Starting Cultivation During a Trip

”Brother Fan, you’re amazing—three honors in one year!” Zhan Xinyue couldn’t help saying.

Within their ranks, these banners were more precious than real gold and silver; later, when climbing the ladder, you could pull these out and show off.

”Can’t I get something substantial as a reward?”

Zhang Fan stopped pretending; after all, Sui Chunsheng and Zhan Xinyue weren’t outsiders, they’d lived and died with him more than once—he could treat them as his own people now.

”Isn’t this a substantial reward?” Sui Chunsheng couldn’t help retorting.

”Substantial my ass. How many times have I bailed out your Daoist Alliance? And every single time you hand me a banner—does it even cost fifty bucks?” Zhang Fan rolled his eyes and said.

It’s not like he was chasing a career in the system.

”Oh yeah, the President gave specific instructions—starting today, the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance officially appoints you as a Demon Suppression Consultant.”

As he spoke, Sui Chunsheng pulled out a small booklet with a Golden Volume cover from behind his back.

”This is your letter of appointment.”

”Demon Suppression Consultant? Why does that sound so bootleg? Like a knockoff?” Zhang Fan frowned, but still accepted the letter.

”From now on, when you help our Daoist Alliance with cases, there’s actual bonus money,” Sui Chunsheng added.

”Don’t worry, not the kind you can only spend in a supermarket.”

”I’ve got zero faith in your Alliance’s promises,” Zhang Fan said blandly.

”Also, you can log in to our Alliance’s internal store and buy mission items—all at twenty-five percent off,” Sui Chunsheng finally got to the real perks.

”Internal store!?” Zhang Fan perked up. ”What do they sell?”

”Anything you find on the black market—the Alliance’s internal store basically has it too, but the prices are higher,” Sui Chunsheng murmured.

Trading on the black market was unregulated, risky, and untaxed; the prices of many things were lower than official channels.

Of course, a lot of contraband was even pricier.

Just like Shi Shougong mentioned before about [Beitai]—even if it’s contraband, you can’t buy it in the Alliance’s internal store.

”Twenty-five percent off… okay, that’s a proper benefit,” Zhang Fan nodded, finally accepting the banner.

”The login site and all your account info for the internal store are on this USB—don’t lose it.”

As he spoke, Sui Chunsheng dug around in the drawer and pulled out a USB stick—the casing was made of Thunderstruck Wood, engraved with Seven Stars talismans, old-fashioned design, silky to the touch.

”By the way, Fang Changle asked me to let the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance know he’s heading back to Maoshan,” Zhang Fan said.

After Yin Hu got caught, Fang Changle had left Yujing City.

He’d been away from Maoshan nearly five years; it was about time to go back and see the place.

This time, going back with him were Qi Ji and Jifeng Pavilion—and of course, they brought along little junior sister Mo Yun’s ashes.

”Fang Changle’s name’s been cleared. He’s not under surveillance anymore, so he doesn’t have to check in with us,” Sui Chunsheng said, giving Zhang Fan a meaningful look.

”He’s pretty close with you now, huh? Even lets you pass along stuff like this.”

Back then, Fang Changle’s ties were with Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance; his infiltration of the Wuwei Sect was orchestrated by the Alliance. Now, Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance felt more like outsiders.

”He and I are fated,” Zhang Fan grinned.

According to Lin Jianyue’s advice—or should I say Zhao Jie Xuan’s—you ought to pull in heirs from the Ten Great Daoist Mountains whenever possible.

Zhenwu Mountain’s Xia Weisheng went without saying—the whole Zhenwu Mountain stood with Zhang Fan.

Now, Laojun Mountain’s Qi Delong and Qi Dongqiang were under Zhao Jie Xuan’s thumb, and Maoshan’s Fang Changle was Zhang Fan’s friend for life and death.

His foundation grew ever deeper; everything was trending up.

”Better hurry and become Mahasattva. Better succeed at Divine Fusion soon...” Zhang Fan silently thought.

With Mr. Nian gone, Yin Hu dealt with, the storm in Yujing City was settling down; no news from Zhang Lingzong so far, and no news meant good news.

