In the small town of Xin’an, located west of Wuyuan Prefecture in Liaozhou, two slender women dressed in blue Daoist robes walked side by side along a secluded hill.
Their feet shimmered with a white glow, and with just a light tap on the ground, they effortlessly floated forward several feet. Their movements were so subtle and their robes so long that, from a distance, they appeared to be gliding just above the ground, their postures exquisitely graceful.
“Senior Sister Lu, is Master really not going to intervene this time? Even with Junior Sister Cao, I doubt we can handle that person from the Xiling Sect. He’s a seventh-level Qi Refinement cultivator, and I hear he’s highly favored by the Xiling Sect’s leader. We’re only at the sixth and seventh levels—together, we might stand a chance, but if he brings reinforcements, we’ll be outmatched. And if we lose, Junior Sister Cao won’t be able to interfere with his rescue mission. The person he’s trying to save is a wanted criminal by the government, which might implicate Junior Sister Cao’s father.” The younger of the two, a delicate-looking girl of about seventeen or eighteen, spoke with frustration to her older companion.
“There’s nothing we can do. Our sect, as cultivators, shouldn’t meddle in government affairs. Junior Sister Cao is only a nominal disciple of our Xuanyu Dao, and Master only taught her some basic spells, so she hasn’t said much about it. After all, the government employs many low-level rogue cultivators to handle matters related to cultivation. But this time, the person the Xiling Sect disciple wants to save has deep ties to him, and he’s aware of Junior Sister Cao’s connection to our sect. He came personally, so we couldn’t just ignore it. However, Master used the excuse of her being a nominal disciple to avoid punishing her, leaving the matter for him to handle. After he left, Master immediately summoned us and hinted that he would likely challenge Junior Sister Cao to force her withdrawal. By sending us, knowing our close relationship with her, Master clearly intended for us to assist her. Otherwise, why send us when she had already received the message via spirit bird? Senior Sister Yu and the others, though more powerful, have a different master and aren’t close to Junior Sister Cao—they wouldn’t risk offending others for her. Master has done her best. The Xiling Sect and our Xuanyu Dao have some ties, and as an elder, she couldn’t openly take sides.” The older woman, gentle in appearance, sighed as she spoke.
“I remember County Lieutenant Cao being quite decent when he was stationed near our temple. He always treated Master and the others with respect. If he gets implicated because of this, it’s truly an undeserved misfortune!” The younger girl seemed distressed.
“If that happens, it can’t be helped. At worst, losing a prisoner isn’t a capital offense for a county lieutenant—he’d just lose his position. But Junior Sister Cao seems oddly composed. She arranged to meet us here despite the situation. Does she already have a plan?” The older woman mused, a hint of doubt in her voice.
“Why trouble yourself, Senior Sister? Once we reach the peak, we can just ask her.” The younger girl chuckled.
“You’re right, Junior Sister.” The older woman nodded.
They quickened their pace and soon reached the summit, where they both gasped in surprise. The peak was small, only about a hundred feet across, but it held a thatched hut and a simple stone pavilion. Inside the pavilion, a man and a woman sat on stone stools, conversing over a green stone table. The man was plain-faced and pale, while the woman was beautiful and listened intently.
As soon as the two women appeared, the man noticed and turned his head. “Fellow Daoist Cao, it seems your guests have arrived,” he said with a smile, standing up.
“Senior Sisters, you’re here! Wonderful!” The woman, Cao Mengrong, rose with delight.
“You look well, Junior Sister. Wait—your cultivation has advanced a level? Congratulations!” The older woman smiled warmly but was visibly surprised upon closer inspection.
“I only broke through recently. I’m still far behind you two,” Cao Mengrong replied modestly, her lips curving into a pleased smile.
“Junior Sister Cao, who is this fellow Daoist? His cultivation seems incredibly high—tenth level?” The younger woman, eyeing the man in scholar’s robes, suddenly exclaimed in shock.
The older woman, startled, scanned him with her spiritual sense and paled slightly.
