Chapter 3892 — Why the Hurry?
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
The aggrieved senior brothers exchanged glances. This shameless fellow had the gall to call it a matter of official business—by that standard, Meng Zhou and the rest of them ought to be strung up one by one and thrashed bloody as a warning to others.
Twenty-four! Even Xiao Che and Qiao Hongcai could hardly believe Wei Zhao could produce so many; Meng Jueming meant to use this chance to drive Wei Zhao onto a dead-end road.
Yet Wei Zhao only smiled, unruffled. "Twenty-four? I thought Senior Brother Meng's requirements would be loftier than that. To think his vision reaches only so far—how disappointing."
"Ha? What kind of crap is this thing spouting now?" Meng Jueming and the others froze in unison, then wore looks of open mockery. This poseur Wei Zhao truly would never change; even with death staring him in the face, he could not shed his idiot's bluster.
Wei Zhao paid them no further mind. He turned and went into his cave dwelling, and when he emerged again, he carried a cultivation tray of the sort the spirit herb garden had issued in the beginning.
At what lay in the tray, Meng Jueming and his party could not help but trade looks. The tray was packed full—ten tender young seedlings arranged within it.
At the sight of those seedlings, Meng Jueming and the others were merely shocked, but the effeminate Spirit Flower Steward was utterly dumbstruck, his phoenix eyes fixed straight upon the seedlings in sheer disbelief.
"That's still only ten," Meng Jueming pressed on, unwilling to yield. "A long way to go yet!"
Yet in his heart he was thanking his lucky stars. It was a good thing he had kept his wits about him earlier and cleverly made an issue of Xiao Che and Qiao Hongcai, those two cheats—otherwise Wei Zhao's posturing would truly have succeeded today.
Secretly holding back ten seedlings and nursing them all the way to the final deadline without submitting them. Wei Zhao had surely foreseen that they would come to make trouble for him—how despicably cunning.
But however high the dao, the demon stands a foot higher. Wei Zhao's good days ended here. He could produce ten seedlings—could he suddenly produce twenty-four? Even a fool could see it was utterly impossible—unless he had cheated.
"Senior Brother Meng, when did I ever say this was all of it?" Wei Zhao gave him a look as though at an idiot, turned, and went back into the cave dwelling.
"Hmph! Let's see how long you can keep up this stubborn—" Meng Jueming's words died in his throat. He saw Wei Zhao emerge with another cultivation tray, and upon it another ten tender seedlings.
Aiya! Meng Jueming's eyes bulged. Murong Zhen and Meng Zhou and the rest all wore looks of incredulity, one question burning in every mind: how on earth was this thing doing it?
Before anyone could voice a challenge, Wei Zhao had turned back into the cave dwelling. When he came out again, he carried two trays in his hands—one holding ten seedlings, and the last holding nine.
"Thirty-nine in all. That should meet the standard Senior Brother Meng set. Shall we now hash out what happened earlier?" Wei Zhao's face abruptly turned cold. "As the managing senior brother of the new disciples, you struck at a newcomer without so much as asking right from wrong. Senior Brother Meng, tell me—what crime is that?"
Sensing the chilling killing intent in Wei Zhao's tone, even Meng Jueming could not help but shiver.
In the Threefold Pavilion, even an ordinary disciple who struck at a newcomer without cause had committed an unmitigated grave offense; and as the managing senior brother of the new disciples, knowingly breaking the law meant the crime was compounded. This was no idle threat.