nothing father, drowning in debts, who cared about nothing but drinking and gambling.
But logically, this deadbeat should still be trapped at a creditor’s place, working off his debts.
Five years ago, after Qingling Mountain exiled Wen Feng to the Outer Peak, they made their stance clear to the outside world—‘Go ahead and chase Wen Feng for his debts. Don’t worry, even if he dies, we won’t lift a finger.’
Since then, hunted by creditors, Wen Feng had been constantly on the run, until one of them finally caught him and locked him up, forcing him to forge artifacts day and night to repay his debts.
In the original story, the eldest senior brother rescued Wen Feng.
But now, due to Wen Shuangbai’s interference, the eldest senior brother didn’t even know Wen Feng’s whereabouts, so the matter was dropped.
In the blink of an eye, over half a year had passed.
Had her worthless father already paid off his debts?
Wen Shuangbai didn’t believe it. She had a feeling that his sudden appearance at this critical moment was anything but coincidental.
She was cold-hearted and felt no familial bond with Wen Feng, so this wouldn’t affect her.
As for Wen Xin, the youngest junior sister, she had been raised by the eldest senior brother since childhood. In her memories, Wen Feng only ever drank, gambled, and extorted money from the eldest senior brother, so she held little affection for him either.
But the eldest senior brother was a different story.
Back then, Wen Feng had saved him from the clutches of a demonic cultivator. He had briefly known Wen Feng before he turned rotten, so out of gratitude, he always softened toward him.
A flicker of concern crossed Wen Shuangbai’s mind. "Does my eldest senior brother know about this?"
Xie Ziyin shook his head, casually flicking his sleeve. "Relax. I just tossed a sleep-inducing incense into his room. He won’t wake up for at least three to five days."
Wen Shuangbai: "???"
Well, that didn’t seem entirely ethical.
But.
Wen Shuangbai couldn’t help but praise, "Brilliant move!"
No wonder the Star Stone called him shady—his methods were indeed underhanded.
Xie Ziyin smiled faintly, basking in silent triumph.
Qingling Academy, secluded deep in the mountains, was usually undisturbed by outsiders.
But today, for some reason, over a dozen disciples in purple robes—flames embroidered on their sleeves—lingered nearby. Hearing the commotion, they gathered, whispering among themselves.
"Qingling Academy? Is this where Qingling Mountain’s disciples are staying in our realm?"
"I recognize that man! He’s their academy’s executive elder!"
"And who’s that drunk old man reeking of alcohol?"
At the academy’s entrance, beneath a half-crimson maple tree, stood a disheveled man with a wine gourd at his waist.
The scruffy-looking man snapped at Cao Xing, "Scram! Since when do I need your permission to see my own daughter and disciple? Back when I ruled Qingzhou, you were still a snot-nosed brat at the Initial Spirit Realm. Who dares block my path now? That stingy old rooster Qian Lai, your master?"
Cao Xing stood firm at the gate, unruffled. "Elder Wen, by the sect’s rules, during the competition, no one except participating disciples, Pavilion Master Xu, and the executive elders may enter. Even the sect leader would be turned away."
The Qingling Mountain disciples knew all too well about this infamous troublemaker.
Cao Xing especially understood that letting Wen Feng in would be like inviting a wolf into the house.
Once he was in, getting him out would be a nightmare.
In short, anyone who got involved with Wen Feng was doomed.
Wen Feng shook his empty gourd, scratching restlessly, his temper flaring.
Even though his cultivation surpassed Cao Xing’s, he didn’t dare force his way in—not with Xu Jingshu inside.
That old woman, obsessed with pretending to be a young maiden while reading romance novels, was not someone to trifle with.
Nearby, the purple-robed disciples buzzed with gossip.
"Elder Wen? Daughter and disciple? Wait—that’s Wen Shuangbai’s father and Yin Xuan’s master, isn’t it?"
"Not even family or a master is allowed in? Qingling Mountain’s rules are way too strict."
"Our Flaming Violet Realm would never be this unreasonable."
"Actually, I remember others going in before…" One disciple, the same one who had ‘coincidentally’ led his peers here, suddenly raised his voice. "Elder Wen! Don’t let them fool you! They let disciples from Jade Rhinoceros Valley in just the other day!"
Wen Feng’s face darkened. "Cao Xing, you dare lie to me? A father seeing his daughter is a natural right! Are you openly defying the laws of the Nine Provinces right under the Emperor’s nose?"
"Elder Wen, please calm down." Cao Xing glanced at the Flaming Violet disciples. "How touching that even your realm’s disciples are so concerned about Qingling Mountain’s affairs. It’s true Jade Rhinoceros Valley visited earlier, but this rule was newly established—just yesterday."
