Chapter Sixty-Four: Jiang Xianghu’s Fate
If someone from the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect arrived here, then this journey would have to end prematurely.
Shen Yu thought it would be just as well; he wouldn’t have to explain the matter of riches, and as for the travel documents, those could be dealt with later. He set down his teacup, preparing to confirm the situation.
The boy in black was tossing soybeans into the air, catching them one by one in his wide-open mouth. He noticed Shen Yu and asked, “Sir?”
“Go find an inn and settle in for now. Don’t cause any trouble. I’ll come find you,” Shen Yu instructed as he rose, then walked toward the town.
He followed the flow of people, arriving at the very center of the town, where a three-story inn stood tall. The gilded sign was striking, bearing the name “Tianhe Inn.”
Shen Yu made his way toward the inn’s main entrance, just as a group of people emerged from within. The men carried an ethereal air, the women were noble and elegant, all surrounded by an aura of immortality—a true display of immortal bearing.
The inn’s staff stood at the door, heads bowed, respectfully saying, “Farewell, Immortal Masters.”
Travelers on the road quickly parted, clearing the central path in a gesture of reverence.
Shen Yu did not yield, walking with hands behind his back, indifferent and composed. Several gazes sized him up, a hint of surprise in their eyes.
This young man had delicate features, but no trace of spiritual energy about him—most likely just a mortal. On the journey from East Ancestor State, few mortals dared meet their eyes, let alone remain so calm.
Cultivators, with spiritual energy in their bodies, naturally exuded a subtle pressure, often unsettling mortals, who felt as if they were before earthly emperors, shrinking back in awe.
Among the immortals, a proud young man glanced at Shen Yu, his gaze filled with contemptuous pity.
As they drew close, he deliberately released a sliver of his own pressure, then sneered, “Stop pretending. You’re nothing but an ant.”
Shen Yu paused for a breath, then continued forward, as if he hadn’t heard.
A coldly beautiful woman in violet robes glanced at him with casual indifference, witnessing the scene. She thought to herself: another mortal trying to attract attention, and didn’t spare him another look, as if afraid he’d sully her eyes.
They passed each other quietly.
She suddenly sighed, “Such a pity for those looks.”
The arrogant young man teased, “Sister Yun, are you interested in that boy? I wouldn’t approve.”
The woman in violet gave him a cold stare.
He felt uneasy, coughed awkwardly, and changed the subject, “That little girl really doesn’t know her place. We came all the way from the Immortal Sect, and before she can even formally apprentice herself, her master dies. She didn’t give us any face at all.”
Sister Yun said, “Our master often said, ‘As one drinks water, only they know if it’s cold or warm.’”
The young man argued, “But he also said, cultivators must fight for every breath.”
Sister Yun fell silent for a moment, then nodded, “You’re right.”
Sometimes, a single decision can change the course of a life.
She agreed with her junior’s point of view, and so she couldn’t understand the choice that little girl made in her courtyard.
For cultivators, worldly emotions—love, gratitude—were fleeting and meaningless before the Great Dao.
If that girl, after many years, finally embarked upon the path of cultivation, looking back to find her closest kin turned to skeletons while she remained unchanged, standing alone in the world—what would she think then?
Of course, all of this was but an illusion.
Sister Yun murmured, “Ants.”
The arrogant young man smiled faintly. Who could disagree?
...
In a secluded courtyard of the Tianhe Inn.
Lu Caiwei, having resumed her true identity, sat silently in the hall, her eyes red, her face yellowed and filled with complex emotions.
After escaping the narrow pass haunted by ghosts, she arrived at the ancient town of Pingyao and soon heard that Immortal Masters from the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect were coming. She thought things would go smoothly, but instead, she was met with calamity.
Elder Qu Zheng from the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect had perished.
He was the very one who, ten years ago, had appeared at her home to take her as his disciple.
As she struggled in confusion, the woman in violet told her she could still join the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect, and even attain a position higher than Qu Zheng’s.
---
The condition was simple: she could never again acknowledge Qu Zheng as her master.
For most people, this would be a blessing beyond measure, hardly worth a second thought.
But she refused—without hesitation—shocking everyone.
As she wrestled with her emotions, there came a gentle knock at the door.
Lu Caiwei looked up to see a delicate young man standing outside—it was Shen Yu.
She was startled; given the danger, after escaping the haunted pass, she realized Shen Yu hadn’t been in the carriage, and she thought he surely couldn’t have survived.
“So, the people from the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect have already met you,” Shen Yu said. “Do you still need me to drive?”
Lu Caiwei wiped away her tears and shook her head, “No, not anymore. Thank you.”
Shen Yu nodded and turned to leave.
He had come only for an answer—the favor owed for that bag of silver had been repaid in the haunted pass.
“Wait.”
Lu Caiwei called out suddenly.
Shen Yu stopped and turned, watching as she walked into the inner room and returned with a small bundle.
“There’s a hundred taels here, counting the fifty from before, that’s a hundred and fifty taels. It’s the payment we agreed upon from the start,” Lu Caiwei said calmly. “I was going to ask about your family when I returned. Now it’s even better—you survived.”
