The Changsun family was not originally a local noble clan in Yangyang City. It was only because the patriarch of the family served as an official in the capital, and their household had distant ties with the imperial family, that their status could be considered illustrious.
Later, as the patriarch grew advanced in years, he resigned from his official post and returned to his hometown, leading the entire family to relocate and settle in Yangyang City.
The Miss Changsun who was to be betrothed to the Zhao family this time was the eldest legitimate granddaughter of Old Master Changsun. Her grand-aunt was the late Princess Consort Chen, giving her a status that ordinary people simply could not match—which easily explained why the Zhao family was so eager to curry favor with them.
Old Master Zhao’s banquet for all the dignitaries and elites of Yangyang City was meant to serve as a witness for everyone: his Zhao family was about to climb a high branch in the capital.
Before the banquet had even begun, the courtyard was already packed with guests from various households. By the time Li Jian arrived, Zhao Chengyu was standing at the entrance welcoming guests alongside his father.
Spotting Li Jian, Zhao Chengyu eagerly stepped forward to greet him.
“Father, this is the Immortal Master Li I told you about the one who found the divine statue for the Qi family.”
Initially, Old Master Zhao had merely cast a sidelong glance at Li Jian, assuming he was some random freeloader looking for a free meal, and hadn’t planned to engage with him. But upon hearing his son’s introduction, his eyes lit up instantly, and the look he directed at Li Jian was filled with pleasant surprise.
“Ah, Immortal Master Li! Just looking at your bearing, old man, I could tell you were bound to be a talented youth of extraordinary capability.”
“Old Master Zhao flatters me too much. Zhao Eldest Young Master is the true paragon of youthful talent, unmatched in brilliance.” Having spent years as a corporate worker dealing with all sorts of leaders, Li Jian was well-versed in such conversational tactics, offering flattery with a modest, smiling nod.
Sure enough, fed with this sweet talk, Old Master Zhao beamed with delight, practically wishing he could recruit Li Jian under his command on the spot.
Old Master Zhao continued, “I wonder which sect Immortal Master Li studied under, and which grand disciple you are? Telling us might give us the honor of looking up to you.”
Li Jian maintained his modesty: “I am merely a rogue cultivator who happened to see injustice on the road—hardly any grand disciple.”
With just a few words, he had stroked Old Master Zhao’s ego to the point of floating on air. Having a cultivator show such deference to the Zhao family naturally brought immense glory.
Delighted, Old Master Zhao ushered Li Jian inside, mentioning that he would later seek him out for a couple of drinks.
Li Jian readily agreed, knowing full well that once Old Master Zhao got caught up in the socializing later, he would forget all about it. As he pulled Xuan Lang along to walk inside, Old Master Zhao’s peripheral vision caught sight of the figure in black.
“Hold on,” he said. “Isn’t this… that person from the Qi family? Why is he coming along with Immortal Master Li?”
There was a subtle tone of unwelcoming disdain in Old Master Zhao’s voice. He disliked this so-called “distant relative” of the Qi family, finding him unappealing and unworthy of being seen in public.
Everyone attending today’s banquet was a prominent and influential figure in Yangyang City; it made no sense for the Qi family to bring such a sub-par “relative.”
Besides, if their own family didn’t want to bring him, having Li Jian drag him along instead—what sort of message was that supposed to send?
Xuan Lang stopped in his tracks. Sensing the displeasure on Old Master Zhao’s face, he dared not continue moving forward.
Li Jian gripped his wrist, noticing the sudden shift in his demeanor, and smiled as he explained, “Old Master Zhao, Xuan Lang is accompanying me; he has nothing to do with the Qi family.”
“But this…”
Before Old Master Zhao could say anything more, Zhao Chengyu yanked him back, secretly shaking his head. “Father, I’ll explain everything to you later.”
With that brief hint, Old Master Zhao refrained from saying more. Zhao Chengyu, wearing an eager expression, politely escorted the two inside.
“My father wasn’t aware of your relationship. Please forgive the oversight.”
“It’s no trouble,” Li Jian replied.
Old Master Zhao’s attitude made it crystal clear that he was influenced by the Qi family’s treatment. And naturally so—how a family treated its own relatives dictated how outsiders viewed them. If even the Qi family didn’t value him and treated him merely like a servant, why would anyone else bother to show respect?
Yet Zhao Chengyu’s current reaction left Li Jian somewhat baffled.
When had Zhao Chengyu ever been this polite to him?
As Li Jian led Xuan Lang across the threshold, he suddenly felt a gaze fixated on him. Tilting his head, his peripheral vision swept past the figure following closely behind Zhao Chengyu.