"More like just now!" Wen Feng sneered. "Targeting me, huh? Fine! Then summon my daughter and disciple out here!"
Wen Feng immediately plopped down on the ground and declared, "Fine! If that’s how it is, I won’t move an inch! I’ll just sit here and wait to die! Let the world see how Qingling Mountain treats a disciple who once fought for the sect—and how my ungrateful daughter and treacherous disciple treat their own father and master!"
"Qingling Mountain is downright inhuman!"
"Who would’ve thought Wen Shuangbai and Yin Xuan were like this? For the sake of their own futures, they’d abandon their own father? Such filial impiety—how can they even participate in the Profound Heaven Competition?"
"So many people out there admire them, but they don’t know the truth. We should spread the word!"
One disciple, who had been silent until now, couldn’t hold back anymore. "This is so disappointing! Just a few days ago, I bought an alchemy furnace from their Caiyuan Pavilion!"
The other disciples turned to him in shock. "What?! You’re a disciple of the Purple Flame Realm, yet you bought an alchemy furnace made by Qingling Mountain disciples?!"
"Well… it was cheap and worked well, and my family isn’t exactly wealthy… Hey, don’t look at me like that! If I’d known they were like this, I never would’ve bought it!"
On the other side of the door, Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin stood by the wall, eavesdropping.
As she listened, Wen Shuangbai dabbed water at the corners of her eyes and shook her head.
Personally, she couldn’t care less about her reputation—she never cared how others saw her.
But when it came to business, maintaining a respectable image was somewhat necessary. After all, bad publicity could hurt profits.
After a moment’s thought, Wen Shuangbai leaned over and whispered a few instructions to Xie Ziyin. Then she strode to the door and flung it open.
The instant the door swung wide, her expression transformed—her face now a picture of shock and distress as she wailed, "Father!!!"
Xie Ziyin: "…"
Seriously? Anyone would think she was mourning a funeral.
Even Cao Xing was momentarily stunned by the sheer force of that cry.
Wen Shuangbai shoved past Cao Xing and rushed toward Wen Feng, who was still sitting on the ground. With a dramatic slide across the dirt, she dropped to her knees before him, gripping his arm tightly. A single crystalline tear rolled down her cheek as she cried, "Father!! Where have you been?! Senior Brother and I have been searching everywhere for you, but we couldn’t find you! I thought you’d abandoned us again! I was so worried! You must’ve suffered so much out there—look how thin you’ve gotten!"
Cao Xing and the elders hiding in the shadows: "…………"
Wen Feng: "…………"
The Purple Flame Realm disciples: "…………"
Wen Feng: "I—"
Wen Shuangbai cut him off, helping him up. "Father, let’s talk somewhere more comfortable."
She glanced around. "This wilderness is no place for a family reunion. And our sect’s food is terrible. How about this—I’ll take you to the finest restaurant in the Imperial Capital, the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, for a proper welcome feast!"
At the mention of "Drunken Immortal Pavilion," Wen Feng’s eyes—clouded from years of heavy drinking—flickered with interest. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Good, good. You’ve grown up and learned some manners. Where’s your senior brother?"
Wen Shuangbai smiled. "Senior Brother had an epiphany during the last match and is still in seclusion. Father, let’s just go, the two of us!"
---
Private room, fifth floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.
Wen Shuangbai ordered a table laden with dishes and a jug of the legendary Drunken Immortal Wine—renowned across the Profound Heaven Continent for its potency. Even immortals were said to fall drunk from a single sip.
She poured Wen Feng a full cup. "Father, try this."
Wen Feng lifted the cup, reminiscing. "Back when I came to the Imperial Capital for the Profound Heaven Competition, I drank this very wine. So many years have passed…" He took a sip. "The taste hasn’t changed. Truly fine wine…"
"Then drink as much as you like—no need to hold back." Wen Shuangbai smiled. Then, as if struck by a thought, she added, "Oh, Father, you mentioned being trapped in that old demon’s dungeon. How did you escape?"
The middle-aged man’s expression faltered. His eyes darted away guiltily as he brushed off the question. "A friend happened by and helped me out."
"Which friend?" Wen Shuangbai pressed, her face full of earnest gratitude. "Tell me, Father. I’d like to thank them properly."
"No need. This isn’t your concern." Wen Feng waved her off with an air of paternal authority, then studied her closely. "You’ve done well for yourself, I hear. On my way here, I caught wind of your and your senior brother’s exploits. Top rankings in the competition, and that Caiyuan Pavilion of yours—must be raking in the money, huh?"
