After bidding farewell to my Master, I returned to my living quarters, the Xianyun Pavilion, to pack lightly and change into a fresh set of clothes.
According to the setting of this novel, cultivators going out onto the streets were treated much like celebrities, adored and pursued by the crowd. Unless there were special circumstances, it was generally better to keep a low profile and not reveal one’s identity.
The original owner seemed rather fond of dressing up, as the wardrobe was crammed with all sorts of colorful garments. Knowing I was about to meet the male protagonist, Duan Qianyue, I didn’t have much enthusiasm to pick out an outfit, so I casually grabbed a black robe and changed into it.
While rummaging through the clothes just now, I found a small box hidden at the very bottom of the wardrobe. Driven by curiosity, I pulled it out.
It wasn’t very heavy, and the box was quite large, but the carvings on the lid were extremely delicate. It was probably worth a pretty penny.
The box wasn’t locked. Upon opening it, I found a jumble of miscellaneous little items: a bowl, strips of cloth, old clothes, and a jade pendant wrapped in brocade.
All the items inside combined were probably not even worth as much as that single piece of wrapping cloth.
Since the original owner was the legitimate son of the Prince of Luocheng, essentially the quintessential wealthy second-generation heir in modern terms, why on earth did he have the bizarre hobby of collecting junk?
From inside the box, I dug out a somewhat aged but appropriately sized dagger, tucked it into my sleeve, and then set off.
Before leaving the mountain gates, I ran into Yaoshuang, who was presumably the female protagonist of the original text.
I couldn’t really be blamed. Having just finished reading the novel, I couldn’t even be completely certain who the female protagonist was.
In the original text, her appearances were simply too sparse, and there were virtually no romance subplots involving her. The impression this novel gave me was that it was purely a face-slapping, power-up progression novel for the male protagonist.
He passed through a myriad of flowers without a single leaf touching his body. The only reason I figured she was the female protagonist was because, while reading, I had projected myself onto the male protagonist, viewing this girl as a white-moonlight-like presence, innocent and spirited.
The ending was that the male protagonist ascended to become a god, devoid of mortal emotions and desires, reigning supreme above all things, so naturally, he never achieved a proper happy ending with the heroine.
“Good thing I made it just in time,” Yaoshuang muttered to herself in secret, and then sweet-talkingly called out, “First Senior Brother.” It was obvious her intentions weren’t pure.
Seeing her reminded me of Yu Xin. Who wouldn’t want to tease a cute girl? But at that moment, I really wasn’t in the mood, and was even too lazy to force a smile. I just asked indifferently:
“What is it?”
“First Senior Brother, I haven’t gone out to play in so long. I want to go exterminate demons with you and Senior Brother Qianyue. Could you please put in a good word for me with Master?” Yaoshuang tugged gently at my sleeve, acting coquettishly.
“No,” I refused flatly without a second thought. Better to avoid extra trouble than to invite it, and I lifted my foot to head toward the mountain gate.
Yaoshuang didn’t chase after me. For a split second, the thought flashed through my mind: She isn’t going to cry, is she? Yet I felt not a shred of regret. The very next second, however, I heard Yaoshuang shouting:
“First Senior Brother, I want to eat the chestnut cakes from Tangchun Zhai, the beggar’s chicken from Cuiyu Pavilion, and the jujube puree pastries from Yueman Hall.”
As I stepped out of the mountain gate, I had a vague feeling that someone was following me. Whenever I stopped, the person stopped; when I quickened my pace, they quickened theirs. I suddenly shifted and hid behind a cluster of trees.
Sure enough, a figure popped out from behind shortly after, turning out to be a child of around eleven or twelve years old. Seeing that the person he was following had vanished, he looked around left and right in visible anxiety.
“Why are you following me?” I asked.
He showed not the slightest bit of cowardice or guilt as he replied, “I came to protect First Senior Brother.”
Though my internal energy was damaged, I was still the senior head disciple of the Starry Firmament Sect. If it were the original owner, he definitely would have thought this little brat was biting off more than he could chew. As for me, I found the kid somewhat endearingly clumsy and cute.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I hurried down the mountain. I wasn’t one for talking much, but the child chattered away endlessly.
