In the world of cultivation, one’s reputation and title were of the utmost importance and could never be cast aside lightly. When traveling away from home, even if one had never met strangers before, simply dropping one’s name was often enough to signal that one was not to be trifled with.
Though Li Jian had not practiced cultivation since childhood, he had at least read enough novels to understand these basic principles.
Besides, his words were hardly a bluff; even if Qi Jingyao didn’t suffer a bloody disaster on his own, Li Jian would personally ensure the pampered young master experienced what a genuine bloody disaster felt like.
“You”
Stupid as Qi Jingyao might be, he could still hear the thinly veiled threat in Li Jian’s words.
He was certain that if he dared utter even one more word, Li Jian would guarantee he experienced another public beating that left him bruised and swollen from head to toe.
The surrounding atmosphere abruptly plunged into silence. Amidst this tense standoff, the silk curtains at the bow of the pleasure boat swayed gently as a mesmerizing figure emerged from behind them, extending a slender hand while attendant maids on either side parted the drapery for her.
Li Jian raised his eyes to see the courtesan who had been dancing at the bow now standing at the doorway, smiling warmly as she looked inside.
This was none other than the new courtesan of the Changle House, Miss Qiushui, who had invited the young gentlemen to attend the banquet today.
The heavy atmosphere momentarily dissolved as Zhao Chengyu reacted with swift reflexes, pulling Qi Jingyao down and cordially inviting Miss Qiushui to be seated.
The others relaxed in unison, casting sidelong glances at Li Jian while pretending nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.
“I trust Qiushui hasn’t disturbed the refined leisure of the young masters?”
The delicate beauty offered a formal curtsy, her slender waist swaying like a willow in the wind. Dressed in a vibrant, enchanting peony-red long robe with a subtle floral mark painted between her brows, and her hair ornaments tinkling softly in the breeze, she looked precisely like a blooming peony flower standing amidst the pleasure boat.
Faced with such a gracious inquiry from a beauty, the young gentlemen could hardly bring themselves to show discourtesy. Zhao Chengyu responded with practiced ease:
“With such fair scenery and such a stunning beauty present, how could one speak of disturbed leisure? Being able to witness Miss Qiushui’s dance firsthand is truly our good fortune.”
The Changle House differed from ordinary brothels. Back in their ancestors’ era, the Changle House had served as an exclusive imperial institution for training royal dancers, where the women sold only their artistry rather than their bodies, holding themselves with considerable pride. Especially as the top courtesan, her status was exceptionally distinct, carrying even the rare opportunity to secure an audience with the reigning sovereign.
Though times had changed, a courtesan still commanded widespread adoration through her devastating appearance and peerless dancing skills. A thousand gold pieces spent casually might not even buy the privilege of witnessing a single dance, let alone receiving a personal invitation from the courtesan herself to join a pleasure cruise an opportunity countless people queued up for in vain.
Qiushui covered her mouth as she smiled, her gaze drifting casually past Song Zhiyuan seated opposite before she spoke: “Zhao Young Master flatters me. Since the young masters are willing to honor me with your presence, it is Qiushui’s absolute honor. If the young masters do not disdain my humble skills, Qiushui is willing to perform another dance to add to your enjoyment.”
“That would be wonderful.”
At Zhao Chengyu’s welcoming gesture, Qiushui lowered her gaze respectfully, turned, and stepped back out toward the bow. Moments later, the melodious notes of a zither rang out—clear and lingering like falling pearls striking a jade plate.
As the pleasure boat sailed halfway along its route, everyone redirected their attention to the woman at the bow, whose long sleeves fluttered as she moved with an alluring, enchanting grace.
Someone remarked that Miss Qiushui’s dancing style closely mirrored that of the previous top courtesan, Hongxiu, while her profile was even more peerlessly exquisite.
Zhao Chengyu took a sip of wine. “Qiushui’s dancing is certainly fine, but it feels somewhat derivative, as if cast from the exact same mold as Miss Hongxiu’s; there is nothing particularly novel about it.”
Having seemingly forgotten his earlier clash, Qi Jingyao nibbled on a pastry and chimed in: “They belong to the same training house and share the same instructors, so naturally there are similarities. Nothing strange about that.”
Hearing them mention Hongxiu, Li Jian suddenly recalled the gossip he had overheard along the riverbank the previous day and asked on a whim, “Is she truly that similar?”
Song Zhiyuan, who had been quietly sipping tea and watching the spectacle, raised his eyes and naturally took up the thread of conversation: “Indeed, the resemblance is striking.”
