Volume One: Autumn Festival Chapter Three: The Cultivator in the Broken Alley

Xunyang Marquis’s Mansion.

In the courtyard where various exotic flowers and plants were cultivated, Jiang Wang lay on a wicker chair, squinting thoughtfully. He was seriously reflecting on the scenes he had faced against the monsters Luo Yong and Su Lingyi.

He was almost certain now: that power only manifested when he was under great personal threat.

To fully master that power, he had to continuously put himself in dangerous situations. Given his frail constitution, encountering danger seemed rather easy. He even wondered if that power had always been within him, merely dormant because he was sheltered at home and never exposed to peril. Otherwise, wouldn’t it have appeared much earlier?

He had spent the past two days studying the sword but found nothing extraordinary about it. If it wasn’t the sword, then this was the only plausible explanation.

At that moment, the mansion’s only maid appeared, carrying a large long sword. Her face was smudged with dirt as she walked in from outside the courtyard and softly called out, “Young Master.”

Jiang Wang turned his head to glance at her. “Xiao Yu, a young lady should be more reserved. Don’t always be brandishing swords and spears. Look at you, as if you’ve been rolling in the mud. How could you possibly befit the position of chief maid of the Marquis’s mansion?”

Xiao Yu wiped her face with her hand, tossed aside the sword, and deliberately sliced off a leg of the wicker chair.

Startled, Jiang Wang pulled up his legs and cursed, “I’m going to die by your hands sooner or later!”

Though Xiao Yu’s face was dirty, one could still discern her delicate features and well-proportioned figure. She was young and had grown into a graceful young woman. But her gaze was chillingly cold, making Jiang Wang too afraid to meet her eyes.

“What is it this time?” he asked.

Xiao Yu spoke softly, “Young Master, the peerless manual you said you found for me—I’ve practiced for so long, but it’s useless. You’re not tricking me, are you?”

Jiang Wang closed his eyes and replied calmly, “How could it be useless? You almost took my life several times wielding that big sword. Besides, if it’s truly a peerless manual, it wouldn’t be so easy to master. You need patience.”

Though Xiao Yu found his words reasonable, something still felt off. What kind of peerless manual only taught sword swings without a single technique? Seeing that Xiao Yu was momentarily mollified, Jiang Wang felt a pang of melancholy.

Three years ago, he had secretly slipped out of the mansion and wandered the bustling Qixia Street, where he first encountered Xiao Yu—who seemed to be fleeing from pursuers.

That was also the first time Jiang Wang had met a cultivator.

He immediately sensed that Xiao Yu was no ordinary girl, given she was rumored to be chased by cultivators.

Had it not been for the timely arrival of the old steward, who hid both Jiang Wang and Xiao Yu, they might not have survived.

Xiao Yu’s purpose in training was naturally to seek revenge.

Despite appearing aloof and intelligent, she was somewhat foolish, foolish enough to believe she could fight cultivators through martial arts alone.

Jiang Wang could never allow her to rush to her death.

To give her a goal to strive for, he had deliberately fabricated a so-called peerless manual for her to practice.

A simple, naive girl, yet always thinking about how to kill cultivators—truly absurd.

Still, Jiang Wang was impressed that despite the manual being fake, Xiao Yu seemed to have genuinely gained some skill.

The mansion’s west wall was frequently damaged by her sword swings, and the repair costs were countless.

***

At that moment, a limping elderly man entered the courtyard and looked kindly at Xiao Yu before bowing to Jiang Wang. “Young Master, there is a visitor outside the mansion.”

Jiang Wang was surprised.

If it were just matchmakers as before, the steward wouldn’t have bothered to inform him. But in these past two years, no one had come to visit the Marquis’s Mansion formally.

Outside the gate stood an old man dressed in a plain gray robe, holding a whisk, exuding an aura of an immortal or Taoist hermit.

Jiang Wang was astonished. “Master Tao?”

A “Master” was an honorific title; such men were reputed to know how to draw talismans and exorcise demons.

Though Jiang Wang had never seen one personally, Master Tao’s reputation was well-known throughout Huncheng, with many authentic stories rather than fabrications.

Still, Jiang Wang remained skeptical.

Master Tao flicked his whisk and smiled enigmatically. “Young friend, shall I tell your fortune?”

Jiang Wang was speechless.

It was like the old matchmaker who constantly pestered him about finding a bride.

Since their first meeting half a year ago, Master Tao’s opening line was always a fortune-telling, and today was the first time he had come calling in person.

Master Tao continued, “Young friend, you bear a great ill omen.”

Jiang Wang: “...”

Master Tao solemnly said, “When we first met six months ago, I sensed a trace of ominous energy on you, but you refused to let me dispel it. Now that much time has passed, I foresee that this ill energy has reached its peak. Hence, I must pay you a visit. Please don’t refuse me this time.”

Seeing Jiang Wang remain silent, Master Tao stepped forward, took a deep breath, and added, “If you have doubts, I can first help you dispel the ill omen and then charge you afterward.”

Jiang Wang frowned slightly. “How exactly do you dispel it?”

Master Tao smiled, “The ill energy you carry is quite peculiar. Perhaps you didn’t notice it before, but now that it has condensed to its peak, you will soon sense that something is wrong. When that time comes, you will suffer financial losses and even injury to your life.”

Words spoken unintentionally can stir thoughts.

Jiang Wang recalled the monsters and his expression subtly shifted.

Master Tao smiled faintly, “The method is simple. The first thing you must do is marry a bride.”

Jiang Wang: “...”

Feeling Jiang Wang’s skeptical gaze, Master Tao cleared his throat, “I have received no silver from any family to act as a matchmaker. This truly is the way to dispel the omen—and the bride must be born in a year, month, day, and hour all governed by yang energy.”

Jiang Wang still eyed him doubtfully. “Do you think I’d believe that?”

Master Tao shook his head. “I have lived an honest life without a single false word. Young friend, you must trust me.”

Jiang Wang was silent for a moment, then lightly waved his hand. “Tong Bo, see the guest out!”

The old steward promptly appeared, smiling as he escorted the still-persisting Master Tao away.

Jiang Wang turned back into the mansion.

The Xunyang Marquis’s Mansion was vast, but besides Jiang Wang, only the old steward, a young maid, and the painter Zhao Si lived there.

The steward lived in the front courtyard, Xiao Yu attended to Jiang Wang’s daily needs, and Zhao Si had his own separate courtyard.

At this moment, Zhao Si was painting in his courtyard.

Seeing Jiang Wang enter, he noisily wet his brush and began to paint with divine inspiration. The entire cityscape of Huncheng vividly sprang to life on the paper.

“I feel my painting skills have reached a new height. After three years of traversing every corner of Huncheng, meticulously capturing every detail, this masterpiece is finally complete. It will surely be remembered for generations!”

Jiang Wang, pondering Master Tao’s words, casually asked, “Could it sell for three taels of silver?”

Zhao Si instantly flushed with indignation. “How vulgar! Truly vulgar!”

Jiang Wang continued, “No matter how good the painting, if it doesn’t sell, we’ll starve to death. If I hadn’t kindly taken you in back then, your grave would be overgrown with weeds by now.”

Zhao Si was annoyed but had no retort.

He had indeed been starving to death then; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been selling paintings on the street.

He wasn’t sure if meeting Jiang Wang was good luck or bad fortune.

He remembered how disheveled he had looked back then, his exquisite paintings ignored by all until a strikingly handsome youth appeared, asking him to paint.

In a bad mood, he had deliberately made the portrait ugly.

Unexpectedly, it was praised.

He thought the youth was mad.

As it turned out, Jiang Wang was mad, and Zhao Si felt the same.

They had foolishly traded a lifetime of talent for a meal.

In nicer terms, he was the official painter for the young Marquis of Xunyang Mansion, but ultimately just a servant.

Jiang Wang had no idea what had just happened but suddenly asked, “Is Master Tao’s reputation real?”

Zhao Si didn’t look at Jiang Wang but answered, “Those with empty fame rarely last long, but Master Tao’s name has been prominent in Huncheng for over twenty years.”

“Five years ago, I personally witnessed Master Tao’s ability. The town’s governor was dying, and no famous doctor could save him. Yet Master Tao healed him with a single talisman, and now the governor is lively and well.”

Jiang Wang pondered deeply.

Regardless of whether Master Tao was truthful or if there was a connection to the sudden power he had acquired, he himself had only a few years left to live. Why worry?

If he could control that power, perhaps even embark on the path of cultivation and extend his life, it would be no bad thing.

Jiang Wang’s previously stirred emotions settled.

Suddenly, a tremor shook a part of Huncheng.

Several figures swiftly passed overhead, flying above Qixia Street.

Cultivators were rarely seen in Huncheng. Their appearance must mean something.

Jiang Wang left immediately, calling Xiao Yu, who was still practicing sword swings, and they stepped out of the mansion.

In a nearby dilapidated alley stood three men of markedly different dispositions.

Each carried a sword on their back and wore white, blue, and purple robes respectively, all appearing to be around middle age.

“There is indeed some strange residual energy here, but it is difficult to discern anything,” said the blue-robed cultivator, frowning as he scanned the surroundings.

The white-robed cultivator sighed. “We have never seen any immortal relics. We can only speculate based on records. But one thing is certain: the immortal’s arrival must have been on this very Qixia Street.”

The purple-robed cultivator suddenly asked, “What exactly does the arrival of an immortal look like? Does the immortal descend directly from the heavens, or are they born from a mortal womb?”

The white and blue-robed cultivators exchanged glances and shook their heads. “We do not know.”

Though there were many records about immortals, none were very detailed.

Not only ordinary people or common warriors, but even cultivators like them only knew there was an immortal in the Divine Capital.

But no one knew what that immortal looked like or where they came from.

Perhaps, the immortal in the Divine Capital did not even exist at all.