A young master of tender years was staring at him. Clad in luxurious attire, there was not the slightest trace of a smile on his face, as though today’s grand banquet had nothing to do with him at all.
The youth merely glanced at him indifferently before being sternly urged to work by Zhao Chengyu. Falling behind by even a fraction of a second earned him a subtle nudge to the abdomen from Zhao Chengyu’s elbow. Frowning slightly, the youth turned and walked away.
When he looked back toward Li Jian, his eyes carried a hint of ominous meaning.
Taking it all in, Li Jian recognized that the adolescent was none other than Zhao Chengyu’s younger brother, Zhao Yuanxiu, if his memory served him right.
Song Zhiyuan had once mentioned to him that the Zhao family had two young masters. The legitimate eldest son, Zhao Chengyu, was Old Master Zhao’s precious treasure a typical spoiled young master who needed to be handled with indulgence should he ever say anything inappropriate.
Much like Qi Jingyao, yet somewhat different. Zhao Chengyu was far more sensible than Qi Jingyao, acting as an eldest son capable of supporting the family business.
However, Li Jian now harbored doubts about the “brotherly harmony” Song Zhiyuan had previously described.
The estate’s pageboys and servants were busy guiding arriving guests to their seats. Li Jian was escorted to the table assigned to the young masters. Unsurprisingly, he spotted Qi Jingyao rolling his eyes and Song Zhiyuan wearing his perennial, gentle smile toward him.
Seeing Li Jian arrive, Song Zhiyuan immediately stood up. Finding two vacant seats right beside him, he waved to indicate that Li Jian could sit there.
“Thank you, Young Master Song.”
Embarrassed by his politeness, Song Zhiyuan smiled wryly. “I didn’t expect Immortal Master Li to come today either. Had I known, I should have sent someone to fetch the two of you earlier.”
The distance from outside the city to the Zhao family estate in the East District wasn’t short; Li Jian must have spent quite a while bouncing around on that wooden cart to get here. In Song Zhiyuan’s eyes, an ethereal figure like Immortal Master Li shouldn’t have to suffer such hardships.
Just as Li Jian was about to say, “Young Master Song is too polite,” Qi Jingyao who had looked utterly disgruntled ever since the two of them sat down pursed his lips and sneered sarcastically:
“Since the Eldest Young Master of the Zhao family was willing to send an invitation, certain half-baked frauds naturally have to scurry over to sponge a free meal. Otherwise, they’d never get another chance.”
“They even brought along a parasite—how unlucky.”
Though his voice wasn’t loud, it was just enough for everyone at the table to hear clearly.
The person sitting next to Qi Jingyao tugged at his sleeve, signaling him not to speak recklessly. Everyone attending today was an important, high-status personage; he mustn’t let the Qi family lose face.
Qi Jingyao rolled his eyes up to the heavens, let out a heavy, nasal “Hmph,” and closed his mouth with extreme reluctance.
“I’m sorry, Immortal Master,” the person beside him murmured, lowering his head as he spoke to Li Jian.
Wearing a look of resignation, Xuan Lang stared nervously at Li Jian’s expression, terrified that his presence might have caused the Immortal Master to lose face as well.
He had never cared about Qi Jingyao’s sarcasm; his only concern was whether Li Jian would be implicated because of him.
The surrounding people remained silent, evidently accustomed to Qi Jingyao’s daily bullying of Xuan Lang. If there was a day he didn’t launch into taunts, people would probably find it unusual instead.
Li Jian, however, remained unbothered, tilting his head as he asked, “Why are you apologizing?”
Lowering his head, Xuan Lang gripped the cuff of his new robe until it crumpled into folds. “It’s all my fault that the Immortal Master has to endure Qi Jingyao’s cold treatment like this.”
Given that Li Jian was an immortal cultivator and considering Yangyang City’s deep reverence for the Dao he could freely walk among any household in the city without a soul daring to treat him with disrespect. Yet repeatedly, because of him, Li Jian had been subjected to sneers and mockery. Xuan Lang simply couldn’t bring himself to accept it.
Seeing him looking so pitiful and heart-wrenching, a surge of irritation flared up in Li Jian’s chest, and the look he cast toward Qi Jingyao carried a touch of genuine anger.
The person he was determined to protect was being bullied by this punk wasn’t that essentially slapping Li Jian across his own face?
An uncle could bear it, but an aunt certainly could not!
Others might tolerate Qi Jingyao out of regard for the Qi family’s standing, but Li Jian had no intention of coddling him.
