Chapter 32: Return to the Sect
Inside the carriage invisible to the others, Song Yan’s eyes flickered. He had thought that with his cultivation fallen, controlling the flying sword would be exceptionally difficult. To his surprise, apart from the spiritual energy consumption being somewhat taxing, it was nearly the same as before.
He wondered if it was because he was controlling a mundane mortal weapon.
Sigh.
The flying sword withdrew, circling through the air before landing precisely in Xie Xing’s sword sheath.
“I’ve said all there is to say.”
“Please do as you see fit.”
The injured black-clad man struggled to rise, clutching his wounded palm, and walked back into the crowd.
“…”
The black-clad leader’s gaze flickered.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and cupped his fists toward the carriage in a salute.
“Thank you, Immortal, for sparing our lives.”
Song Yan did not respond. The more he spoke, the more mistakes he might make—better to stay silent.
He naturally did not fear these mortal martial artists, but he still needed to guard against the Qin clan’s pursuit and retaliation.
What he regretted most now was thinking that walking among mortals would cause no trouble, and so he had revealed his true name before the Xie family.
“We were blind and did not know the Immortal was here. We have caused much offense. Please forgive us, Immortal.”
“Let’s go!”
The assassins were merely taking money to do a job. If it were just mortal martial artists, they could fight, but their opponent was clearly a cultivator—this was no longer within their mission’s scope.
The group of black-clad men quickly departed, and the dense forest returned to silence.
“Cough cough…”
Xie Xing had forced his internal energy just now and suffered some internal injuries. At this moment, he spat out a mouthful of stale blood.
“Grandpa Xie Xing!”
Xie Chuan and the other children got out of the carriage and gathered around Xie Xing.
Xie Chan brought a small medicine chest from the rear carriage, dragged it to Xie Xing’s side, and opened it.
“Cough cough…”
Xie Xing did not treat his wounds. Instead, he stumbled with the children to the carriage where Song Yan was and collapsed to his knees with a thud.
“Th… thank you, Immortal, for saving us.”
Song Yan channeled spiritual energy, gently lifting Xie Xing up. Specks of water-element spiritual qi circulated around his wounds.
Xie Xing felt his injuries gradually easing, his lips trembling, yet unable to utter a single word.
This was the power of an immortal!
“I’m merely repaying the kindness of sharing the ride. If you wish to thank someone, thank these children.”
“Your injuries are mostly healed. If there’s nothing else, we should continue on our way.”
Song Yan’s current cultivation had fallen—he was only at the first level of Qi Refining. Some of the more severe internal injuries could not be fully healed with a small amount of spiritual energy.
“Yes, thank you, Immortal Master.”
At Song Yan’s behest, the children still sat with him, but now they were all as silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to make a sound for fear of disturbing the “immortal.”
“Xie Chuan—what kind of spiritual root is it?”
Song Yan was the one who spoke first, breaking the silence in the carriage.
Xie Xing replied from the front: “To answer the Immortal Master, we don’t know yet. It was just that the other day, a patron from elsewhere was old friends with a Xie clan elder and stayed for a few days. During that time, he mentioned that Xiao Chuan has a spiritual root. As for the details, this old man doesn’t know either.”
That made sense. If that patron hadn’t explained, how would mortals know that spiritual roots came in different types?
“What about the other children? Have they all been examined?”
“That hasn’t been done.”
Xie Xing smiled bitterly: “However, our Xie family is no great household. Having Xiao Chuan alone, a talent for cultivation, already brings glory to our family. How could we possibly produce a second one…”
Song Yan said nothing. These were family matters, and he had no right to intervene.
…
They were already not far from Fufeng City. After the carriage traveled for about half an hour, they arrived at Fufeng City.
With Xie Xing handling matters along the way, they passed through the gates and entered the city without any obstruction.
Ning’an Inn.
Song Yan calmly stepped down from the carriage.
Seeing the restrained Xie family members lined up around him, he couldn’t help but feel it was somewhat strange.
“You gave me a ride in your carriage, and I blocked your enemies for you. Our fates are now fulfilled.”
“Until we meet again.”
Song Yan waved his hand, preparing to leave.
Once inside the city, there were many ways to quickly reach the vicinity of the sect.
“Immortal Master!”