From his chatter, I learned that the kid was named Chen Xiaowu, a newly admitted disciple. I searched my mind for the name Chen Xiaowu, but came up completely blank. It seemed he was just an utterly ordinary, minor background character.
As for the disciples of the Starry Firmament Sect, as long as they didn’t offend Duan Qianyue, they would all end up with a decent ending in the end.
At the foot of the mountain, a few scattered farmhouses could faintly be seen in the distance. The people living here all made a living by hunting, and raised some poultry in their courtyards. One of these houses was presumably where the original owner had stolen the rabbit.
Over the centuries, most people had moved down to the town. Living in such a remote place made purchasing daily necessities truly inconvenient.
Yet there were always those who believed that being at the foot of an immortal sect’s mountain meant good Feng Shui, and that they might just give birth to a child with spiritual roots.
“First Senior Brother, I’m hungry,” Chen Xiaowu suddenly blurted out.
I glanced at him, remembering that he was still just a child, and said:
“Ten-odd miles away is Jinyi Town. There’s food for sale in the town.”
“How much longer do we have to walk?” he asked.
“About half an hour, I suppose,” I lied casually, having actually no concept of the distance myself.
“Why aren’t we using sword flight? We could get there in half a cup of tea,” Chen Xiaowu said, his tone brimming with innocence.
I stared straight at him, wishing I could just give him a beating. I had assumed this little brat didn’t know how to fly a sword. It turned out we had been walking blindly for so long; otherwise, we would have reached Jinyi Town ages ago.
“What’s wrong, Senior Brother Yu? Is sword flight not allowed down the mountain either?” Seeing me stare at him, he asked, looking puzzled.
“If you know how, why didn’t you say so earlier?” I reached out and pinched his cheek, not holding back much on the strength. He let out an ouch and hurriedly rubbed the spot with his hand.
Then, he begged for mercy: “I was wrong. I was just too excited to see Senior Brother, and forgot.”
Though he wasn’t very old, his sword flight was remarkably steady, and it was indeed quite fun. Surrounded by drifting clouds while overlooking the mountain forests from above, my mood instantly became much more relaxed and cheerful.
I had Chen Xiaowu land in a deserted patch of woods a short distance away from the town to avoid exposing our identities and drawing unnecessary trouble.
By the time we reached the town, it was nearly dusk. The streets were lively, decked out in lanterns and colorful banners as if celebrating the New Year.
The food and toy stalls hadn’t packed up for the night yet. We found a roadside stall selling wontons and sat down to a bowl of piping hot wontons.
When paying the bill, I asked the vendor if he knew where the Waterside inn was. The vendor pointed down the street and said to walk straight along, and we would see it.
The Waterside was the finest inn in Jinyi Town. I remembered from the original text that the male protagonist frequently stayed here during his travels.
The buildings in the town were mostly one-story structures with roofs, but the Waterside stood three stories high. The first floor was for dining, while the second and third floors were for lodging, each containing over a dozen rooms.
For a town inn to be built on this scale showed just how many travelers passed through.
I asked the innkeeper if a gentleman by the surname of Duan had checked in. The innkeeper pondered for a moment and asked if the Duan gentleman possessed an immortal-like bearing. I thought of Duan Qianyue’s face, which certainly lived up to those words, and nodded.
“Young Master Duan went out this afternoon and hasn’t returned yet. When he arrives, I’ll pass the message along to him. And you are, Young Master?”
“My surname is Yu.”
The innkeeper’s expression morphed into one of astonishment. He trailed off mid-sentence, his attitude suddenly turning exceptionally deferential as he said, “Please, this way,” and personally escorted us up to a private room on the upper floor.
He even had people send up a large assortment of exquisitely crafted pastries. How could I have forgotten? The nobility in this book all shared the surname, Yu. That surname belonged exclusively to the imperial family, and commoners wouldn’t dare claim it. My mouth had truly moved faster than my brain.