Taking a deep breath, Li Jian smoothed his sleeve with deliberate composure and raised his voice slightly. “The person who made the mistake hasn’t even apologized—what right do you have to apologize?”
Li Jian directed those words straight at Qi Jingyao. Naturally, the young man sensed the hostility, but being a fledgling youth unacquainted with true danger, he still lifted his chin and glared fiercely back at Li Jian.
“What did you say?”
With a sharp thump, Qi Jingyao shoved his sleeves up and stood straight up, ignoring all attempts by his companions to hold him back.
“Li Jian, I’m only giving you face because of the Shiyuan Immortal Lord’s statue. Don’t go mistaking my courtesy for weakness, thinking that just because you slap on some pretentious immortal label, everyone else is going to be terrified of you!”
“Let me tell you, I’m not my father; I won’t buy into your load of ghost stories, and I certainly won’t be fooled by a half-baked phony Taoist priest like you!”
He shouted at the top of his lungs like a throwing-tantrum brat, instantly drawing the gazes of everyone in the vicinity.
Looking apologetic, Song Zhiyuan glanced at Li Jian before stepping in front of Qi Jingyao to scold him in a low voice.
“Qi Jingyao, stop acting out.”
Normally, Qi Jingyao hung on Song Zhiyuan’s every word, but today, with his stubborn temper flaring, he actually dared to brush Song Zhiyuan’s hand away.
“You always take his side,” he muttered resentfully.
Qi Jingyao simply couldn’t stomach seeing someone as peerless as Song Zhiyuan bowing and scraping to a fraud like Li Jian. Was this still the Song Zhiyuan he had always admired?
Helpless, Song Zhiyuan could only cup his hands toward Li Jian with an apologetic expression. “Immortal Master Li, Jingyao is just acting like a spoiled child and knows nothing. Please don’t hold it against him.”
“It’s nothing,” Li Jian waved a hand.
The youth remained entirely unyielding, refusing to sit down and continuing to throw a tantrum. As the crowd gathering to watch the spectacle grew larger, Li Jian originally hadn’t wanted to make a fuss, lest people accuse him of bullying others by leveraging his status.
However, he had now decided to teach the boy a lesson.
Therefore, he asked, “Does Young Master Qi believe that my identity as a cultivator is fake?”
Qi Jingyao stayed silent, but the look he cast him made his stance crystal clear: he refused to believe Li Jian was a true cultivator. If he were, how could he fail to see that Xuan Lang was a monster entirely different from them?
Thus, he firmly believed that Li Jian must be the exact same kind of monster as Xuan Lang!
Reaching into his Qiankun pouch, Li Jian casually pulled out an artifact and rested it on his open palm. “Since Young Master Qi doesn’t believe me, I’ll give you a chance to expose me.”
“What is it?” Qi Jingyao’s interest was instantly piqued.
Li Jian said, “The artifact in my hand is called the Soul-Catching Bell, designed specifically to capture human souls and minds. Only those with unwavering willpower can withstand its test. If Young Master Qi can endure a single round under my Soul-Catching Bell, I will admit to everyone here that I am a fake, and I will pack up and leave Yangyang City immediately. How does that sound?”
The Soul-Catching Bell was an immortal sect item. While it lacked offensive spiritual power and wouldn’t ordinarily harm people, once a mortal’s mind was captured and controlled by it, even if Li Jian tried to show mercy, Qi Jingyao would have his three souls and seven spirits scrambled, turning him into a useless idiot.
Li Jian had no intention of taking his life, but teaching him a lesson was entirely warranted.
Unaware of what the item truly was and assuming it was just another parlor trick meant to bluff people, Qi Jingyao eagerly stepped forward, telling Li Jian not to regret it later.
Smiling faintly, Li Jian shook his head, thinking to himself that this fellow truly was a fool. A mere mortal had no business matching the power of a magical artifact.
He wanted to give Qi Jingyao one last chance to back down, but the stubborn lad remained dead set on exposing him, refusing to turn back.
With a helpless sigh, Li Jian raised the Soul-Catching Bell in his hand and began channeling his energy. Just as he was about to activate it, an anxious voice rang out from beyond the crowd:
“Immortal Master Li, please show mercy…”
Li Jian’s hand froze mid-action at the call, though he didn’t pull back his spiritual energy just yet; the Soul-Catching Bell continued spinning steadily in mid-air. Panting heavily, Old Master Qi hurried forward and threw himself protectively in front of Qi Jingyao.
“Immortal Master Li, the boy is young, ignorant, and spoke rashly to offend you. Please raise your hand in mercy and spare my son’s life!”