After the pleasure boat excursion concluded and they returned to shore, Li Jian initially assumed the matter of the courtesan was over and done with. Whether they looked alike or not had nothing to do with him anyway.
He intended to remain for only a few more days, waiting simply for the immortals of Mount Donglu to descend so he could escort Xuan Lang into the immortal sect and successfully wrap up his mission.
What Li Jian failed to anticipate, however, was that by the following day, the very same Liang Xiucai who was rumored to be infatuated solely with the courtesan Hongxiu would actually track them down to their doorstep.
Before noon, with the brilliant daylight casting down upon them from above, Li Jian had just finished a session of meditation, intending to find a way to further test the cultivation level of his current body.
Despite possessing fragments of the original owner’s memories and foundational power, he was fundamentally a modern person who had never practiced martial arts or magic in his past life. Curious to experience firsthand what cultivation felt like in practice, he couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of anticipation.
As Li Jian sat leaning against the window frame, Xuan Lang was busy preparing a meal in the small kitchen. Since the boy hadn’t noticed any movement from his end, Li Jian felt completely at ease channeling his internal energy, causing a pale stream of spiritual light to gather in the palm of his hand.
Closing his eyes tightly, he silently recited the incantation within his mind. In an instant, his dantian flared with brightness, as though an endless stream of warmth was surging outward from his energy center.
It felt like a truly wondrous sensation—almost as if he were floating on air.
Surrounding spiritual awareness drifted outward, floating aimlessly, when suddenly Li Jian’s brow twitched sharply, sensing a completely foreign presence intruding into his cultivated domain.
Flipping off the edge of the bed with agile speed, he teleported toward the doorway in a fraction of a second. The exact moment he opened the door, he caught sight of Xuan Lang poking his head out from the kitchen to investigate from the opposite direction, moving with a reaction speed that practically mirrored his own.
Whether it was mere coincidence or not, Li Jian experienced a fleeting instant of profound surprise: how on earth could Xuan Lang match his reaction speed, especially while he was actively releasing spiritual awareness and concentrating deeply on cultivation?
If this wasn’t pure coincidence, then the boy’s cultivation level must be terrifyingly formidable.
True to his identity as a descended incarnation of Immortal Lord Shiyuan, Li Jian mused, even an ordinary mortal vessel possessed such extraordinary reflexes.
Outside the small courtyard, a scholar-like figure was peering about cautiously, his dark hair bound by a plain cloth ribbon as he scanned the surroundings along the pathway.
Li Jian was seated beneath a towering banyan tree in the courtyard, where daylight filtered through the leaves, casting mottled patches of light and shadow across his features.
After waiting for a brief moment, sensing the footsteps drawing closer, Li Jian tilted his head to find a pair of round, inquisitive eyes staring right back at him in open curiosity.
The visitor wore an impeccably tailored scholar’s gown, carrying an air of refinement that set him apart from ordinary literati.
Glancing past Xuan Lang, the scholar’s gaze shifted to fixate upon Li Jian. Whatever thoughts crossed his mind, he remained well-behaved and stood properly at the doorway, displaying the customary manners of a cultured gentleman.
Cupping his hands toward Xuan Lang first and then turning toward Li Jian, the scholar spoke: “This humble person is Liang Xiucai from the East Street. Might I inquire if the gentleman seated here is the legendary Immortal Li?”
Straightening his posture with his wide sleeves resting across his lap, Li Jian asked, “What is the matter?”
Upon hearing that confirmation, Liang Xiucai immediately broke into a beaming smile, looking immensely relieved as though a heavy boulder had been lifted from his chest.
He readied himself to speak, then hesitated, feeling that standing out at the doorway might be discourteous or treat the immortal elder with disrespect.
“Um…” Liang Xiucai gestured vaguely toward himself, then pointed inward, speaking with palpable hesitation. “Would it… perhaps be convenient for me to step inside? I genuinely have a matter of utmost importance to discuss with the Immortal Elder, though I worry I might be intruding upon the two of you.”
Casting a sideways glance, Li Jian saw Xuan Lang set aside the items in his hands and nod slightly. “It is no trouble at all. Please, come in.”
“Ah, excellent, thank you.”
With that, Liang Xiucai lifted the hem of his gown and hurried inside. Xuan Lang guided him to a seat, poured him a cup of tea, and thoughtfully poured a cup for Li Jian as well.
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Liang Xiucai accepted the tea politely.
