5 How to Properly Handle Pointy Objects
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"Stop! Stop!" Wu Mei shouted at her stupid disciples.

They slowly lowered the swords that they were using to train with, giving each other uncertain looks. Evidently, they did not understand why she was so mad at them.

Wu Mei's utterly average face was scrunched up in irritation, her eyes flashing with annoyance and she was two seconds away from just killing them all and being done with it. When she had conspired with the other Peak Lords in order to get Sect Leader to accept new disciples, she hadn't factored in that she would have to teach them.

They were all brats. Ungrateful, uncultured brats that spoke when they weren't supposed to and made a mess of the kitchen any time they were on kitchen duty. None of them had any respect for her, because she was a woman and she wasn't unrealistically gorgeous like female cultivators were supposed to be. Otherwise, they apparently weren't worth a second glance.

Wu Mei was over two hundred years old, a Peak Lord, and yet, nobody had yet to ask her for her hand in marriage!

That wasn't to say that she wanted to get married, men were all stupid pigs that weren't worth her time, but she would like to be asked. It was only right, that someone would ask, considering that she was one of the most successful female cultivators of all time.

No, scratch that, she was the second most successful one.

The only one better than her was Qiu YanYu, the only female cultivator to ever ascend to immortality entirely on her own merits. But even she was supposedly a peerless beauty.

Her line of thinking had only made her more irritated and when Wu Mei barked out, "Drop the swords!" it was with an even more furious face.

Song YongNian, one of her new disciples, frowned and asked, "Why? What's wrong?"

Wu Mei pointed to her personal succeeding disciple. "Fan GuiRen! Tell them what's wrong!"

Fan GuiRen smiled sadistically, his eyes shining red when hit by the strong sunlight. "You have no respect for your swords and the damage they can cause. You are not cautious when using them and practicing."

"Good, good." Wu Mei nodded in satisfaction.

Her eyes swept over the group of seven new disciples standing in front of her on the training grounds, because she had lost a bet with the other Peak Lords and would now be responsible for their sword practice for the next month. Right now, they were missing only one disciple, as he was away on Sect Leader's personal training regime, and was learning how to farm.

That gave her an idea. If there was anyone who was always cautious when using their sword, it was Sect Leader.

"Fan GuiRen," she barked out harshly, her rough voice carrying easily over the distance between them. "Fetch Sect Leader, would you? I'm sure he has a thing or two he can teach these imbeciles."

Fan GuiRen moved so fast that he was almost a blur.

A couple of minutes later, he returned with Sect Leader Jin ZiXin.

Jin ZiXin, who had undoubtedly had his work interrupted, looked frosty and cold, his eyes like frozen pools of dark water. His lips were twisted into a frown, and he looked around in a way that clearly displayed his desire to be anywhere but here.

Wu Mei stalked over to him and said, "I need you to teach these disciples the importance of sword safety."

Jin ZiXin's face got serious and he abruptly turned his gaze toward the group of disciples who were all trying to get a look at him.

"Just this once." he said, his voice just as cold as his expression.

Wu Mei nodded in understanding and said, "Thank you for your assistance, Sect Leader."

"First off-" Jin ZiXin began his lesson and brought out his sword. "You must never point your sword toward yourself. If you do this, you run the risk of stabbing yourself, which can lead to *bleep* and *bleep* and in turn cause your *bleep* to *bleep*. You must always be diligent in cleaning your sword as even a tiny wound of a bacteria infested sword is enough to lead to *bleep*, *bleep* and *bleep*. And you must never—"

What followed was a two hour long lecture, during which Jin ZiXin outlined every single thing a sword injury could lead to, in all its detailed, disgusting glory. By the time that he finally stopped talking, the disciples were shaking, their faces pale and some of them were even vomiting.

It was easy to see that they were all scared senseless.

Song YongNian was looking at his sword as if it was a monster. Wen ZiHao had already dropped his and backed away from it, looking one second away from just plain running.

Cheng Ai — the stereotypical female disciple who Wu Mei hated on principle — was pale as if she was going to faint. Seriously, how could she be a cultivator and that weak at the same time? Wu Mei had no idea how she wasn't dead yet.

She couldn't wait for it to be her time at the farm.

Wu Mei's eyes swept over all of the disciples and once she judged that they were all appropriately frightened, she nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned back toward Jin ZiXin in time to see Fan GuiRen staring at him with a soppy smile on his face.

It was enough to give her nightmares.

Why was it that the disciple who could the kindest be described as an inhuman monster, fell in love with a person like Sect Leader Jin ZiXin?

And why did she have to be around to witness it?

Dear god, all of this mushiness made her want to stab herself so she could escape to the infirmary and not have to be around for this cluster-fuck of emotional ineptitude. She resisted her urge to gag through an impressive amount of self-discipline and nodded to the Sect Leader.

