Chapter 55: Sect Merger and Acquisition, Signing the Contract!

“Sect Master! We can’t hold on any longer! The last batch of Spirit Grains in the warehouse was looted last night by those starving Chores Courtyard disciples!”

“Sect Master! Something terrible has happened! Protector Zhang… Protector Zhang, last night, he took his thirty-odd men, packed up their weapons, and defected to that so-called Ascension Group!”

“Sect Master! The shops our Heishan Sect owns in the market down the mountain were all smashed! Those rogue cultivators and miners are demanding their blood and sweat money back, saying we’re a black-hearted sect!”

Inside the Main Hall of Heishan Sect, Zhao Wuji slumped upon the throne that symbolized authority, his face ashen and lifeless like a corpse.

One after another, bad news stabbed into him like knives, shredding his last bit of hope and dignity into pieces.

Three days.

Just three damn days.

The Heishan Sect he had painstakingly built from scratch—this colossal force that once dominated hundreds of miles around—had just… collapsed.

Completely and utterly, crumbled to dust.

The ores could not be sold, piled up in the warehouses like worthless rocks.

Ninety percent of the disciples had run away; those who remained were either old, weak, sick, or the fence-sitters waiting to watch his downfall.

All sources of income—cut off clean.

All loyalty—scattered to nothing.

He couldn’t figure it out.

Even if he cracked his skull open thinking, he still couldn’t understand how things had ended up like this.

He had never once clashed blades with Chu Feng’s people, never once had conflict with the cultivators of the Ascension Group.

The other side hadn’t even lifted a single finger against him.

And yet, he had lost.

Lost utterly, miserably—without even the chance to struggle.

Only now did he finally taste the bitter truth—Chu Feng’s way of killing without spilling blood was ten thousand times crueler than open combat!

That wasn’t even fighting. That thing… was from another world altogether—a rule, a “Heaven’s Dao” he could neither comprehend nor resist.

“Heh… hehehehe…”

A few dry laughs squeezed out from Zhao Wuji’s throat—harsher to the ear than sobs.

“I was wrong… I was truly wrong…”

He mumbled over and over again, his entire being seeming to have been drained of essence and spirit, aging more than ten years in an instant.

At that moment, a disciple tumbled in, crawling on all fours, voice trembling uncontrollably.

“S-Sect Master… Qingyun Sect… Qingyun Sect’s Chu Feng sent… sent a letter!”

Chu Feng?

The moment that name entered his ears, Zhao Wuji’s body twitched violently, as if struck by lightning.

He extended a hand—shaking like a withered leaf in autumn—and took the letter.

There was no name on the envelope, only a strange arrow pointing upward, drawn in a peculiar design.

He tore it open.

There weren’t many words on the letter, yet each one was like a burning blade stabbing straight into his heart.

“Master Zhao: It’s been three days. Now, you have two paths to choose from.”

“One — cling to that useless pride of yours, and watch Heishan Sect rot into a pile of mud. As for you, you’ll be buried under mountains of debt, hunted to the ends of the earth by the crazed miners and creditors, and in the end, die in some stinking ditch.”

“Two — come to Qingyun Sect yourself, and let’s discuss the matter of ‘Heishan Sect Asset Restructuring and Merger’. I can give you a way to survive—perhaps even let you live like a real person again.”

“The choice is yours. —— Ascension Group, Chu Feng.”

The letter slipped lightly from Zhao Wuji’s trembling hand.

He could no longer support himself—completely collapsing into the throne.

Merger and acquisition…

He pondered the meaning of that term.

That devil, Chu Feng, wasn’t merely out to win—he was going to swallow every last scrap of his remaining wealth, bones and all!

Humiliation?

Nonsense, of course it was humiliation!

But damn it, did he even have a choice?

He lifted his eyes, looking at those faces outside the grand hall — some despairing, some furious — while the air rang with chaotic cries and curses. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

For a long time.

His throat was dry to the point of burning, and he forced out a few hoarse words.

“Prepare… prepare the carriage…”

“To Qingyun Sect.”

……

Half a day later.

Qingyun Sect, Headquarters of the “Qingyun Sect Strategic Development and Model Innovation Research Association.”

It was still the same courtyard, still the same long table.

Chu Feng sat firmly at the main seat, sipping tea leisurely.

Across from him sat Zhao Wuji, his whole figure slack and lifeless, like a plague-stricken chicken that had just lost a fight.

Between them lay a thick “contract” spread open on the table.

At the top of the contract was a bold line of characters: 【Agreement on the Full Acquisition of Heishan Sect and Its Subsidiaries by the Qingyun Sect Strategic Development and Model Innovation Research Association】.

“Sect Master Zhao, have you read the terms clearly?”

Chu Feng set down his teacup and asked with a smiling tone.

Zhao Wuji said nothing — he only nodded woodenly.

What else could he say?

This so-called agreement, to put it bluntly, was nothing but a deed of sale.

It clearly stated that Heishan Sect would be immediately dissolved. All its lands, mines, houses, and equipment — without compensation — would be transferred entirely to the “Research Association.”

All of Heishan Sect’s debts would be taken over by the “Research Association.”

As for him, Zhao Wuji — from today onward, he was no longer any so-called Sect Master.

His new identity was “Regional Director of the Heishan Mining Area Resource Extraction and Transportation Department under Ascension Logistics Group.”

A title that sounded impressive, but in reality, was just a glorified foreman.

He would have to manage those miners who were being rehired, digging ores for the Ascension Group.

Each month, he would receive a rather decent “salary,” and if he performed well, there would even be a “performance bonus.”

“This agreement,” Chu Feng’s voice carried a hint of persuasive charm, “is the best outcome for you and your disciples.”

“You no longer need to worry about your ores not selling, nor fear your enemies coming for revenge. You will become part of our great collective — with stable income and a bright future.”

“You, too, will transform from a ‘small boss’ who doesn’t even know if he’ll survive tomorrow, into a ‘senior professional manager’ guaranteed to thrive no matter the season. Isn’t that a blessing straight from the heavens?”

The muscles on Zhao Wuji’s face twitched repeatedly.

He knew perfectly well — every single word Chu Feng spoke was like a knife thrust straight into his heart.

Yet, he couldn’t refute a single one.

Because he truly… had no choice left.

He picked up the pen on the table — a pen so heavy he could barely hold it steady.

One stroke at a time, he signed his name at the bottom of the contract.

When the final stroke fell,

he seemed to hear something inside him crack — and shatter.

Just like that, a Sect was gone.

Not far away, on a nearby pavilion, Murong Xue — dressed in white — watched everything in the courtyard unfold, clearly and silently.

Her expression was complicated, long devoid of the contempt and anger she had once felt.

In their place was a mix of indescribable shock and a faint… unrecognized confusion.

She simply watched that young man — as he laughed and talked, he devoured an entire Sect without spilling a single drop of blood.

For the first time, she began to waver.

The path Chu Feng walked, the so-called “new order” he sought to establish…

Was it truly wrong?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep