Elder Tao was quite generous.
The small, turtle-shell-shaped shield was an Upper Grade Defensive Spiritual Artifact.
Then there was the Middle Grade Flying Sword Elder Tao had gifted him when he'd advanced to the Qi Cultivation Second Layer.
With these two Magical Artifacts in hand, plus a large handful of Talismans, Du Youqian was fairly confident he could survive an encounter even with a Qi Cultivation Middle Stage Cultivator.
Worried about his wife, Du Youqian didn't linger. That same day, he performed a quick preliminary refinement on the Turtle Shield, bid farewell to Elder Tao, and descended the mountain.
~~~~~~~~~~~
At the foot of Soul-shaking Mountain lay the small city of Shuangxi City.
Two small rivers flowed from west to east, cutting through the entire city.
The entire city was built around these two rivers.
In this small city, the most common mode of transportation wasn't horse-drawn carriages, but boats.
The dense, fine tributaries of these two rivers, like the veins of a human body, combined with canals built over millennia, wove a network of waterways throughout the city. It looked intricate and complex, but was in fact completely navigable.
Hundreds, even thousands, of small boats moved in an endless stream across this network.
「That night.」
In the southern part of the city, the Hundred Flowers Building was brightly lit.
From far away, one could hear the chirping chatter of women and shouts from drinking games. Set against the backdrop of decadent string and flute music, the sounds made the passing boatmen's hearts itch with desire.
"This Hundred Flowers Building, it's the best brothel around these parts," a boatman said, proudly showing off to his passenger. "The girls in there are something else—so beautiful. And they're masters of everything, from music to singing. Young masters from all the nearby counties hear of its fame and come here looking for a good time."
The passenger didn't respond.
The boatman turned to look back and froze on the spot.
'The passenger? Where did my passenger go? He was right here!'
'How could he have just vanished without a sound?'
Could it be...? Recalling the ghost stories told about this river, the boatman shivered. An icy chill shot up his spine and straight to the crown of his head.
Inside the Hundred Flowers Building.
A table of Jianghu men were deep in loud conversation.
"You guys think she'll actually go? The Jade-faced Rakshasa, I mean. Even knowing it's a trap?" The speaker was a large Tuduo with a brutish, fleshy face. He looked utterly menacing as his hands roamed all over the scantily clad woman in his arms.
A middle-aged man with a scar on his left cheek spun a porcelain wine cup with a smirk. "Go? Of course she'll go. The Jade-faced Rakshasa is supposedly the adoptive mother of that martial arts scoundrel, Liao Leizhong. They say they're as close as real mother and son. How could she abandon him?"
"Cyan Bamboo Castle... Heheh, what a 'Cyan Bamboo Castle'..." A scholar, who'd been fast asleep with his head on the table, seemed to shift uncomfortably. He turned his face the other way and mumbled indistinctly.
The scholar's companion was an unremarkable-looking man in a common short shirt with cinched sleeves. He had been quietly pouring and drinking wine for himself, but now he spoke up. "Cyan Bamboo Castle posted a bounty. Whoever kills the Jade-faced Rakshasa will receive three Divine Soldiers, their choice of five of the castle's secret techniques, ten Small Returning Pills, and ten thousand gold taels. They'll even give the Fortress Lord's firstborn daughter in marriage. Hell, that's the kind of price you'd pay to kill an Innate Grandmaster! The Jade-faced Rakshasa may be the daughter of Long Qifeng, one of the Four Extremes Swordsmen, but she can't possibly be worth that much, can she?"
"What do you people know!" the scarred man snorted, pushing away the woman who was clinging to him. His expression grew agitated. "The Jade-faced Rakshasa was gone for eighteen years. Do you have any idea who she was with before she disappeared?"
"Who?"
"Me," a cold voice said.
"Stop messing around," the Tuduo said, waving his hand impatiently. He turned back to the scarred man, asking curiously, "So who was it?"
But the scarred man glanced at something behind the Tuduo and immediately broke out in a cold sweat. His hands and feet trembled, and he could no longer hold his cup steady. The porcelain cup slipped from his grasp. CLINK.
Just then, a hand shot out from nowhere, swooping down to catch the cup that had just fallen.
Then, the hand tossed the cup into the air.
As if by magic, the cup—which had clearly been shattered—was suddenly whole again. It traced a parabola through the air, flipped over, and landed on the tip of a translucent, jade-like finger, where it spun rapidly.
"An Innate Grandmaster!" The Tuduo instantly broke out in a cold sweat.
This was clearly the work of an Innate Grandmaster, projecting their Innate True Qi to bind the broken pieces of the cup together and maintain its complete form.
The feat seemed simple. A child might have laughed and clapped, mistaking it for a common street magic trick.
But this was a Realm countless Martial Artists could only dream of achieving!
The scholar was no longer feigning sleep. He nervously placed a hand on his waist, where a Soft Sword was coiled.
The scholar's companion trembled uncontrollably, but a Short Dagger hidden in his sleeve was ready to strike like a viper at any moment.
"I have no desire to kill you at the moment, so control yourselves. Don't make a move," the newcomer said, his tone light.
The scholar timidly raised his head for a look. The man who had suddenly appeared had temples lightly frosted with grey, but his features were still as handsome as a young man's.
His gaze traveled upward. The moment he met the newcomer's eyes, he jerked his head down as if shocked, not daring to look again.
It was difficult to describe the sensation.
The newcomer's eyes weren't sharp, nor did they hold any killing intent. They merely held a hint of worldly weariness and a certain detached indifference.
And yet, he felt that if he stared for even a second longer, he would die...
But when he averted his gaze, his senses told him that the spot where the man stood... was completely empty.
The contradiction of knowing someone was standing right there yet being utterly unable to perceive them was so overwhelming it made him want to vomit blood just to relieve the pressure.
An Innate Grandmaster, no doubt about it!
He was certain of it now.
The scholar swallowed hard. "Dare I ask... is Your Excellency... Elder Fang? Fang Ying, once known as the 'Carefree Drunkard'?"
Du Youqian remained expressionless and didn't answer him. "I haven't set foot in the Jianghu for twenty years. I'm out of touch. Someone tell me what's going on with Cyan Bamboo Castle, and what they've done to my adopted son, Liao Leizhong."
As he spoke, he gave the Tuduo a casual shove.
An irresistible surge of power, laced with a spinning force, lifted the Tuduo into the air and sent him whirling over to land beside the scarred man.
The large Tuduo possessed an agility that belied his size. After spinning a couple of times, he landed steadily on his feet.
His face had gone pale from the ordeal, but he didn't dare show any anger toward Du Youqian.
Du Youqian sat down in the Tuduo's former seat and tapped the large square table. "Speak."
His tone was perfectly calm.
The guests at the surrounding tables and the waitresses bustling back and forth seemed completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere at this table.
Those playing drinking games kept playing; those flirting kept flirting.
It was as if this table of Jianghu men had been artificially cut off from the rest of the Hundred Flowers Building.
As if they no longer occupied the same space.
Trembling, the scarred man began to tell the story, not daring to hide a single detail or offer any resistance.
Innate Grandmasters were the stuff of legends in the Jianghu.
How "fortunate" this table of Jianghu men was, to have actually met a living Grandmaster!
Of course, one only had to look at their grief-stricken faces—on the verge of tears they couldn't shed—to know if this was the kind of fortune they had ever wanted or could possibly bear.