Shen Yu looked at the bundle but said nothing.
Bang!
The courtyard gate was pushed open forcefully.
“Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you?”
It was the rugged man Jiang Jianghu. He swept his gaze over them, then strolled in carelessly, his manner flippant.
Shen Yu remained silent.
Lu Caiwei frowned slightly, “What do you want?”
“I want out of this job. So, can we settle my payment?” Jiang Jianghu glanced at the silver in her hand, chuckling, “Even that dim-witted boy got his pay, so how about my Concentration Pill?”
Lu Caiwei cut him off, “It was agreed the Concentration Pill would be given upon arrival at the Immortal Sect in East Ancestor State. We haven’t even left Central State—how can it count?”
“I’m saying, I don’t want to continue this journey,” the rugged man said playfully. “Who knows what monsters or ghosts we’ll run into next? It’s not worth dying for a pill.”
Lu Caiwei’s expression darkened, but before she could speak, a hoarse voice interrupted.
“Hmph, courting death, are you?”
Kou Wang, authoritative as ever, stepped out of another room.
Jiang Jianghu glanced at him with disdain, “Old man, do you think I don’t know? When you fought that ghost in the haunted pass, you were badly injured. You can’t hide how little strength you have left.”
The atmosphere grew tense.
The elder’s face was expressionless, his sleeves billowing without wind, and a flying dagger-shaped magical instrument shot out, aimed straight at Jiang Jianghu’s face.
Jiang Jianghu was unfazed, evidently prepared. He drew a silver bracelet from his waist and laughed, “Drop!”
The bracelet shone brightly, an invisible force sweeping the courtyard and pulling the flying dagger from midair to the ground.
Shen Yu finally glanced over.
“The Treasure-Dropping Bracelet!”
Kou Wang exclaimed, his pale face growing even worse. “How could a mere fifth-level martial artist possess such a magical item?”
“Thanks to your lady’s generosity,” Jiang Jianghu replied, pocketing the bracelet. Kou Wang spat blood and collapsed.
Satisfied with the outcome, Jiang Jianghu sneered, “I really don’t know what you’re thinking—how could you offend the immortals of the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect? See, now retribution has come.”
---
Lu Caiwei bit her lip and asked, “Did they send you to deal with me?”
“Who knows!” Jiang Jianghu stepped forward, not even glancing at the young coachman, grinning as he walked, “Hand over all your valuables and money, and I’ll spare the old man’s life. Otherwise...”
Lu Caiwei clenched her teeth, raising her palm to slap him.
But in an instant, Jiang Jianghu caught her wrist with one hand and leered, inhaling her scent, sighing in delight, “So fragrant!”
Lu Caiwei’s eyes reddened, trembling with rage, yet powerless against this seasoned rogue.
Jiang Jianghu was thoroughly pleased.
He had never hidden his envy.
Why should he, after years of risking his life, barely reach the fifth level of martial insight, while a foolish woman could be favored by the great immortal sects and climb the path to immortality in a single leap?
What galled him most was that this foolish woman refused such a grand opportunity!
To gain immortality, what did it matter if she changed masters—or even killed her master?
But at least, Jiang Jianghu had received his own great opportunity, bestowed by an immortal master of the Returning Cloud Immortal Sect.
“Don’t struggle. Even if someone outside sees, none would dare intervene in matters of the immortal sects,” Jiang Jianghu whispered into her ear, “Hand over your treasures, then remove your mask. If you’re pretty... heh, I might let you live as my concubine.”
Lu Caiwei’s chest shook with fury, her voice trembling, “In your dreams!”
“Hmm?”
Jiang Jianghu darted to the door, raising Kou Wang bodily off the ground.
“No!” Lu Caiwei cried.
“Will you agree?” Jiang Jianghu demanded.
Lu Caiwei hesitated.
His grip grew ever tighter, the old man’s face turning crimson.
“Should I count?”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“Don’t! I agree, I agree!” Lu Caiwei nearly collapsed, tears streaming down her face, choking on her words, “Don’t hurt Grandpa Kou, I... I...”
“Wise choice.” Jiang Jianghu tossed Kou Wang to the ground, the elder already unconscious.
He smiled in satisfaction, “Go inside, remove your mask, and cleanse yourself. As for you...” He glanced at Shen Yu standing in the courtyard, sneering, “Get lost! If you ruin my mood, I’ll tear you to pieces.”
Shen Yu remained calm, picking up the bundle Lu Caiwei had thrown to the ground earlier, murmuring, “This silver... should be enough.”
Jiang Jianghu snapped, “What are you muttering about?”
Shen Yu, back turned, replied coolly, “I said... these coins are just enough to buy a life.”
A chill of impending death swept over Jiang Jianghu, his body trembling uncontrollably.
All he wanted now was to flee this place, away from the young man before him.
But escape was impossible.
Without warning, a jade sword pierced through his chest, smashing aside every obstacle and nailing his body to the wall inside.
The snow-white wall was suddenly splashed with crimson, as if a scroll had been drenched in ink.