On the busiest Nanling Street in the southern district of Jiayuan City stood a massive mansion spanning several acres. Its black lacquered main gate bore a plaque inscribed with the words “Mo Manor,” beneath which eight robust men in tight-fitting attire stood guard on either side. These men stood tall and alert, their gazes fixed forward, exuding an air of disciplined vigor that commanded respect.
Not far from Mo Manor, across the street, stood a three-story restaurant known as Xiangjia Tavern. This establishment was one of Jiayuan City’s most renowned inns, famous particularly for its signature liquor, “Hundred-League Fragrance,” which attracted merchants and travelers from near and far.
It was now noon, the peak hour for meals, and the tavern was packed to capacity. Every table from the first to the third floor was occupied by diners enjoying their food.
Passersby on the street outside could catch the rich, tantalizing aroma of food and wine wafting from the tavern, making their mouths water with temptation.
Seated by a street-facing window on the second floor was a young man. His table was laid with an assortment of savory meat and vegetable dishes, accompanied by a bottle of the famed “Hundred-League Fragrance” wine. Behind him stood an intimidatingly large man—this was Han Li, who had come to gather information.
Han Li gazed down thoughtfully from the window, idly twirling a small wine cup in his hand. He had barely touched the food on his table, his mind clearly elsewhere.
He cast a sidelong glance toward Mo Manor in the distance before shifting his gaze back to the street below. His expression remained unchanged as he raised the cup to his lips and drained it in one go, then resumed his absent-minded staring.
From his inquiries, Han Li had learned that Mo Daifu’s two biological daughters and his adopted daughter were all renowned beauties in Jiayuan City, celebrated for their stunning looks and charm. They were often playfully referred to as the “Three Jewels of Mo Manor.”
Their fame had attracted countless suitors—young masters of wealthy families and dashing heroes alike.
Among them, Mo Yuzhu was considered the most breathtakingly beautiful and had the most admirers. Her recent engagement had caused an uproar, leaving many of her suitors heartbroken. Some, skilled in martial arts, had challenged the successful suitor, a young master named Wu Jianming. To everyone’s surprise, Wu defeated sixteen of these rivals in succession, earning a reputation as a peerless martial artist and drawing himself and Mo Yuzhu even closer.
Han Li found the situation rather absurd. While others were unaware of Wu Jianming’s true origins, Han Li knew better.
Wu Jianming was almost certainly sent by Mo Daifu’s enemies. Mo Daifu’s prolonged absence had likely raised suspicions among his rivals, and Wu’s arrival was likely a probe to test the waters. Han Li wondered how Wu had managed to gain the trust of the Mo family—ordinary tokens or letters alone would hardly have convinced Mo Daifu’s wives.
Lost in thought, Han Li lightly tapped the table with his fingers, pondering these questions.
“Right this way, young master! Please take a seat. Your order will be ready shortly.” A waiter in a white short jacket guided a blue-robed man in his late twenties to the second floor and seated him at an empty table next to Han Li before hurrying off to attend to other customers.
The blue-robed man had sharp, well-defined features, with thick eyebrows and bright eyes that conveyed a sense of vigor and dignity.
After sitting down, he glanced around the room, and his eyes momentarily met Han Li’s.
Han Li felt an inexplicable depth in the man’s gaze, as if some strange force were pulling him in. Startled, he quickly averted his eyes, his expression shifting slightly.
The blue-robed man also seemed surprised but soon responded with a cold glance before turning away, ignoring Han Li entirely.
Han Li’s face paled. That brief exchange had left him feeling utterly exposed, as if every secret he held had been laid bare. It was a deeply unsettling sensation, one he had never experienced before.
Once his food and wine arrived, the blue-robed man began eating heartily, completely absorbed in his meal and paying no attention to anyone around him.
Han Li, however, grew increasingly restless and uneasy.
Though he hadn’t used his Heavenly Eye Technique to observe the man, he could faintly sense the powerful spiritual energy emanating from him. It was clear that this man was a cultivator far more advanced than himself.
Up to this point, Han Li had only encountered two other cultivators: Yu Zitong, who had lost both his physical form and spiritual power, and Golden Light Venerable, whose cultivation was pitifully weak and whom Han Li had easily eliminated. Thus, Han Li’s understanding of cultivators remained limited, shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. He had no idea how to handle encountering someone so much stronger than himself.
“Would this blue-robed man mercilessly eliminate me, just as I did to Golden Light Venerable?” Han Li couldn’t help but fear the worst.
To his relief, the blue-robed man finished his meal without further incident. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, tossed a silver ingot onto the table, and departed gracefully—without so much as another glance in Han Li’s direction, as if he had already forgotten his existence.
Only after the man had completely left the tavern did Han Li let out a long sigh of relief, slumping back into his chair. Though the blue-robed man’s meal had been brief, the mental strain Han Li endured made it feel like an eternity. The pressure had been overwhelming, as though he had just survived a life-and-death battle.
Meanwhile, the blue-robed man reappeared at the entrance of an alley at the other end of the street, where a man in his thirties, dressed in yellow robes, was waiting for him.
“Third Brother, you’re late! We need to meet up with Big Brother and the others,” the yellow-robed man said impatiently.
“Heh, don’t be angry, Second Brother! It’s been years since I last tasted mortal food—I just couldn’t resist,” the blue-robed man replied with a playful grin.
“Always thinking with your stomach! How many times have I told you? We cultivators should practice temperance and avoid overindulgence. Yet you never listen. This kind of gluttony only weakens your resolve,” the yellow-robed man scolded, shooting him a stern look.
“Alright, alright, I get it. It won’t happen again! By the way, I ran into another cultivator at the tavern,” the blue-robed man said, quickly changing the subject.
“Oh? How strong was he?” The yellow-robed man’s attention immediately shifted.
“Quite weak, probably only at the seventh or eighth layer of basic cultivation—barely enough to qualify for the Ascension Fair. I really don’t get it. Why would someone so weak come to Lanzhou? Does he really think he’ll get lucky and win the Ascension Fair?” The blue-robed man smirked dismissively.
“How old did he look?”
“Seventeen or eighteen.”
“That makes sense. He’s probably here with an elder, just to gain some experience and broaden his horizons. He’ll likely participate seriously in the next Ascension Fair ten years from now,” the yellow-robed man said with a laugh.
“I suppose so. If that’s the case, his aptitude isn’t bad. In another ten years, he might even reach my level,” the blue-robed man boasted proudly.
“Don’t flatter yourself! Reaching the tenth layer is nothing special—plenty of cultivators achieve that every year at the Ascension Fair. Brag after you break through to the eleventh or twelfth layer,” the yellow-robed man retorted, both amused and exasperated. Without another word, he turned and walked away.
“Honestly, if I could reach beyond the tenth layer without a Foundation Establishment Pill, why would I even bother with the Ascension Fair? I’d just find a master directly,” the blue-robed man grumbled under his breath as he followed behind.
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