I Become Sect master In Another World

The afternoon light hung suspended over the cobblestones of 22nd Street, amber and still.

Inside the threshold of the Lingwood Herbal Pavilion, the air remained thick with the bitter, comforting scent of crushed lotus and dried roots. The quiet that settled across the room was dense, unbroken by the distant clatter of carriage wheels outside or the soft rustle of the paper wrappers resting on the rosewood counter.

Meng Jia stood three paces away.

Her hands rested flat against the dark wood of the counter, her slender fingers slightly tensed. The professional composure she maintained every morning—the calm, unhurried air of a merchant’s assistant accustomed to difficult customers—had vanished completely.

Her dark eyes were wide, fixed entirely on the youth standing before her.

Lee Bie remained planted in the center of the floorboards.

The navy spirit-silk of his new robe hung immaculately across his shoulders, the silver-bordered lapels catching the warm sunlight pouring through the paper-screen entrance. But the cool, dominating posture he had held while sending the Golden Vein Caretaker flying through a fruit cart was gone.

His spine was rigid. His arms hung stiffly at his sides, his right hand still crushed into a tight fist around the crumpled parchment Shaurya’s five million gold coins hadn’t prepared him to forget.

A deep, burning crimson had rushed up his neck, saturating his cheeks and painting the very tips of his ears in a blazing red.

Meng Jia’s lips parted. She blinked once, twice, as if trying to process the heavy, echoing declaration that still seemed to vibrate off the timber rafters of the shop.

"I..." Meng Jia’s voice came out lower than usual, a subtle waver breaking her smooth tone. Her cheeks flushed with a delicate, rosy warmth that spread rapidly to her temples. "What... what do you mean by... ’you are mine’?"

The question hung in the quiet shop like an unsheathed blade.

Lee Bie’s heart slammed against his ribs with such violence he was certain she could hear it. He squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, internally screaming at his own tongue, before forcing his gaze back to her face.

"I... that is... I phrased that terribly!" Lee Bie blurted out, his words tumbling over one another in a frantic, desperate rush. He raised both hands, waving them wildly in the air before catching himself and dropping them back to his sides. "I didn’t mean it like an order! I swear! Everything... everything I did today... the suit, the paper, coming here, beating up those idiots... it was all to propose to you!"

Meng Jia’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers twitched against the wood. "Propose...?"

"Yes!" Lee Bie took a half-step forward, the embarrassment burning his face completely forgotten as his chest heaved. The words poured out of him now, stripped of all the flowery classical poetry Zong Bu had written, raw and entirely his own. "Two months ago... when our sect was passing through the capital market... I saw you standing outside this shop, sorting spirit-lotus leaves in the rain. I didn’t know your name. I didn’t know who you were. But I couldn’t forget you."

He took another step, his gaze locking onto hers with absolute, terrifying sincerity.

"Everything I’ve done since then... every mission, every morning drill, every time I practiced my footwork... I thought of you. I came here today because I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I just... I wanted you to know how I felt."

Meng Jia stared at him, her dark eyes reflecting the sunlight filtering through the window. The flustered surprise on her face slowly gave way to a quiet, profound confusion.

She looked at the rich navy spirit-silk draped over his shoulders. She looked at the dark-red spatial pouch resting at his belt, heavy with enough gold to buy the street twice over. She looked at the absolute, terrifying strength he had displayed when he shattered a Golden Vein expert’s dantian with a single finger.

"Why me...?" Meng Jia asked softly, her voice barely louder than the rustle of the wind outside. She looked down at her own plain, fitted work sleeves. "You are a core disciple of the Sanatan Flame Sect. You are powerful. You carry riches beyond what a merchant’s assistant could see in three lifetimes. I am only at the Second Level of Foundation Building. My talent is ordinary. My background is nothing. In your sect... in the capital... you could find someone far better than me."

The flustered, crimson panic on Lee Bie’s face vanished.

It didn’t fade slowly; it dissolved instantly, replaced by a quiet, unyielding stillness that seemed to settle over his entire frame.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t look down at his paper.

"Yes," Lee Bie said, his voice dropping into a low, steady rhythm that held not a single trace of doubt. "You’re probably right. If I looked across the continent, I could probably find girls who are richer, girls with higher cultivation, or girls with grander backgrounds."

He took the final step, stopping right before the rosewood counter, looking directly into her wide, trembling eyes.

"But I don’t want someone better," Lee Bie said quietly, every word landing with absolute, undeniable weight. "I just want you."

Meng Jia’s breath hitched completely.

The rosy tint on her cheeks exploded into a deep, radiant crimson that swept over her entire face. She froze, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden counter so hard her knuckles turned white, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as those six words echoed in her mind.