“I am Han Li, a rogue cultivator currently staying as a guest at Miss Cao’s home,” Han Li said calmly.
“Ah, no wonder Junior Sister is so composed. With Brother Han here, that Wu Xiaoyu won’t stand a chance,” the older woman said, visibly relieved.
“Please sit, Senior Sisters. We can talk more. Though Brother Han is a rogue cultivator, his insights into cultivation are profound. His guidance helped me break through my bottleneck so quickly,” Cao Mengrong said warmly, inviting them into the pavilion.
“Then we must also seek Brother Han’s advice—” The older woman began, but a deep, resonant roar from the base of the mountain cut her off.
“He’s here!”
“How did he find this place so quickly?” The two Daoist women stood abruptly, turning toward the sound.
“Don’t worry, Senior Sisters. I invited him. Fellow Daoist Wu sought me out days ago, and with Brother Han’s permission, I arranged this meeting,” Cao Mengrong said confidently.
“So that’s why. We hurried here but still arrived late,” the older woman said, surprised but reassured. A tenth-level Qi Refinement cultivator could easily handle an eighth-level opponent.
A ball of white light shot up from below, carrying two figures.
“A flying artifact! How does he have one? And who’s the other person?” the younger woman gasped. Cao Mengrong and the older woman exchanged uneasy glances.
Flying artifacts were rare, even low-grade ones costing far more than mid-grade ordinary artifacts. Low-level cultivators like them could hardly afford them—most only had one low-grade artifact, usually a gift from their sect.
The two men landed aggressively, but Han Li merely glanced at them, unfazed.
It had been eight or nine months since Cao Mengrong rescued him. Whether due to his injuries being less severe than expected or the potency of his elixirs, he had recovered enough to restore his cultivation to the Foundation Establishment stage. Though his vitality and essence were still depleted, he was no longer defenseless.
Of course, Cao Mengrong couldn’t perceive his true strength. During his stay, she often sought his advice on cultivation. With his mid-Nascent Soul experience, guiding a Qi Refinement cultivator was trivial—a few words from him often brought her epiphanies. Grateful, she treated him with increasing respect, especially after advancing to the fourth level under his guidance.
Han Li, however, remained outwardly indifferent, already planning to leave in a month or so. Through her, he had learned much about the Great Jin’s cultivation world.
As for Qi Refinement elixirs, though he had some, he wouldn’t recklessly give them away in his weakened state. The Great Jin’s cultivation world was even more treacherous than the Heavenly South.
When Cao Mengrong recently received a warning from her sect, she turned to Han Li. Hearing it was merely a dispute with an eighth or ninth-level Qi Refinement cultivator, he agreed to help, seeing it as an opportunity to leave afterward.
Now, as the two men landed—one at the eighth level, the other at the eleventh—Han Li remained unperturbed.
While the women grew anxious, he stepped out of the pavilion, glanced at the sky, and said calmly, “I’m here to assist Fellow Daoist Cao. Which of you wishes to spar? Or do you plan to fight together?”
“Hmph! Good thing I came, or Junior Brother Wu would’ve been blindsided. You’re unfamiliar, and your cultivation isn’t bad, but I, Huang, can handle you alone. Let’s fight together to avoid excuses later,” the narrow-eyed man sneered, holding a plank-like artifact.
The other, a burly man in his thirties—presumably Wu Xiaoyu—glared coldly.
“Ma Yulin! You’re a Xiling Sect law enforcer! How can you interfere in a private duel?” the older woman demanded, aghast.
“Fellow Daoist Lu, you’re mistaken. Junior Brother Wu and I are related by marriage. My involvement is justified,” the man replied stiffly.
The older woman fell silent, the younger one anxious. Cao Mengrong’s expression darkened.
“Then let’s begin. I have other matters to attend to,” Han Li said, glancing at the sky before stepping forward, an enigmatic smile on his lips.
The man scoffed, stowing his plank artifact and drawing a pale yellow trident from his storage pouch.
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