Xie Chan seemed to have summoned all her courage and called out softly.
“Hmm?”
The little girl walked with somewhat timid steps to Song Yan’s side: “You saved me. Please accept this.”
She pulled the clay figure from behind her back and offered it to him.
Song Yan did not take it, but simply glanced at Xie Xing.
“This clay figure was a gift from your grandfather. Don’t you want it anymore?”
“It’s alright. You saved our lives. Grandpa said that when you receive kindness, you should repay it…”
“But you are an immortal… I don’t know when we’ll meet again…” “This is… my most precious thing. I’m giving it to you.”
Xie Xing’s lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to speak but hesitated. But hearing his granddaughter’s words, he still stammered: “Im… Immortal, please don’t be offended…”
“What this old man said earlier, about there being a peerless sword technique hidden inside the clay figure… was…”
“Was… was this old man’s fabrication.”
“This clay figure does have some mechanism—it can be opened. Inside, there is only a calligraphy scroll, and nothing else.”
“If the Immortal does not mind, please accept this gift from Chan’er.”
Seeing the sincere expressions of the Xie family, Song Yan nodded and accepted the exquisitely crafted clay figure.
“Very well, then I will accept this.”
Xie Chan ducked back into the crowd.
“Xie Chuan, when you reach the immortal mountain and the Daoist sect in the future, cultivate diligently. Perhaps we will meet again someday.”
Xie Chuan was overwhelmed by the favor, bowing repeatedly: “Thank you, Immortal Master, for your guidance.”
Actually, after saying this, Song Yan regretted it. If this boy’s talent was extraordinary and surpassed him in three to five years, if they truly met again, that would be somewhat awkward.
“Elder Xie, if there’s a chance, have all these children tested for spiritual roots as well.”
Those who survive great calamities are blessed with great fortune.
“Yes, yes.”
Song Yan waved his hand and vanished into the crowd.
Xie Chan gazed at the disappearing figure, her youthful face filled with determination.
…
Dongyuan Sect.
“The path of cultivation has always been against the heavens. It’s perfectly normal for disciples to encounter some accidents…”
In the Elder Hall, two elders sat around a chessboard, leisurely playing.
Qin Xijun lay on a hammock in the courtyard, toying with that jade seal she had handled for a long time.
“The Xuanyuan Sect is now deliberately or inadvertently pushing this matter onto our sect and the Lingfu Sect. They’re clinging to the incident of a mere outer disciple—it’s truly strange…”
In addition, Outer Affairs Elder Zhang Guangyuan and Artifact Hall Elder Yang Wenxuan sat on either side of the chessboard watching the game.
“Hmph, I say the Xuanyuan Sect has been throwing its weight around for a thousand years.”
One of the playing elders seemed somewhat angry. Though he hadn’t used a shred of spiritual energy, he slapped the chessboard so hard it clattered.
“That Shen Yu fellow, just looking at him makes me angry. Some inexplicable thing.”
“Easy now—this chessboard of mine is made of mundane jade. If you break it, none of us will be playing…”
The elder was pained: “Where did your cultivation of the heart go?”
“Mundane jade? Where did you get it?”
“A mortal lad gave it to me. Many years ago.”
The two played on, enjoying themselves with move after move.
“However…”
Yang Wenxuan suddenly shifted his tone: “That outer disciple named Song Yesheng, I heard he’s only at the fifth level of Qi Refining.”
The playing elder seemed to understand what he meant and paused mid-move.
“If this kid truly killed Wang Xi single-handedly…”
“How could he still be languishing in the outer sect?”
In truth, in the eyes of these elders, whether it was Wang Xi at the eighth level of Qi Refining or Song Yan at the fifth level, they were all mere insects of the world—just insects of different sizes.
“A prodigious young talent, or…”
“A demonic cultivator possessing a body.”
The elder opposite the chessboard owner conceded defeat by setting down his pieces.
“Only these two possibilities are possible.”
“Elder Qin!”
“Elder Qin!”
“What’s all the commotion about!?”
Qin Xijun raised an eyebrow: “Speak.”
“Uh…”
The gazes of the five elders in the courtyard all turned toward him, and the disciple immediately felt it hard to breathe.
“Junior Brother Song Yesheng he…”
“He’s come back.”