Chapter 20: Paranoia, Protocols, and Packing for Cultivators

It was still early morning when Shen Liang sat cross-legged in the clan’s inner courtyard, not meditating (he’d given up on that), but thinking.

Very hard.

Like a man about to be dragged into a high-profile meeting where embarrassment, assassination, or both were very real possibilities.

“Elder Zhang,” he said slowly, “do we… have any security protocols for travel?”

Elder Zhang, bless his ever-patient soul, blinked like Shen Liang had just asked whether rocks could read.

“Protocols…?” the old man echoed.

“Yes. You know. Scouting routes. Poison checks. Contingency plans in case someone tries to kill me because I exist.”

“…Traditionally, the Patriarch does not leave the clan grounds. So, no.”

“Marvelous,” Shen Liang said flatly. “So if someone throws a talisman bomb at me on the road, I just do a backflip and hope for the best?”

“We can… assign more guards?” Elder Zhang offered weakly.

Step 1: Requisition Madness

By noon, Shen Liang had:

• Demanded an inventory of every usable talisman, artifact, charm, anti-beast flute, and edible ration in the clan.
  
  
• Personally inspected half of them before giving up and pretending he understood how any of it worked.
  
  
• Tried to ride a spirit hawk for faster travel, only to get pecked so hard he nearly ascended from pain.
  
  

“No flying beasts,” he declared afterward. “We walk. At least the ground doesn’t bite.”

Zhao Fen, now part of his traveling group, raised a brow. “Patriarch, are we not heading to a major sect summit? On foot?”

“Yes,” he said. “It builds character.”

“And blisters,” Shen Qing added dryly.

Step 2: Briefing the Squad

Inside the meeting hall, Shen Liang stood before the five people he was dragging along:

• Shen Yue: talented, reliable, and unfortunately aware of it.
  
  
• Shen Rong: quiet, obedient, possibly a genius or possibly asleep with her eyes open.
  
  
• Zhao Fen: blunt, sharp-tongued, and the only one who knew what poison ivy looked like.
  
  
• Shen Qing: the sole male in the team, sturdy, loyal, and just competent enough to make Shen Liang nervous.
  
  
• Shen Mei: technically not a disciple, but disguised as one. No one questioned it. Mostly because they were too scared to.
  
  

“We leave in two days,” Shen Liang began, hands behind his back like he’d seen real leaders do. “So I’ve prepared safety protocols.”

They blinked.

“…What kind of protocols?” Shen Yue asked carefully.

Shen Liang pulled out a hand-drawn scroll. “Plan A: if we’re attacked by beasts, we form a V formation and throw Shen Qing at the biggest one.”

“…Why me?”

“You look durable.”

“What’s Plan B?” Shen Mei asked, squinting at the scroll.

“Run.”

Step 3: Shen Liang’s Paranoia Prep List

Later that evening, he compiled his checklist.

Things to Prepare Before Departure:

• Charms against poison.
  
  
• Talisman for emergency teleportation (doesn’t work if wet or sarcastic).
  
  
• Secret code phrases:
  
  
• “The rabbit hops east” = we’re being watched.
  
  
• “Grandpa’s cooking smells funny” = enemy spotted.
  
  
• “Where are my pants” = retreat immediately.
  
  
• Fake identity scrolls just in case.
  
  
• 3 bottles of something labeled “Grandpa’s Tonic (Don’t Drink).”
  
  
• Bribery pouch with mid-grade spirit stones.
  
  

“Zhao Fen!” he yelled from his room.

She appeared like a ghost with better posture. “Yes, Patriarch?”

“Should we bring medicine pills?”

“Do you even have a pill pouch?”

“I have a sock.”

“…I’ll handle the medicine.”

The Final Night

He couldn’t sleep.

Not because he was afraid.

No.

Because someone had slipped Grandpa Wuji’s old travel journal under his door.

The first line?

“Rule one: if you get ambushed, kill first. Ask questions only if someone’s still breathing.”

“…Great,” Shen Liang muttered. “The man treated road trips like war campaigns.”

Next to it, a pressed flower fell from the journal. Delicate. Untouched.

The note attached?

“Don’t worry, brat. Just use that overthinking head of yours. I didn’t make you Patriarch for decoration.”

— Wuji.

Shen Liang stared at the ceiling.

“…Alright. Let’s not die at the summit.”

End of Chapter 20