Chapter Fifty-Eight: Master of Time Management

Led by Wang Ye, the three of them left the restaurant, following the path along the front mountain. They threaded their way through the bustling crowds, passing the Sanxing Hall and the Private Disciples’ Gate, and finally stopped before the small plaza in front of the True Man’s Monument.

“There, that’s the Grandmaster.”

Wang Ye raised his hand, pointing toward the monument, where a collection of recording equipment—cameras and microphones—was aimed at the center, focusing on two Daoist priests, one old and one young, surrounded by a crowd.

Though there were plenty of people around, Ye Yan immediately spotted Xu Si in the throng—a mischievous look on his face as he read palms for several heavily made-up young ladies in short skirts.

Goodness, was this really a pilgrimage to pay respects? It looked more like he’d fallen into a den of temptresses.

Ye Yan was left utterly speechless.

…

“Grandmaster, please, a smile for the camera.”

“Yay!”

In front of the lens, the centenarian Grandmaster Zhang Zhiwei flashed a practiced peace sign, grinning like a child over a hundred years old.

“So that’s the Grandmaster?” Zhang Chulan, witnessing the scene for the first time, was momentarily stunned. It really was just as Ye Yan had said—those peace signs alone made him seem quite down-to-earth.

Wang Ye chuckled, “Must be some official inspection again. The Grandmaster has it tough.”

Seeing that the Grandmaster was busy, the three didn’t hurry over. Instead, they observed from a distance, approaching only when the interview was over.

Their approach was from behind the Grandmaster, and with the noise of the crowd, he didn’t immediately notice them as he was bidding farewell to the film crew.

Only when Wang Ye called out did the Grandmaster slowly turn around. By then, Wang Ye had already cupped his fists in greeting. “Wang Ye of Wudang pays his respects to the Grandmaster.”

The Grandmaster’s tone was steady, and his kindly smile gave one the sense of a spring breeze. “Ah, Wang Ye. How is your master’s health these days?”

Far from the image of a supreme authority in the world of the Unorthodox, Grandmaster Zhang Zhiwei seemed more like a gentle, kindly elder from the neighborhood—approachable in every way.

It was easy to feel a desire to draw near to him.

“My master is in excellent health.” Wang Ye’s salute as a junior was both earnest and respectful. “Grandmaster, look whom I’ve brought to see you.”

The Grandmaster’s gaze drifted over Ye Yan and Zhang Chulan. His expression shifted subtly as his eyes passed over Ye Yan, but finally settled on Zhang Chulan. He asked softly,

“Is that Chulan?”

“I…” Zhang Chulan himself hadn’t expected the illustrious Grandmaster to call his name so familiarly. For a moment, he was at a loss.

He took a step forward, about to speak, but the Grandmaster interrupted him.

The Grandmaster beamed, “Call me Grandmaster. Since your grandfather passed on both the Golden Light Mantra and Thunder Technique to you, you’re more than entitled to call me that.”

Looking at the Grandmaster’s benevolent countenance, Zhang Chulan was inexplicably moved—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Grand… Grandmaster!”

At Zhang Chulan’s words, the Grandmaster burst into hearty laughter. Then, turning to Zhang Lingyu at his side, he said,

“Lingyu, go and receive the other guests. I want to have a word with Chulan.”

“As you command, Master.”

Even the usually proud Zhang Lingyu became docile before the Grandmaster. After bowing, he turned to leave, but not before casting a complex glance at Ye Yan.

With Zhang Lingyu gone, the Grandmaster led Zhang Chulan back to the Celestial Master’s residence for a private conversation.

At some point, Xu Si—who had been lost among the beauties—had extricated himself and sidled up to Ye Yan. Watching Zhang Chulan and the Grandmaster walk away together, he clicked his tongue and remarked,

“A private audience with the Grandmaster—Zhang Chulan’s really got some pull.”

“Hmph…” Ye Yan shot him a look of disdain. “At least he’s more reliable than certain people who can’t keep their mind on business.”

Xu Si wasn’t bothered in the least by Ye Yan’s mockery. Defensively, he replied, “Hey now, that’s not being unreliable. It’s just excellent time management. The Grandmaster was busy—if I’d gone over then, I’d only have been a nuisance.”

Is that so… You really are a master of time management. Ye Yan gave him a look of exasperation.

Expecting Xu Si to feel shame was like expecting Zhang Chulan to be more scandalous than he already was—a lost cause.

“Let me introduce you. This is Daoist Wang Ye of Wudang. And this is Xu Si, current head of the North China District—my direct superior.”

Ye Yan took the opportunity to make introductions.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Daoist Wang.”

Neither showed much interest in the other; their greetings were merely polite formalities.

Xu Si, chewing on a blade of grass he’d picked up somewhere, asked Ye Yan,

“So, you’ve met the Grandmaster. Based on your current strength, if you went up against him, what do you think your chances are?”

Ever since the battle with Ding An, Ye Yan had become recognized as the third greatest power in the circle, while the Grandmaster stood at the very pinnacle. Xu Si was intensely curious about the true gap between a top master and a hero.

“My chances?”

Ye Yan was nearly amused by the question.

He couldn’t recall all the plot details anymore, but the key points remained clear—one of which was the Grandmaster’s supreme, terrifying power.

If the Grandmaster was in good spirits, the story was “The Outcast.” If he was in a bad mood, well, the story would have to be renamed “The Subjugated.”

Who could possibly withstand that?

“Hard to estimate?” Seeing Ye Yan fall silent, Xu Si assumed he was uncertain.

But Ye Yan shook his head and asked, “You really want to know the gap between me and the Grandmaster?”

“Of course,” Xu Si replied without hesitation.

Ye Yan thought for a moment and said, “If I were to fight the Grandmaster now, my chances of winning would be zero.”

“Zero? Seriously?”

Xu Si was taken aback. He hadn’t expected Ye Yan to give such an answer.

He was well aware of Ye Yan’s strength. There were very few in the circle who could rival him or even stand as equals.

And yet, Ye Yan still considered the match-up with the Grandmaster a ten-to-zero split.

A zero percent chance meant instant defeat.

The more he thought about it, the more terrifying it seemed.

“Is the Grandmaster really that strong?” Xu Si asked, skeptical.

He knew of his legendary reputation, but not much about his actual strength—the Grandmaster hadn’t fought publicly in years.

“Of course. His power is simply outrageous,” Ye Yan replied with certainty.

He felt no burden in admitting this: if you can win, you win; if not, you don’t. There was no point in hiding it.

Losing to the Grandmaster was nothing to be ashamed of.

But after a moment’s thought, Ye Yan added, “Of course, if I can reach the next level, my chances might improve—just a little.”