Up on the roof, behind the clay chimney...

Muo Qian and Su Quan pressed their hands over their mouths simultaneously, their dark eyes sparkling with absolute, girlish delight as they let out synchronized, silent squeals.

"Oh my god..." Muo Qian whispered, her shoulders shaking as she grabbed Su Quan’s sleeve. "Did he really just say that?!"

"He’s a genius," Su Quan murmured back, her face flushed with excitement. "He completely wiped out her defenses!"

Directly beside them, the Single Mingle Gang sat in absolute, dumbfounded horror.

Sheng Lu stared through the gap in the eaves, his jaw hanging so low it nearly touched his knees. "I... I didn’t write anything like that on the paper..."

Zong Bu pulled off his official headband, vigorously rubbing his eyes with his sleeve before pressing them back against the tiles to look again. "Is that really Lee Bie? Did someone swap his soul during the mission?"

Xiao Rui stared down at the navy-clad youth below, his mouth slightly open in pure, unadulterated awe. "When the hell did he get this romantic...? Has he been taking private aura-farming and flirting lessons from Master behind our backs?!"

Down below, inside the quiet shop...

Meng Jia opened her mouth, her lips parting to speak, but her throat refused to produce a single sound. Her mind was a chaotic storm of warmth, disbelief, and a strange, overwhelming joy that made her hands tremble.

Lee Bie saw her struggle and offered a small, gentle smile—a smile completely free of the arrogance he had shown the guards outside.

"You don’t have to give me an answer right now," Lee Bie said softly, his tone relaxed and entirely unhurried. "I’m not here to force you, and I don’t expect you to make a decision today. If you want, we can go slowly. Take all the time you need. But I want you to know that my feelings are completely serious. You will be the first and the last person in my life."

He paused, looking around the modest herbal shop before meeting her eyes again.

"And if you ever want to... you can come up the mountain and join the Sanatan Flame Sect too."

Meng Jia’s eyes widened sharply. "Join your sect...? But... I am nowhere near qualified for a Level Eight High-Grade Sect. My cultivation is far too weak..."

Lee Bie let out a short, warm laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a familiar, easy posture.

"Don’t worry about that," Lee Bie said, a proud, sharp spark touching his eyes as he spoke of his home. "Our sect doesn’t just accept the strong. Our sect makes people strong."

Meng Jia looked at him, the sincerity in his voice washing away the last remnants of her hesitation. She slowly lowered her head, her dark hair falling forward to cover the deep blush still lingering on her cheeks.

After a long, quiet moment, she gave a single, firm nod.

"I... I have to ask my Master first," Meng Jia murmured, her voice soft but steady. "When he returns from the mountains... I will tell him. And then... I will definitely try to join your sect... and think about your proposal."

A radiant, blinding grin burst across Lee Bie’s face.

Before he could say another word, a loud, dramatic cough echoed from the paper-screen entrance.

"Well, well, well!"

The front drapes were pushed aside as Muo Qian and Su Quan stepped smoothly into the shop, their official red-and-gold disciple robes rustling with refined elegance. Right behind them, Xiao Rui, Sheng Lu, and Zong Bu shuffled through the door, trying desperately to look like distinguished, casual passersby who hadn’t just been crouching on the roof for thirty minutes.

Lee Bie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You guys—?!"

Ignoring him completely, Muo Qian and Su Quan glided past his navy-clad frame and approached the counter. Muo Qian offered Meng Jia a warm, bright smile, extending her hand across the wood.

"Hello, Sister Meng Jia," Muo Qian said, her tone sweet and incredibly welcoming. "I am Muo Qian, and this is Su Quan. We are core disciples of the Sanatan Flame Sect."

Su Quan smiled warmly, nodding in agreement. "Don’t mind these idiots. If Lee Bie ever bothers you or acts stupid, just let us know. We’ll personally throw him off the mountain for you."

Meng Jia blinked, her initial surprise instantly melting beneath their warm, friendly demeanor. "Ah... greetings, Seniors..."

Meanwhile, the Single Mingle Gang surrounded Lee Bie like a pack of wolves, Sheng Lu hooking a thick arm around Lee Bie’s neck and dragging him into a headlock.

"You shameless brat!" Sheng Lu grunted in a harsh whisper, rubbing his knuckles against Lee Bie’s head. "Where did you learn those lines?! ’I don’t want better, I just want you’?! You almost made me cry out there!"

"Get off me!" Lee Bie hissed, his face burning bright red as he struggled against Sheng Lu’s grip. "I was being genuine!"