Spare his life?
Just as Li Jian was wondering how Old Master Qi could possibly know that the spell would threaten Qi Jingyao’s life, he spotted Su Jiushan standing with his arms crossed in the outer ring of the crowd, wearing a gentle, polite smile toward him.
How coincidental every single time such a chaotic scene broke out, this legendary Valley Master Su was guaranteed to be present.
Shielded by his father, Qi Jingyao still refused to yield, poking his head out to protest. “Dad, just let him try! I refuse to believe he can actually do anything to me.”
“Shut your foolish mouth!” Old Master Qi barked furiously.
Qi Jingyao argued back, “Dad, have you forgotten? Valley Master Su himself calculated that I possess the destiny of an immortal cultivator; ordinary people can’t touch me! If he’s a fake, he won’t be able to affect me in the slightest!”
“Will you shut up?! What kind of occasion is this for you to throw tantrums and make a public spectacle of yourself!” Old Master Qi wore an expression of utter exasperation.
Hearing this, everything clicked into place for Li Jian. No wonder Qi Jingyao had been so arrogant and brazen in front of him he was relying on the fact that Su Jiushan had supposedly discerned extraordinary spiritual roots in him, making him confident he could rival any cultivator.
Did he really think having good spiritual roots was some rare, invincible gift? Without proper cultivation, it was utterly useless and couldn’t protect him for a lifetime—absurdly ridiculous.
However… privately probing a mortal’s spiritual roots was a direct violation of immortal sect rules.
Rumor had it that many years ago, an elder of a certain sect had secretly descended to the mortal realm to extract spiritual roots from mortals, stealing anyone’s spiritual energy to fuel his own cultivation, which nearly depleted all spiritual qi in the mortal realm. When the Master of Donglu Mountain discovered it, strict regulations were established to forbid the practice.
One could only wonder what scheme this worldly Valley Master Su was plotting.
Though Qi Jingyao had been chewed out furiously by his father, all the surrounding onlookers had witnessed the whole exchange: Qi Jingyao had been the one to provoke Li Jian first. Whether this conflict could be smoothly resolved now depended entirely on Li Jian’s attitude.
Li Jian had no intention of backing down immediately. He had already produced the artifact and laid down the wager; it made no sense to let the matter slide simply because someone cried, “He’s just an ignorant child.”
This wasn’t a game played by three-year-olds they were adults, and everyone needed to take responsibility for their own actions.
Still, out of respect for Old Master Zhao celebrating his grand birthday, Li Jian decided to prevent a joyous occasion from turning into a funeral, though he tacked on a small condition.
“Whether I forgive this or not depends entirely on Xuan Lang’s decision. As long as Qi Jingyao offers a sincere apology to Xuan Lang and Xuan Lang agrees to forgive him, I won’t pursue the matter any further.”
Otherwise, he would make Qi Jingyao understand quite clearly what genuine immortal dao arts truly looked like.
Since Li Jian had put it that way, he was essentially offering Old Master Qi a polite way out. No matter how displeased Qi Jingyao felt, he was ultimately forced by his father to turn toward Xuan Lang and offer an apology.
“S-sor-ry.”
It sounded like words forced out in a fit of stubborn defiance. Though devoid of sincerity, it was at least enough to help Xuan Lang reclaim a sliver of dignity.
With the interlude finally put to rest, Old Master Zhao smoothly smoothed things over, announcing the official start of the banquet. Everyone returned to their respective seats.
Standing quietly behind Li Jian as the crowd dispersed, Xuan Lang suddenly paused. Reaching out, he gently tugged at the hem of Li Jian’s outer robe and whispered, “Immortal Master, thank you.”
Ever since being taken in by the Qi family and living under someone else’s roof for the past decade, this was the very first time he had ever stood tall and held his head high in front of Qi Jingyao.
It was a strange, indescribable feeling, as though something warm had filled his entire chest.
Overflowing with lightness and true freedom.
Li Jian turned around. The gentle breeze lifted the strands of hair framing his forehead, fluttering the ends of his hair and the hem of his robes.
Bathed in golden sunlight, he smiled, the slight curve of his lips matching the direction of the breeze truly, a celestial being descending to the mortal realm could look no better than this.
Xuan Lang stared at him in a daze, suddenly remembering that night in Changle Pavilion when Li Jian had been drunk. He had draped himself over Xuan Lang’s back, his scorching breath brushing intimately against his skin, while his heart raced wildly and his ears buzzed, leaving him able to catch only those soft, murmured words:
“You know, you look like someone.”
“Like… my beloved.”