Chapter Twenty-One: Dragon Martial Mountain!

Yufan struggled to lift his eyelids; the rain and his vision blurred into a hazy veil. Ahead, the sudden rift that had appeared had quietly sealed itself as if it had never existed, leaving behind only a lingering chill and a sense of unease in the air. The ground beneath his feet was slick and muddy, each step accompanied by heavy gasps and the sound of his boots peeling away from the mire.

His green robes swayed with the wind, no longer able to conceal their tattered state. Faint traces of blood, mixed with rainwater, stained the fabric, painting a picture that was both desolate and tragic. Raindrops slid down his sharp, angular cheeks, mingling with the sweat on his brow before dripping to the ground, splashing into tiny, fleeting blooms of water.

In Yufan’s eyes, exhaustion warred with an unyielding spirit. Clenching his teeth, he stumbled forward, seeking a glimmer of hope within the endless curtain of rain.

His green robes were in tatters, his body covered in wounds, and his long boots were cracked and worn. Yufan looked around, searching for any sign of life. After a moment, he gathered his strength and leaped onto the roof. Just then, a dark shadow began to follow him.

A moment later, Yufan returned to the inn.

His gaze involuntarily swept over the sparse patrons, fearing that the unseen pursuer might be lurking beneath the dim candlelight. Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he walked slowly toward a corner of the inn, where the light was dimmer and more secluded. Every step was taken with extreme caution, as if any slight sound might attract unwanted attention.

He found a seat by the window. Outside, the rain continued, sounding even more urgent than before; each drop felt like a rhythmic beat against his heart, stirring layers of ripples. Yufan’s fingertips lightly traced the edge of the table, his eyes shifting between the hazy rain outside and the faces of those in the inn, trying to catch a hint of a familiar or suspicious presence.

Yufan approached the waiter and asked, "The people who checked in a few days ago—have they left?"

The waiter stopped clicking his abacus, looked up at the man before him, and said, "Ah, it’s you, sir? They’ve been looking everywhere for you." The waiter lowered his head, continuing to click the abacus while checking the ledger. "They left a message for you: if you return, you are to wait for them here at the inn."

Yufan coughed and replied, "Thank you." He then pressed further, "And... have there been others asking for me?"

The waiter paused his abacus, suddenly remembering. "Oh, that’s right! A young lady left a letter for you and insisted that I give it to you." The waiter retrieved an envelope from the side and handed it to Yufan.

Yufan took the letter and headed toward the stairs.

Back in his room, he cleaned himself up briefly, took off his outer robe, and poured some spirits over his wounds. A moment later, Yufan walked to the bed and picked up the envelope from the table. It looked somewhat aged, its edges slightly dampened by the rain, carrying a faint scent of ink and humidity.

He pulled out a chair and sat down slowly, his movements tinged with a subtle sense of caution and anticipation. Outside, the rain seemed to intensify; the dense sound of the downpour was like a delicate drumbeat, adding a touch of solitude and mystery to the quiet room.

Yufan’s gaze fell upon the envelope, his fingertips gently tracing the familiar handwriting. A complex swell of emotions rose within him. He took a deep breath, as if making a momentous decision, and finally, he opened the letter.

As the seal broke, a neatly folded note came into view. A few lines were written in graceful, elegant script, revealing an indescribable tenderness and resolve between the lines.

Yufan’s pupils constricted slightly as his eyes locked onto the words: "Yufan, I hate you. You, Yufan, have stolen my heart, and yet you abandoned me. I thought you were different from other men, but I was wrong. My heart aches. I am leaving this place of sorrow. Do not let me see you again, you heartless man!"

Yufan slammed his hand onto the bed. "Insane! We’ve only met a few times, and I’ve stolen her heart? I’m truly speechless. I, Yufan—I have no power, I’m chased and beaten, trampled into the dust. I’m just a cowardly, irresponsible vegetable seller with no culture, no..."

Yufan looked down at the letter again, murmuring, "My heart aches..." He couldn't help but shudder. "How could I, Yufan, be such a jerk as to break a girl's heart? I couldn't do that. Next time I see her, I'll just give her a kiss to express my feelings."

He looked up, then shook his head. "No, that’s not right. I am a man of integrity; how could I do such a thing? Even though Miss Lin Yi is as beautiful as a goddess, for her to take an interest in someone like me... it would surely lower her standing."

Yufan placed the letter back into the envelope and tucked it into his pack. If he were to see her again, he wanted to tell her: "Love yourself before you love another; do not shed tears for a good-for-nothing like me."

Yufan lay back on the bed, staring at the bed curtains in deep thought.

The night was as dark as ink, and the rain had not abated; rather, it raged more fiercely, blurring the boundaries between heaven and earth. On the inn’s window lattice, water droplets slid down in a continuous stream, making faint sounds that blended with the rhythm of Yufan’s steady breathing to form a requiem for the night.

In this moment where tranquility and chaos intertwined, a dark shadow silently detached itself from the curtain of rain. Like a ghost in the night, it approached Yufan’s room without a sound.

The silhouette took shape on the roof tiles outside the window, its outline becoming clearer—a mysterious figure draped in a black cloak. The edges of the cloak were soaked with rain, clinging to the figure’s frame and exuding an undeniable aura of authority.

Standing at that height, the figure’s eyes pierced through the rain, as if looking directly into Yufan’s dreams. Those eyes shimmered with complex light—a mixture of appraisal for its prey and a hint of hesitation.

Raindrops slid along the cloak and struck the tiles with a crisp sound. While it blended into the surrounding rain, it felt particularly piercing in the stillness of the night.

The person standing across from Yufan’s window locked onto his location, leaped into the air, transformed into a mist of black shadow, and vanished.

Yufan mused to himself, "Elder Jian, Senior Sister, why haven't you returned yet? Perhaps it is better to continue my cultivation."

Yufan retrieved a medicine pouch from his pack and took out a pill.

He closed his eyes, focusing his mind until everything around him seemed to settle with his breathing. The candle flame in the room flickered, casting mottled shadows that stood in stark contrast to the raging wind and rain outside. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his posture as straight as a pine, a faint, warm aura radiating from his body.

As the internal energy slowly surged within his dantian, a faint glow flowed beneath Yufan’s skin—a sign that the power of the pill was dissolving within him. He pressed his palms together, his fingertips lightly touching, guiding the medicinal power along specific meridians. Each breath was accompanied by the undulation of his internal energy, rising and falling like the tides, yet orderly and steady.

He felt the surging, pure power within him—the breath of divinity gifted by the Temple Senior. It was like a gentle, trickling stream, firmly suppressing the restless, alien energy in his body, preventing it from devouring the internal energy he had worked so hard to cultivate.

"I have finally reached the tenth stage of the Heavenly Realm, only a step away from becoming a Grandmaster. Haha!" Yufan looked down at his own hands.