Xiao Rui shook his head solemnly, patting Lee Bie’s shoulder with deep, sarcastic respect. "Our pioneer has evolved. He has left the Single Mingle Gang behind and ascended to a higher realm."

Zong Bu adjusted his headband, offering a calm, approving nod. "The execution was unrefined, but the emotional impact was high. I approve."

After a few minutes of lively, chaotic banter, the group prepared to depart. Meng Jia walked them to the edge of the rosewood threshold, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the street.

Lee Bie stepped back from the group, reaching into the inner fold of his navy robe. He pulled out a small, exquisite wooden box, unlatching the silver clasp to reveal a polished jade hairpin carved in the shape of a delicate flame, glowing with a faint, soothing spiritual warmth.

He gently handed the box to Meng Jia, his golden eyes meeting hers with quiet, unwavering devotion.

"A small gift," Lee Bie said softly, his voice clear over the breeze. "I will wait for you on the mountain, Meng Jia."

Meng Jia held the wooden box against her chest, her fingers tracing the carved jade. A breathtaking, genuine smile broke across her face, flushing her cheeks once more.

"I will come," Meng Jia whispered.

The return trip up the Sanatan Mountain Range was filled with endless teasing from the gang, but as their boots crossed the stone threshold of the lower gates, the atmosphere shifted.

Word of Lee Bie’s exploits down on 22nd Street had already swept through the mountain like a wildfire.

Disciples gathered along the open stone terraces, setting aside their practice swords and medical crates as the group walked past. Without the rigid boundaries of formal ranks separating the crowd, a single, unified wave of laughter and cheering spilled down the mountain pathways.

"Look! It’s Lee Bie!"

"I heard he flattened a Golden Vein expert with one finger just to protect his girl!"

"Hahaha! ’I don’t want better, I just want you!’ You’re a true romantic hero!"

"Teach us your ways!"

Whistling and good-natured shouts erupted from every platform. Lee Bie buried his face in his hands, ducking his head and quickening his pace, while Xiao Rui and Sheng Lu shamelessly waved to the crowd on his behalf, soaking up the applause.

At the highest terrace, standing before the majestic archway of the Main Gate, Shaurya stood waiting.

His black-and-gold coat fluttered sharply in the high-altitude wind. Beside him, Elder Wu held a glowing golden scroll—an official intelligence report stamped with the royal seal of King Tian Long and the kingdom’s secret network.

Shaurya watched the energetic, laughing crowd of disciples below with a faint, satisfied smirk before turning his eyes to the scroll in Elder Wu’s hand.

"Report," Shaurya commanded smoothly.

Elder Wu opened the scroll, his sharp eyes scanning the floating glyphs. "Sect Master, the regional intelligence is confirmed. Liu Tong launched a ruthless, blood-crazed assault on the Celestial Sword Sect’s border territory. Sect Master Huo Ling barely managed to activate their ancient mountain array to protect their core district, but the rest of their lands are in ruins. Cloud Peak Sect has mobilized their entire remaining fleet and departed to reinforce Celestial Sword."

Elder Wu paused, his expression turning grave. "If Cloud Peak and Celestial Sword fail to execute a joint strike to kill Liu Tong within the next seven days, Liu Tong’s will completely break their core array and obliterate both sects entirely."

Shaurya listened quietly, his golden eyes reflecting the sea of clouds rolling below the peak.

A sharp, dangerous, and wildly confident smile slowly spread across Shaurya’s face.

"Great," Shaurya murmured, his voice rich with anticipation. "The next seven days will show all the results."

High above the cliffs, the air thrummed.

The nine golden rings suspended over the horizon slowed their violent rotation. The suffocating, lethal pressure that usually crushed the outer hundred miles dissolved, softening into a warm, inviting hum that washed across the surrounding valleys. Down at the mountain’s base, the massive iron gates groaned open, casting a long, shadowless archway over the main road.

Far across the lowland plains, where the dusty roads of neighboring kingdoms converged, the earth seemed to move.

Dark, endless lines of people bled out from the distant tree lines. Bandaged rogue cultivators leaning on chipped iron swords, disgraced clan youths carrying wrapped heirlooms, crippled figures walking with wooden staffs, and weary travelers from every direction choked the thoroughfares. They pushed toward the valley, thousands of pale, tired faces lifting all at once toward the soaring jade terraces and floating black hull of the Sanatan Flame Sect.

A heavy gust swept over the highest ridge.

Shaurya stepped onto the sheer edge of the precipice, the embroidered gold along his coat catching the sharp afternoon sun as the wind whipped the heavy fabric around his boots. His eyes swept over the vast, black sea of humanity gathering in the valley below, before tilting upward into the open, endless sky.

To Be Continued...

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