After all, she could afford to treat him to a private room on the fifth floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. This single meal cost at least ten thousand spirit stones, and the wine alone was five thousand per jug.
"Just getting by," Wen Shuangbai said modestly. Then, as if remembering something, her smile faded into disapproval. "Father, you really shouldn’t pick fights with Elder Cao in the future."
Wen Feng’s face darkened with rage. "What did you just say?"
"Dad, don’t be angry yet. You know Qingling Mountain has never treated our family well—otherwise, they wouldn’t have banished us to Outer Peak back then." Wen Shuangbai spoke with a mix of truth and deception. "I’ve spent so much effort mending relationships just to participate in this competition. Please don’t ruin it for me."
"Family shouldn’t speak in circles, so I’ll be blunt with you. The sect still doesn’t welcome you, so stop going to Qingling Academy from now on," Wen Shuangbai continued. "I want to focus on the competition, win some sacred stones to exchange for money, and properly take care of you! Besides, maintaining good ties with the sect means my Caiyuan Tower can thrive, and our lives will only get better. Doesn’t that make sense?"
Wen Feng didn’t deny it.
Wen Shuangbai glanced around, then stood up with exaggerated secrecy. She first locked the door, shut the windows tightly, and only then returned to her seat, lowering her voice. "Oh, Dad, there’s one more secret I have to tell you—but you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone."
Wen Feng frowned. "What is it?"
Wen Shuangbai whispered even softer, "Caiyuan Tower’s business is doing well, but we haven’t broken even yet. To build it, I borrowed three million from the sect on credit and took out a loan of five million from the Qingzhou Bank…"
After all, Qingling Mountain’s financial support this year was unprecedented, and very few knew about it. There was no way Wen Feng would find out, so she could spin the story however she pleased.
"What?!" Wen Feng choked, coughing until his face turned red. "Eight million?!"
"Shh, shh, shh!" Wen Shuangbai hastily pressed a finger to her lips. "Dad, keep your voice down! This isn’t something to spread around."
"You unfilial brat! How could you dare?!" Eight million—that was an astronomical sum!
Wen Shuangbai blinked innocently. "Didn’t you always say, ‘A little debt is nothing—making money grow is what matters’?"
Those were the exact words Wen Feng had once used to brush off his eldest disciple’s warnings when he took money for gambling…
Now, Wen Feng was speechless, trapped by his own past words.
He stared at his daughter, thinking this troublemaker was truly born to collect debts.
He knew she’d borrowed before—for pretty clothes and such. But now? Eight million in one go. She was even bolder than him.
"Look, Caiyuan Tower’s business is booming. Once I rank well in the competition, its reputation will soar, and we’ll recoup the costs in no time," Wen Shuangbai said, painting a rosy future. "I may be broke now, but it’s just the darkness before dawn. After the competition, wealth will pour in like a flood! All you’ll have to do is sit back and enjoy your retirement!"
Wen Feng fell into thought, silently sipping his wine.
Well…
He was an artificer too, and he’d seen the quality of Caiyuan Tower’s artifacts.
Deep down, Wen Feng truly believed his daughter’s venture had extraordinary potential.
Admittedly, this boldness of hers? She got it from him—daring, strategic, willing to gamble big.
Once his daughter and disciples struck it rich, how could they dare not support him? Blood was thicker than water, and debts of gratitude ran deep.
Father and daughter drank—Wen Feng gulping large cups while Wen Shuangbai took delicate sips, her sweet words coaxing her cheap father into high spirits.
After several rounds (though Wen Shuangbai had barely drunk), she swayed to her feet, slurring at Wen Feng, who was slumped over the table hiccupping from excess wine. "Th-this Drunken Immortal Pavilion—what’s their problem?! Drunken Immortal Goose, Drunken Immortal Chicken, Drunken Immortal Duck—taking forever! D-Don’t they know my dad needs them for his wine? Outrageous! Dad, w-wait here… I’ll go… scold them!"
She staggered out the door, wobbling downstairs.
Then—one quarter-hour passed. Half an hour. A full hour… She never returned.
As the alcohol haze faded, Wen Feng grew suspicious. He hurried downstairs and asked a waiter, "Where’s my daughter?"
The waiter smiled politely. "Ah, sir, your daughter said she had urgent sect business. She took the Drunken Immortal Trio and nine bottles of Drunken Immortal Reserve wine and left."
Wen Feng swayed on his feet.
"Careful, sir!" The waiter steadied him, then added helpfully, "By the way, would you like to settle the bill now? We’re about to close."
Wen Feng gritted his teeth so hard they nearly cracked. "That unfilial brat didn’t… pay?!"
"Nope," the waiter said cheerfully. "She said you had money and would handle it."
