Chapter 2: The Withered Old Monk

Blind Yan had come here under the decree of his sect to capture the traitor He Muqing and retrieve a supreme secret treasure belonging to the sect. However, this treasure was truly extraordinary; the moment Blind Yan accepted the mission, he had already harbored the intention of killing everyone involved to silence them and keep the treasure for himself.

At this moment, He Muqing was dead, and everyone in the town had been refined into wooden puppets by him, leaving not a single living soul. With no further scruples, Blind Yan arrived at the place where He Muqing had hidden the treasure, as revealed by his soul-searching technique. He muttered a spell and performed a hand seal with his right hand. Suddenly, a crystal-clear bead flew out from beneath the dilapidated house. The bead was half-black and half-white, with two-colored energies swirling slowly within it, head to tail; it looked quite extraordinary.

"So this is the Heavenly Mystery Bead." The thought that this bead was so mysterious that even the Sect Master hadn't had time to carefully investigate it before it fell into his own hands made him feel truly elated.

However, just at this moment, Blind Yan suddenly frowned and sighed softly, "It seems there is still one living soul left to eliminate."

Under the night sky.

A boy of about ten years old was walking on the streets of the small town; it was Liang Yan, who had just returned from Wenliang Mountain. Liang Yan had felt something strange outside the town just now—Huaiyuan Town was far too quiet tonight. After entering the town, this eerie feeling became even more intense. By the time he walked a little further, an expression of disbelief had appeared on Liang Yan's face.

He saw that the houses and courtyards, large and small, looked as if they had been struck by heavenly lightning; the roofs were shattered and dilapidated, and there was not a single person inside the rooms.

Liang Yan’s heart tightened, and he hurried toward his father’s house. When he reached his door, his hands trembled, and he seemed afraid to push it open.

Finally, he took a deep breath and gently pushed the small wooden door open. In an instant, he felt as if he had been struck by lightning, standing frozen on the spot.

Inside the room, a man in green clothes and a straw hat was slumped on the ground, his body withered as if his flesh and essence had been drained away, leaving only skin stretched over bone. His eyes were wide open; he had clearly been dead for some time.

"Father!" Liang Yan’s cry was heart-wrenching. He walked toward the corpse in a daze, as if he had lost his soul.

Ever since he could remember, he had relied on Liang Xuan for survival. When he was eight, Liang Xuan told him he wasn't his biological son, but had been found in a bamboo basket in the river.

Despite this, Liang Xuan treated him as his own, and Liang Yan had long since viewed him as his true father. Liang Xuan had never married, treating this one precious son as the apple of his eye. He only waited for the day he could raise him to adulthood, see him earn a degree, marry, and have children, and then his life would be without regrets.

But now, fate was cruel. He had only gone out for a trip, and his home had suffered such a catastrophe. Recalling every little detail of his life with his father, Liang Yan’s tears gushed forth. The pain of losing his closest kin made him feel that life was no longer worth living; it was as if the sky had collapsed.

Just then, a soft sigh came from behind him.

"Worldly affairs are impermanent, and fortune and misfortune are hard to predict. You need not take it too much to heart."

Liang Yan turned his head to see an old blind man standing outside the door—the very same one he had met on the mountain path earlier.

Liang Yan was still in a daze and didn't stop to think why the old man was here. He simply asked, "What crime did the people of Huaiyuan Town commit? We have lived here for generations and never done anything wicked. Why is Heaven so cruel as to let the people of this town suffer such a disaster?"

Blind Yan was silent for a moment before saying slowly, "Have you heard that an innocent man is guilty only because of his treasure? The residents of Huaiyuan Town were innocent; their only mistake was that a demon stole a treasure and hid it among them."

Liang Yan, who had been distraught, suddenly sobered up upon hearing this. He looked at Blind Yan and gave a bitter smile. "So that’s how it is. So that’s how it is. Compared to a treasure of the immortals, the lives of us mere mortals are indeed not worth mentioning. I just don't know who killed my father?"

Blind Yan seemed stunned for a moment, then looked at Liang Yan with deep meaning and said

"Heh heh, you’re a small child with a big mind. Don't worry, I have already dealt with the person who killed your father for you."

Liang Yan nodded after hearing this and said, "So I can set off on my way now?"

Blind Yan didn't speak, just stood with his hands behind his back and chuckled.

Liang Yan said nothing more. He turned around, knelt before his father’s remains, and silently kowtowed three times.

A fierce gust of wind whistled from behind, and suddenly, an incredibly scorching energy struck his body. His entire body’s tendons, bones, and flesh felt as if they were being steamed dry.

"Is this how I die..."

This was the last thought that crossed Liang Yan’s mind. At the very last moment before his eyes closed, he seemed to hear a compassionate Buddhist chant from outside the house, followed by a flash of golden light, and then he lost all consciousness.

He did not know how much time had passed when Liang Yan felt himself in a void of darkness. His whole body felt as if it were being torn apart, but then a gentle, warm current flowed through his limbs and bones, calming the pain. Suddenly, a cool breeze blew, and Liang Yan slowly opened his eyes.

What met his eyes was a simple room with a square table missing a corner, on which sat a set of ceramic teapots and cups. A painting hung on the wall, appearing to be a landscape of a traveler in the deep mountains. The entire room was slightly dilapidated, with dust covering many places, clearly having not been cleaned for a long time.

Another cool breeze blew. It was late autumn, and Liang Yan turned his head to see the window wide open. Outside, the sky was blue and the clouds were white—it was a crisp autumn day. But the image of his father’s tragic death surfaced in his mind again, and his heart felt as if it were being twisted by a knife.

"Sigh, the world is vast, and I don't know where to go from here."

Liang Yan sighed softly and got out of bed to walk outside.

Only after leaving the room did he realize this was a teahouse located on a wilderness post road; he had been in the back room on the first floor.

"How is it that there isn't a single person in this teahouse? Not to mention tea guests, I haven't even seen a waiter. This is truly strange!"

He muttered to himself while walking toward the main entrance. Once outside, he saw an old monk sitting cross-legged on a giant rock by the door. The old monk’s face was withered, his body gaunt like dead wood, and his gray monk’s robe looked as if it hadn't been washed in years. If not for the eyes he was slowly opening, he would have looked just like a corpse.

The old monk seemed to know what Liang Yan was thinking and said calmly, "Half a year ago, this area suffered a locust plague. The nearby villagers had no harvest, and mountain bandits came to commit evil, so this teahouse could no longer stay open. The proprietor and the waiters all fled."

Liang Yan was silent for a long time before tentatively asking, "This boy suffered a great disaster and should have been in the underworld by now. Was it you, Master, who righteously saved me?"

The old monk did not speak, but simply pressed his palms together, chanted a Buddhist name, and showed a look of compassion.

Liang Yan knew his guess was correct. He immediately took a large step forward, knelt before the old monk, and kowtowed three times. These three kowtows were solid and firm, causing his head to bleed.

The old monk’s expression changed, and he hurriedly said, "Little benefactor, there is no need for this."

After finishing the three kowtows, Liang Yan said loudly, "Master, since you were able to save me from that monster, you must be an immortal or a holy monk. I beg you to take me as your disciple and teach me the immortal arts."

The old monk sighed and said, "Why do you want to cultivate immortality?"

"Naturally, it is so that after I succeed in my cultivation, I can avenge the blood feud of the three hundred innocent people of Huaiyuan Town and my father!"

"The person who killed your father is already dead."

"The chief culprit is dead, but the accomplices remain!"

The old monk frowned and said, "Accomplices?"

"Hmph, the reason my father and the townspeople died so tragically is all because of the immortal-folk fighting for treasure. Although that blind man didn't personally kill my father, he was the one who instigated it. Furthermore, when immortals fight for treasure, mortals suffer. Even if my father hadn't died, once that blind man successfully seized the treasure, he would inevitably have killed everyone to silence them. My father would have had no way to survive regardless."

After hearing this, the old monk looked at Liang Yan again, thinking to himself, "This little child looks to be only ten years old, why is his personality so extreme? However, his mind is meticulous; he is not much worse than an adult!"

What the old monk didn't know was that Liang Yan had been eccentric since he was a child, perhaps even a bit too clever. When he was in Huaiyuan Town, he often caused trouble for the residents. The townspeople were simple and, seeing his pitiful background, didn't usually hold it against him, though occasionally when he provoked public anger, he would still get a beating from his father at home.

The old monk remained silent, placing his hand on top of Liang Yan’s head.

"This boy does have an immortal root, though his aptitude is quite average. However, my divine ability does not necessarily require heaven-defying talent to practice. And this boy is clever and intelligent, possessing great wisdom; he could indeed inherit my mantle. His background is miserable, and if no one looks after him, he likely won't live long." Thinking of his tragic encounter, he felt a moment of compassion.

"No! I have already taught one chaotic demon because of my poor judgment in taking disciples; what right do I have to take another? Besides, this boy has a very heavy aura of resentment; there will be no lack of killing in his future."

Thinking of his own wayward disciple, the old monk couldn't help but feel disheartened again.

Thus, he said calmly, "If I take you as my disciple, I must set three conditions: you must follow me to the sect to cultivate in seclusion for a hundred years, and you must never seek revenge on that person in the future."

"Then what is the use of me cultivating immortality?"

"Cultivating immortality is to attain the Dao and longevity; one must sever the causal ties of the mundane world."

Liang Yan suddenly widened his eyes and said, "A father's murder cannot go unavenged. I am afraid I cannot comply. Today, I thank you, Master, for saving my life. If there is an opportunity in the future, even if I am shattered to pieces, I will have no way to repay you! Farewell!"

After saying this, he bowed deeply to him and actually turned to head toward the east of the main road.

"This boy..."

The old monk pressed his palms together and gave a bitter smile. He did not try to stop him, but watched his retreating figure.

Liang Yan walked alone on the post road, thinking of his foster father’s tragic death, and felt a wave of sorrow in his heart.

"Sigh, the world is vast, and the traces of immortals are elusive. As a mortal boy, how can I find this shred of immortal fate? Not to mention seeking revenge later. I used to hear that wandering Taoist brag about immortals in the world, and I didn't believe it. Now that I've witnessed it with my own eyes, I never expected it to be such a tragic affair..."

As he thought, his stomach let out a growl. It turned out that after walking for so long, it was already noon without him realizing it.

"It seems I should solve the problem of 'Brother Stomach' first."

Liang Yan had learned martial arts from the instructor in the town’s martial arts hall since he was a child and possessed quite a bit of skill. He decided to go into the forest to hunt some game first.

Not long after, in a spot in the forest, a wild rabbit was roasting over a campfire, steaming hot. A boy in gray clothes was holding a rabbit leg and chewing greedily; this person was Liang Yan.

Half a wild rabbit down, Liang Yan was just feeling satisfied when he suddenly heard a faint sound. Having practiced martial arts since childhood, he knew this was the sound of weapons clashing. Someone was fighting nearby. He didn't care about the rabbit anymore, hurriedly extinguished the campfire, covered it with dirt, and then tiptoed toward the direction the sound was coming from.

He hadn't gone far when he faintly heard shouting and cursing. Liang Yan pushed aside a corner of the bushes and looked toward the center.

He saw a swordsman in blue clothes holding a dragon-patterned longsword, fighting four black-clad mountain bandits alone. Although the blue-clad swordsman was one against four, he was not at a disadvantage at all. His longsword flew up and down, actually leaving trails of afterimages in the air. One of the bandits had blood dripping from his left arm, clearly having suffered a not-insignificant injury.

Liang Yan was secretly shocked. With this swordsman’s skills, he could be considered a top-tier expert in the martial arts world. He wondered why he was being hunted.

Just then, the blue-clad swordsman swept the four people away with one sword, flipped backward, and said calmly, "Is this all the strength you lackeys have? Do you think you can plot against my young mistress with just this?"

"Heh heh, 'Lightning Sword' Zuo Feiquan truly lives up to his reputation. It’s a pity you know things you shouldn't; you will definitely die today!"

The one who said this was not one of the four bandits, but two more people who had walked out of the forest—one tall and one short. The one who spoke was the tall one. The previous four bandits seemed to treat these two as their leaders.

Seeing two more skilled fighters, the blue-clad swordsman couldn't help but feel anxious. Without waiting for them to react, he struck like lightning toward the tall one, wanting to use offense as defense, kill one by surprise, and then escape in the chaos.

The tall bandit snorted coldly, flipped his hand to draw a long saber to meet him, and the short bandit also drew a copper hammer to join the fray.

The blue-clad swordsman became more and more alarmed as he fought. Even one-on-one, the martial arts of either of these two were not below his own. Now that he was one against two, he showed signs of defeat in less than thirty moves.

"When did such powerful bandits appear in the martial arts world?" He was puzzled, but didn't dare to think too much, desperately seeking a way to escape.

Just at this moment, a small blue knife flew out from the forest, its blue light dazzling. It cut through all the trees in its path, and with its remaining momentum, it headed straight for the blue-clad swordsman.

The swordsman was terrified and hurriedly swung his sword to block, but the dragon-patterned longsword was sliced through by the small blue knife as if it were made of paper, breaking into two pieces.

With a *pfft*, the small blue knife pierced the swordsman’s throat, leaving only the hilt sticking out. The blue-clad swordsman stared at the hilt in his throat with an expression of disbelief and slowly fell down.

At this time, a young man walked out of the forest, dressed in a purple robe and covered in gold and silver, looking like a wealthy squire from the city.

The rest of the bandits saw him and immediately looked respectful, bowing their heads and cupping their hands, shouting, "The leader is mighty and invincible!"

The purple-robed youth seemed to enjoy it very much, squinting his eyes and snorting, "A bunch of trash, I let you handle a small task and you can't even do that well. This person was a retainer from their manor, specifically scouting the path ahead. He found out about our plan by chance; how could you let him escape?"

The bandits were sweating profusely. "This subordinate failed to handle the task well. Please, Leader, show mercy and let us make up for our crimes!"

The purple-robed youth waved his hand. "Forget it, the big matter is important. If we finish this job, who knows how much gold and silver awaits us."

He paused and asked, "Has the surrounding area been scouted clearly?"

The tall bandit immediately replied, "Everything has been scouted. Not far ahead, there is a teahouse that has been abandoned for a long time. We can follow the plan, disguise ourselves as waiters, and ambush them."

"Hmm, if that teahouse is empty, so be it. If there are people, kill them all; we cannot let any news leak out. Cheng Lao-er, go gather the horses. After we eat, we leave immediately. Once we arrive, act according to the plan."

"Understood, Leader!" The tall bandit replied, then revealed a lecherous expression, chuckling, "Boss, there are a few chicks among that group with decent looks. When the time comes, we brothers must enjoy ourselves properly."

The purple-robed youth also had a lecherous glint in his eyes and nodded at him knowingly.

The short bandit seemed to have doubts and asked, "Boss, actually I am very puzzled. Why go to such great lengths to design an ambush? With your immortal means, you could just make sure they never return."

"Hmph, Shi Lao-san, are you getting too big for your boots?"

"This subordinate wouldn't dare." Shi Lao-san hurriedly lowered his head.

The purple-robed youth snorted, "There is an expert among them with high martial arts, having reached the realm of internal energy projection. Even against us immortals, he has the power to fight. You must not be careless."

In fact, this purple-robed youth was an illegitimate son of an immortal cultivation family named Chen Lin. His spiritual roots were extremely poor, and since childhood, he had no heart for cultivation, instead craving worldly pleasures, especially gold, silver, and women. After coming of age, he was expelled from the family, so he became a bandit here. With his Qi Refining Level 1 cultivation, he lived quite comfortably; apart from some internal martial arts experts, it was difficult for anyone in the mundane world to threaten him.

Seeing these bandits take out their bags and start a fire to cook, Liang Yan carefully retreated.

"Oh no, these people are going to the teahouse later. I wonder if the old monk will be okay there?"

Although he knew the old monk was not an ordinary person, Liang Yan had never seen immortals fight, nor had he seen the old monk or Blind Yan and the others take action.

In his view, the blue-clad swordsman from just now was already a top-tier expert, yet he couldn't even last one move in front of this purple-robed youth. He felt uneasy, estimating that the old monk probably wasn't his match either.

"Sigh, although the old monk refused to take me as a disciple, he saved my life after all. If I know about this and don't report it, wouldn't I just be watching him die?"

"Although this group has horses, they still need to cook and eat. I might be able to arrive before them. If I can persuade the monk to leave, it will count as saving his life, and we will be even."

Liang Yan had made up his mind. He immediately exerted force in his feet and sprinted toward the teahouse.