"Thank you for your assistance."

She was polite, as just because he was a dumbass didn't mean that he wasn't still her Sect Leader, and she respected that.

For now.

Jin ZiXin nodded back toward her and said, "It was nothing. Sword safety is an important subject that should not be overlooked."

At least that, they agreed on.

It was a toss-up on everything else most of the time.

Once Jin ZiXin was no longer in sight — with Fan GuiRen staring after him the entire way — Wu Mei turned back toward the disciples and frowned. She wasn't entirely sure what to do now. It was disturbingly clear that they wouldn't be able to concentrate on sword lessons, what with the looks of abject terror on all of their faces, but that was what she taught.

Her Sorrowful Grace Peak was a Peak that practiced cultivation with the sword arts, and it was what she was best at. If they weren't fit to carry a sword, she didn't really have anything to teach them.

"Fan GuiRen," she finally said, calling his attention back to the lesson at hand. "take over the lesson for me. I'm going to meditate."

With that, she abandoned all of the seven disciples to her personal succeeding disciples sadistic ways.

She felt absolutely no regret.

Fan GuiRen blinked at the image of his Shifu striding away decisively. After a moment of thought, he grinned happily at the idea of what he could make these sheep do in the name of "training". He turned his attention to the group of new disciples, a feeling of sadistic pleasure already forming in his belly at the expressions they were making.

"Well then~" he said, drawing out the last word unnecessarily. "Let's get started."

They shuddered visibly.

Fan GuiRen just grinned wider.

There were no words in existence that could accurately describe the pain that befell the new group of disciples of the Heavenly Abyss Sect for the next seven hours. Suffice to say, that by the time it finally ended, blood had been drawn, tears had flowed and vomit had been figuratively drowned in.

Those that were — somehow — still under the impression that Fan GuiRen was a kind, warmhearted senior disciple had their dreams crushed with a ruthless zeal. They would never quite be able to recover from this loss of trust.

They really shouldn't have become members of the Heavenly Abyss Sect.

When Song YongNian finally managed to climb to his feet and start stumbling in the direction of his bed, he had lost more blood than in the rest of his life combined, and was filled with a renewed sense of hatred for Fan GuiRen.

His old promise of killing him was reestablished, and he reaffirmed his ambitions. Sure, once he had wanted to become a cultivator to become immortal, but now, his goal was simply to kill Fan GuiRen.

Being immortal would likely be a byproduct of this goal, because he wasn't deluded.

He was nowhere near the level of Fan GuiRen!

No, the only way that he would actually gain the strength to kill Fan GuiRen — that demon in human flesh — would be to ascend to immortality.

All for the sake of ridding the mortal — and possibly immortal — world of a dangerous monster.

And also because he had really grown to hate the man.

It took every inch of strength that Song YongNian possessed to open the door to his room. The same room that he shared with Wen ZiHao, after their Shifu had accidentally destroyed Wen ZiHao's room training.

Grunting loudly, Song YongNian entered to find the room a complete mess. They had only come back from the farm two days ago, and were not yet used to cleaning up after themselves. After all, at the farm, they simply hadn't had anything to clean up, and at home, they both had servants who managed those things.

But here, they were each responsible for their own chores, from cleaning their clothes to taking turns cooking in the mess hall, as decreed by the Sect Leader.

Needless to say, both Song YongNian and Wen ZiHao sucked at it.

Granted, neither of them had had turns in the kitchen yet — which, obviously, Song YongNian was going to rule easily — but the other stuff? They had simply never learned them. When they had used this fact to protest the Sect Leader's orders, Sect Leader had given them all pitying looks and told them that it was mandatory.

Song YongNian, who had met a couple of cultivators during his life at his father's restaurant, knew that this was a lie. A really obvious one, too.

But the Sect Leader's words were absolute in this case, so there was nothing they could do about it.

They were ordered to learn, and so learn they would.

They were not, however, going to be happy about it.

After all, these were all at least slightly rich young masters and young mistresses, who had always been treated with respect and spoiled to dangerous degrees. They had no concept of money, and what was actually considered to be expensive, and had never even heard of budgeting. They were used to the people around them managing the household, and the idea that they themselves would have to patch up their torn clothing was simply absurd.

Again, Sect Leader had looked at them with nothing but pity when they had gathered their courage and brought up it. Then he had gathered the Peak Lords and convinced them to support his mad, outrageous training regime. Somehow.

And now here they were, one month and three days since the day they had made the mistake of becoming disciples of the Heavenly Abyss Sect.

Song YongNian couldn't help but think, if the other sects knew what really went on behind the closed doors of the Heavenly Abyss Sect, it wouldn't be nearly as well respected, or considered reputable.

If he could, he would go back in time and slap himself for ever having the idea of joining this sect in the first place.

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