Immortal Paladin

Ren Xun knew Gu Jie was right. They had gotten carried away. He had gotten carried away.

He had only given the bracelet with the little jade magatama to look good in front of the Master. A small token, nothing too extravagant—just enough to leave a good impression. But then Gu Jie had to go and one-up him, pulling out a magical scroll like it was nothing. And Lu Gao? That guy went completely over the top, gifting a storage ring. A storage ring.

It was overkill. Completely unnecessary.

Ren Xun had expected Hei Mao to react with awe at Lu Gao’s gift or maybe marvel at Gu Jie’s scroll. Instead, the boy—this strange boy with powerful cultivation who was just as odd as Da Wei—clutched the bracelet Ren Xun had given him and said, “I like the bracelet the most.”

Ren Xun blinked. What?

Of all the gifts, the bracelet was the most useless. A simple trinket. Nothing special. It didn’t even have any practical function! The scroll granted invisibility. The storage ring could hold an entire armory’s worth of items. But the bracelet? Just decoration.

Hei Mao looked up at him with starry eyes, his expression full of gratitude. Ren Xun shifted uncomfortably under the attention.

Then, as if suddenly realizing he might be sidelining the others, Hei Mao quickly added, “Of course, I loved the gifts from you too, Gu Jie, Lu Gao… Thank you!”

Gu Jie chuckled, amused. Lu Gao just smirked.

Ren Xun sighed internally. He had been trying to impress Master Da Wei, but somehow, he had ended up impressing Hei Mao instead.

“You are welcome, little Mao. We appreciate you liked our gifts!”

Ren Xun knew he shouldn’t be here.

The reason for his presence wasn’t camaraderie, nor was it some newfound sense of belonging. He was here to spy. To observe. To report back. To make sure that Master Da Wei wouldn’t accidentally annihilate a Sect loyal to the Empire.

There was no delusion in his mind—he wasn’t here to make friends. If he performed to his father’s satisfaction, he might finally secure his engagement to Lin Lim. ‘The life I envisioned for myself…’ A comfortable one. A life where he wouldn’t have to worry about the expectations of being a cultivator or royalty.

Because Ren Xun wasn’t one. Not really.

At heart, he knew what he was.

A wastrel, an untalented cultivator, a man born into a world of martial prowess without the ability to carve a place in it. He had long given up on that path. Instead, he honed a different skill—the art of words. He had learned how to talk his way out of things, how to feign sincerity, how to deflect prying eyes, especially when he was playing hooky.

And right now, he was ingratiating himself shamelessly.

He offered Hei Mao a warm, knowing smile and gestured toward the bracelet. “The magatama represents good fortune,” he explained smoothly. “It’s a ward against evil, symbolically speaking. Keep it always on your side and even ghosts will flee you!”

“Really?” Hei Mao’s eyes flickered with interest, fingers brushing over the small jade charm. His cultivation was impressive, that much was clear, but at the end of the day, he was still a boy. Curious. Easily swayed by meaning.

“It might not be as grand as a storage ring or a magic scroll, but sometimes, the simplest things hold the greatest value,” said Ren Xun.

Ren Xun watched as Gu Jie carefully brought out the bowlfish—Ren Jingyi, their so-called ”companion.” The tiny goldfish stared up at Hei Mao with wide, unblinking eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a dullard trying to form words.

”This is Ren Jingyi,” Gu Jie introduced with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

Hei Mao blinked, then suddenly burst into laughter.

Ren Xun arched a brow. ”What’s so funny?”

Hei Mao wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. ”She just made a joke!” He pointed at Ren Jingyi, looking utterly delighted. ”That’s her gift to me!”

Ren Xun kept his expression smooth, though internally, he was biting back every cynical remark that came to mind.

Then, as if a realization struck him, Hei Mao’s eyes widened. ”Wait—” He looked between them all in growing amazement. ”I can talk to fish!”

Ren Xun sighed through his nose, pressing a finger to his temple. No shit.

There was no denying it anymore—this boy was just as weird as Master Da Wei.

Da Wei strolled over, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation as he scooped up the bowlfish. 

”Hmm,” Da Wei mused, tilting the bowl slightly to get a better look at Ren Jingyi. ”Probably the effect of Hei Mao’s constitution as a Holy Spirit. Maybe? I can’t tell...”

Again, that term. 

Ren Xun resisted the urge to frown. Holy Spirit. He’d never heard of it before, not in the texts, not in court, not even in the obscure cultivation manuals he’d skimmed while pretending to study. A lot of terms the Master used were unfamiliar.

Lu Gao, on the other hand, was focused on something else entirely. ”The goldfish gained the spark?” he asked, blinking in genuine surprise. “Huh? I am kind of surprised and not surprised at the same time.”

The spark. Now that was a term Ren Xun knew—an old concept referring to the hidden wisdom present in all living beings, a sign of potential intelligence beyond mere instinct.

Gu Jie crossed her arms. ”She doesn’t seem that smart.”

Lu Gao turned to her, affronted. ”She’s plenty smart! She can cast Bless, can’t she?”

Ren Xun barely concealed his amusement. After all, Lu Gao was treating a goldfish as his rival.

Truly, this group was beyond salvation.

Da Wei crouched next to the bowl, talking to the goldfish like a madman.

“Come on, little one. Say something. Anything,” he coaxed, tapping lightly on the glass. “You talked to Hei Mao, didn’t you? Why not me? I’m your Master—” He cut himself off, gasping dramatically. “Wait. Don’t tell me… you’re broken?!”

Ren Xun resisted the urge to sigh. Master Da Wei, the ever-dignified cultivator… was arguing with a fish.

