Chapter 13: Demonic Cultivator
Shiliang Town was located in Feng’an Prefecture in the southeastern part of Qizhou, one of the more remote regions of Chu. But compared to other frontier backwaters, Shiliang Town was fortunate.
The freezing cold of the Great Heavenly Mountains to the south did not spread here, and the skirmishes between the small nations and tribes to the west had not reached it either.
It was only close to the State of Yue to the east, but between them lay an enormous, insurmountable chasm. People of the two nations would never meet each other in their lifetimes, let alone come into conflict—there was simply no possibility of friction.
Moreover, it bordered Linzhou, with well-maintained official roads.
Because of this, Shiliang Town’s development was not at all backward.
During festivals and holidays, the lantern fairs and markets were probably among the liveliest places in all of Feng’an Prefecture.
Song Yan walked slowly through the town, occasionally greeting acquaintances.
“Candied hawthorns—ice towers—”
“Take a look, have a look—sundries from north and south—”
“Old Liu, where did you get all this random junk again…”
“Tch, listen to you talk…”
“Hey, customers! Combs from Dongyuan Village, clay figurines from Nanhong City, Buddhist carvings from Xiqi River, flower seeds from North Watch Mountain—whatever you want, dig through the boxes yourself…”
At a roadside teahouse, a storyteller spoke with effortless eloquence.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the world is quite lively these days. Last time we spoke of the Imperial Kitchen’s head chef, known as the Divine Cook of the Capital, Li Lianxiu, who was accused of conspiring with the enemy and selling out the nation. His entire family was executed…”
“Today, I shall tell you about Chu’s youngest young general, Li Yi, the Marquis of Yan, who died in battle at the frontier at the age of only eighteen…”
“Oh, how many of you? Alright, three in the east wing room—hey, customers, please come inside—”
The young waiter at the inn had sharp eyes and spotted Song Yan.
“Oh, Doctor Song! Uh… hey, look at my mouth—Immortal Song.”
“Go on, go on… is Ah Nian here?”
The waiter, Huang Dou, was an old acquaintance of Song Yan’s. Nothing seemed to have changed.
“He’s not in. Haven’t seen him today—ah!”
Huang Dou suddenly slapped his forehead. “Look at my memory. He should be at the Meng family clinic today.”
“Constable Ling is off duty these days. Young Nian is with his master at the clinic.”
“Ah, thank you.”
“Take care.”
At that time, Grandfather had already passed away, and Song Yan, this divine physician’s disciple, had been brought into the immortal sect to cultivate by Zhao Fengcheng. In the beginning, some people had worried about how they would seek medical treatment in the future.
Fortunately, there was another doctor in town.
Passing through the market and the crowds, Song Yan looked up. Before the house hung a worn and mottled signboard.
Meng Family Clinic.
Song Yan stepped inside.
“You’re here, Yesheng.”
“Uncle Meng, I’m about to return to the sect. I have something to discuss with Ah Nian.”
“Oh, Constable Ling and the others are all in the back courtyard. Lulu and Darong are applying medicine to them.”
“Alright.”
In the back courtyard, Xu Darong and Meng Lu had just finished applying medicine to the two constables, one old and one young, and were packing up their things.
“Constable Ling.”
“Yesheng.”
Seeing Song Yan, Constable Ling smiled faintly. “I heard all about yesterday from Ah Nian and Yun’er. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Song Yan pulled Sheng Nian aside and led him out of the clinic.
“You shouldn’t have known that Xinshan Hermit before, right?”
“Never even heard of him.”
Sheng Nian waved his hand. “I’m just a mortal. How would I know about the affairs of you cultivators?”
“But it seems the people he sent to Shiliang were targeting you…”
“?”
Sheng Nian’s gaze sharpened. He was about to deny it, but suddenly stopped and looked up at Song Yan.
“Those three are dead?”
“…”
“Killed by you?”