“I have long heard tales of Immortal Li’s great renown a true practitioner possessed of genuine magical powers. When I previously heard that the Immortal Elder was staying at the Qi residence, I intended to seek you out, but before I could make the trip, the Immortal Elder had already departed. Yesterday, a close friend of mine happened to be enjoying the scenery by the lakeside and heard that Immortal Li was residing here with Young Master Xuan, so he rushed back to inform me, and I hurried over at the earliest possible moment.”
In truth, Liang Xiucai had wanted to come yesterday evening, but fearing that a late-night visit might disturb the immortal elder’s rest, he had endured a sleepless night of agonizing torment before finally presenting himself at dawn.
Li Jian skimmed the surface of his tea with the lid. He had already had the household’s tea leaves replaced with the freshest, highest-grade variety available; emerald leaves floated atop ripples of water, swaying gently as his fingertips brushed the rim.
Taking a light sip, he found the quality quite acceptable.
Lifting his gaze, he asked directly, “So, what business brings you to my door?”
Leaning forward slightly while keeping his distance from the table, Liang Xiucai lowered his voice and whispered, “I have come… to beg the Immortal Elder to save a life.”
“Save a life? Whose life?” Li Jian knit his brows, a spark of genuine intrigue igniting within him.
Having just listened to a thorough recounting of local gossip yesterday, the protagonist of that very rumor had now appeared on his doorstep, specifically begging him to save someone. Li Jian hadn’t forgotten the precise role Liang Xiucai played in that scandalous tale.
The teacup before him remained untouched. Liang Xiucai clenched one hand into a fist—his fingers thin and dry, the knuckles so tightly compressed they turned stark white, carrying an intense, sharp edge.
Drawing a sharp breath with a slight hesitation, he darted anxious, sideways glances toward Li Jian.
After a brief silence, as if arriving at a heavy, agonizing resolution, Liang Xiucai inhaled deeply and stated:
“I beg the Immortal Elder… to help me seek justice for Hongxiu.”
“Hongxiu?”
As expected, Li Jian thought to himself. His intuition hadn’t missed the mark; it was indeed the bizarre disappearance of Hongxiu that had driven Liang Xiucai to seek him out.
Gritting his teeth so hard his clenched fists trembled, Liang Xiucai muttered, “Immortal Elder, let me tell you—there is a demon residing within the Changle House, a man-eating monster! I suspect… no, I am certain that Hongxiu was devoured by that demon, and that she never left to get married at all!”
Liating his claims with chilling certainty, Liang Xiucai stared fixedly at the two of them with a fierce gaze, as though he wished nothing more than to tear that monster limb from limb.
Beside them, the young man holding a teacup gave a sudden start, nearly sloshing the liquid over the rim. Flinging a quick sideways glance, Li Jian reached out to steady the cup and wipe away the stray droplets.
Seeing that Li Jian offered no immediate reaction, entirely focused instead on tending to his companion, Liang Xiucai assumed the immortal elder simply disbelieved him, prompting him to speak with rising panic:
“I am well aware that this sounds utterly absurd. But regarding matters concerning Hongxiu, I would never fabricate a lie. She was truly murdered by a demon!”
“None of the others believe a word I say, but you are an immortal elder surely you can understand the significance of my words, can you not?”
Li Jian met Liang Xiucai’s eyes, catching the faint, desperate glimmer of hope flickering within them.
Ever since discovering the truth, Liang Xiucai had attempted to voice his suspicions to those around him on numerous occasions, only to be met with universal disbelief.
He had even sought out various wandering Daoists and so-called practitioners passing through town, only to be dismissed either as a delusional madman suffering from lovesickness after being dumped, or as a convenient mark to be defrauded of heavy sums of money.
In the process, he had completely exhausted his family fortune, even handing over his Imperial Xiucai reward money to half-baked charlatans, all to no avail.
At present, Li Jian represented his absolute last shred of hope. If even Li Jian failed to comprehend or assist him, he truly had nowhere left to turn in his quest for justice.
Just as Liang Xiucai began to despair that Li Jian shared the skepticism of others, the man finally tilted his head and asked:
“What evidence do you have?”
A tone devoid of emotional fluctuation acting precisely like a beacon of light piercing through the dark night. Liang Xiucai’s eyes lit up once more as he spoke with intense solemnity:
“I refuse to believe Hongxiu would ever abandon me. Therefore, I secretly went to investigate; I am far too familiar with every contour of Hongxiu’s frame. The person currently occupying her identity is simply not Hongxiu she was murdered by that demon, and the monster assumed her form to replace her!”