Lu Gao walked over and leaned down to stare at the goldfish in silent judgment. Meanwhile, Da Wei had started feeding Ren Jingyi small bits of lettuce, as if bribing her would earn her favor.

Hei Mao became the reluctant interpreter and relayed, “Uh… She’s tired of lettuce.”

Da Wei shot him a betrayed look. “What?!”

“She says she’s sick of it,” Hei Mao added.

Da Wei turned back to Ren Jingyi with wide eyes, utterly scandalized. “Then why didn’t you say anything?! I’ve been giving you lettuce for days!”

Ren Xun observed the exchange with mild interest. By now, he assumed Da Wei was using Qi Speech to communicate with the fish, but if that were the case, it clearly wasn’t working.

Da Wei narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Hei Mao, why isn’t she talking to me?”

Hei Mao hesitated for a moment before sighing. “She’s, um… disappointed in herself for not being able to meet your expectations. And, uh… she’s a bit shy.”

Silence.

Da Wei pressed a hand to his chest, looking as though he’d been personally wounded. “Jingyi, my dear, I never had expectations. You just have to be yourself, okay?”

The fish didn’t respond.

Da Wei groaned. “Unbelievable.”

Lu Gao looked at Hei Mao. “Ask her what she wants to eat.”

Hei Mao translated. After a brief pause, he looked up and said, “Anything but lettuce.”

Gu Jie turned to Ren Xun with an inquiring look. “Can we make a detour?”

Ren Xun arched a brow at her before shrugging. “Depends where.” Without another word, he hopped onto the Floating Dragon and moved to the control panel, fingers dancing over the instruments as he examined the radar.

At the far edge of the map, a cluster of messy, multicolored dots indicated a city. The chaotic blend of hues represented the five elements—Earth, Fire, Water, Wood, and Metal—signaling a bustling settlement with a variety of people, cultivators, and businesses.

Peering over the edge of the boat, he shouted back to the group, “There’s a city nearby! It won’t hurt our schedule if we make a detour. If we’re lucky, we might even get to stay in a nice inn.”

Da Wei, who had been wholly engrossed in feeding Ren Jingyi, barely glanced up. “Sure, why not?” he said lazily, as if granting divine permission. He then pulled out an expensive-looking herb from seemingly nowhere and held it over the fishbowl, inspecting it with great interest before dropping it in.

Ren Xun watched in muted horror as the rare herb—one that would sell for a small fortune—sank into the water like fish food. His eye twitched.

Ridiculous.

While Da Wei and Hei Mao played around with the fish, Ren Xun, Lu Gao, and Gu Jie got to work packing up the rest of the camp. They moved efficiently, accustomed to breaking camp in a timely manner, though Ren Xun couldn’t help but cast the occasional glance at the truly absurd sight of Master Da Wei fussing over a goldfish.

He tightened the straps on a pack and huffed. Must be nice having high cultivation.

Scratch that.

Must be nice being the fish.

Ren Xun leaped onto the Floating Dragon, his movements practiced and precise. The deck barely creaked beneath his weight as he landed.

Behind him, Gu Jie followed suit—except she wasn’t alone. She carried Lu Gao effortlessly, one arm hooked under his back and the other under his knees.

Lu Gao, despite being a proud young master, dangled in her grasp like a sack of rice. His face was stiff with embarrassment. “This is humiliating,” he muttered under his breath. 

Gu Jie, unbothered, dropped him onto the deck with minimal effort. “You’re welcome.”

Lu Gao grumbled but dusted himself off. “…Thank you.”

Without further delay, the three of them moved in unison to prepare for departure. Ren Xun focused on unhooking the Floating Dragon from the surrounding landscape, removing the sturdy ropes and talismans anchoring it to trees and dirt. Gu Jie and Lu Gao worked alongside him, their motions quick and efficient.

Once the ship was freed, Ren Xun stepped over to the side of the deck and reached for the anchor. Gripping the thick chain, he hauled it up with a grunt, feeling the strain in his arms. It took a moment, but with a final pull, the anchor was secured.

He peered over the edge of the boat and called out, “Master Da Wei! We’re ready to set off. If we maintain speed, we should reach the next city in two to three hours.”

Da Wei secured Ren Jingyi’s bowl with one hand and grabbed Hei Mao by the collar with the other. “Alright, time to go,” he said cheerfully, before bending his knees and leaping onto the deck with ease. Hei Mao let out a startled yelp, flailing mid-air before landing with a thud.

Ren Xun placed his hands on the control panel.

The Floating Dragon was an extension of himself—its formations, its flight, all tethered to him through a spiritual connection. With a simple thought, he could activate or deactivate its many features, from basic flight controls to the more advanced defensive mechanisms.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit showy. He tapped a few runes on the panel, adjusting the settings with an exaggerated air of focus. It made him look hardworking if nothing else.

A soft pulse ran through the deck as the ship responded, lifting slightly off the ground. Ren Xun smirked to himself. He might not be the strongest cultivator, but he had his talents.

As he checked the ship’s status, his gaze landed on the invisibility formation. It had fully recharged overnight, meaning they could stay hidden for a full week if needed. A convenient but expensive feature—his spiritual stones were dwindling fast.

He turned to Da Wei, calling out over his shoulder. “Master Da Wei, do you want me to activate the invisibility formation?”

“I’ll leave it to your discretion,” answered the Master.

Ren Xun frowned slightly, thinking it over. That sounded like a test.

Did they need to stay hidden? It wasn’t as if they were being pursued. Using the formation now would be a waste of resources. He tapped his fingers against the controls before finally deciding against it. No need to squander precious stones on paranoia.

Instead, he focused on maneuvering the Floating Dragon, smoothly lifting them into the sky. The landscape below shrank as they ascended, the wind picking up around them.

Unbeknownst to him, he was probably just overthinking…