Song Yan pondered for a moment, then nodded.
“Good.” Sheng Nian simply nodded as well. “Master will be promoted to the Six Doors soon. When that happens, I will leave Shiliang.”
“Where will you go?” “Anywhere is fine.”
“If you get the chance, take that disciple token and try your luck at the Sun-Shooting Sect.”
These words, Song Yan used a small technique.
A secret voice transmission—even with ears listening from beyond the wall, no one else would hear it.
Sheng Nian looked thoughtful, but did not nod.
Song Yan waved his sleeve. “I’m heading back.”
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to them?”
“I’d rather not. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make myself leave…”
…
…
“Demons?”
Eastern Abyss Sect, Outer Disciple Affairs Hall.
Lin Qing’s brow was deeply furrowed as he stared at the bloodstained page and three pitch-black nails in his hand, lost in thought.
“If this is truly the case, this mission of yours should be considered a great merit.”
Indeed, Song Yan was a bit stingy—he had only handed over three nails. This was only because he had needed to explain the course of events that he brought them out at all.
Three villagers from Yunding Village had gone missing. The Eastern Abyss Sect could easily look into such matters. If he tried to hide things, they might trace it back and find him guilty of concealing demonic cultivator items. That would be trouble.
Better to be safe. He would simply lay everything out honestly.
Lin Qing took a blank jade slip from his Qiankun Bag and handed it to Song Yan.
“Junior Brother Song, record the entire course of events in this. I will report it to the sect elders immediately.”
“Yes.”
The whole process did not take long before Lin Qing left with a hurried expression.
Song Yan tallied his mission rewards and left the Outer Disciple Affairs Hall.
“The mission itself gave ten spirit stones and ten sect contribution points, which was already quite good. The demonic cultivator information earned an extra ten contribution points—I hadn’t expected that.”
Cultivation resources came in many varieties: pills, talismans, formations, magical artifacts, spirit stones, techniques, and more…
Sect contribution points were perhaps one of the hardest currencies for sect disciples to come by.
With enough contribution points, one could exchange them for any of the aforementioned cultivation resources within the sect.
Of course, the prerequisite was that the sect actually had the item.
Previously, Song Yan had only been doing ordinary sect chores methodically. The contribution points he had accumulated were not many. Including the twenty from today, he only had a total of forty-eight sect contribution points.
It was certainly not a lot, but it was also not so little that it couldn’t buy quite a few good things.
No rush. He would save them first and spend when needed.
Song Yan headed straight for the Lingyuan Marsh Market without stopping.
“Grandma Qin!”
Qin Xijun was reclining in a wicker chair, taking an afternoon nap in an undignified posture. Before Song Yan even stepped into the Worry-Free General Store, he was already shouting.
“Oh my! You brat, why are you shouting so loudly?!”
“You nearly scared this old woman to death…”
Song Yan seemed to realize something and carefully looked around. Fortunately, the place was remote, and there was no one around.
He walked into the general store, casually closed the door, and even locked it.
“You… you… what are you doing?”
Qin Xijun was somewhat bewildered. “Did you steal the sect master’s wife?”
“…”
This time it was Song Yan’s turn to be speechless.
Fine, he would get straight to the point. Song Yan slapped his Qiankun Bag and poured out all those unsavory items in one go, arranging them one by one on the small counter.
“Hmm? Yin Puppet Revival Nails? Why are there only two…”
“This is… Spirit Transformation Blood Pill? And the pill recipe?”
“These thick paper sheets seem to be materials for low-grade paper puppets…”
Qin Xijun grew more alarmed the more she looked. These things were usually items only demonic cultivators would use. How had this kid gotten mixed up with demonic cultivators after just one trip down the mountain?
The more Song Yan listened, the more impressed he became. Grandma Qin truly was well-informed—she recognized everything. This saved him a great deal of explanation and effort.
After all, Grandma Qin would not shortchange him when it came to prices.