Zhang Fan, once he gets comfortable, is always extra ambitious.

”Let’s go.”

Zhang Fan waved goodbye, stuffed the USB in his pocket, grabbed the banner, and walked out of the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance. On the other side, the noise was getting louder, police cars showed up—looked like this uproar was nowhere close to ending.

...

Taoyuan Square.

Seventeenth floor: Night is not bright.

Bai Buran’s office was completely empty; Jiang Hu had gone to Maoshan with Fang Changle.

Wen He was cleaning up the mess; Jiang Lai was helping out too.

”Where’ve you been lately?”

Come to think of it, Zhang Fan hadn’t seen Jiang Lai in a while.

”Went back to Zhenwu Mountain,” Jiang Lai said, picking up scattered files without looking up.

”You went to Zhenwu Mountain? What for?”

”Screwed up my cultivation, went to see Chu Tiaotiao,” Jiang Lai replied casually.

”Chu? Transcendent Zhenren?” Zhang Fan asked suspiciously. He couldn’t help but say, ”I always knew you didn’t just show up at Zhenwu Mountain out of nowhere...”

Zhang Fan was sure Transcendent Zhenren definitely knew Jiang Lai’s background.

Maybe Zhang Lingzong did too—ten years ago, at that Dragon Tiger Red Moon event, it was Zhang Lingzong who’d brought Jiang Lai out of Dragon Tiger Mountain.

”What did you practice? What went wrong?” Zhang Fan probed.

”Wanna try?”

Jiang Lai put down her paperwork and raised her little fist.

”...”

Zhang Fan couldn’t help smirking. As he was about to ask again, Wen He walked out of Bai Buran’s office, dragging a big bag of trash.

”Sister Wen, let me help.”

”No need, it’s all done—property management will pick it up soon.” Wen He rolled up her sleeves and blew out a breath, her beautiful face returning to its usual brightness.

”Wen He, I went over to the Daoist Alliance this morning; they said Night is not bright can keep running. Boss should be out in a couple of days,” Zhang Fan tried to reassure everyone.

Truth was, he had no clue how serious Bai Buran’s situation was or when she’d be released.

”Thanks so much, Fanfan.”

”Where’s Old Yu?” Zhang Fan looked around—Yu Fu was nowhere to be seen.

Technically, Yu Fu was Night is not bright’s most loyal, most reliable guy.

”He’s gone out—trouble came up, someone has to handle clients, plus there’s the warehouse stock to oversee...” Wen He said quietly.

It’s all tough and dirty work; Yu Fu always stepped up. The business Bai Buran built, he didn’t trust anyone else to look after it.

”Sister Wen, when did Old Yu join the company?”

Zhang Fan’s heart stirred, remembering Bai Buran’s instructions about Yu Fu before leaving.

”I don’t know. When I joined, Old Yu was already here. He’s been with the boss since way before Night is not bright was founded...”

Wen He said softly, ”Rumor has it, back when the boss left Zhenwu Mountain years ago, she drifted through Sichuan and Shu, and met Old Yu there...”

”Then the two of them came to Yujing City, and started Night is not bright.”

”So Old Yu’s from Sichuan and Shu...” Zhang Fan mused.

Before leaving, boss’s top instruction was to never let Old Yu set foot in Sichuan and Shu again.

Thing is, Sichuan and Shu is Qingcheng Mountain territory—one of the Ten Great Daoist Mountains too.

”Yeah, but he hasn’t been back all these years,” Wen He couldn’t help asking, ”Why?”

”Oh, nothing, just wondering,”

Zhang Fan smiled and waved it off.

He went back to his workstation and opened up his computer.

Right now, Night is not bright was probably the emptiest it’d been since he started.

Zhang Fan looked at the deserted office and couldn’t help feeling a little down.

People—biggest pain comes from impermanence; when your surroundings change, strange thoughts brew, mood gets affected.

That he even felt this way meant his cultivation wasn’t up to scratch.

Buzzzz…

The computer screen lit up; Zhang Fan instinctively opened ”Little Yellow Book” and logged in.

Beep beep beep…

Just as he landed on the homepage, notifications chimed—since the boss wasn’t around, he didn’t bother hiding it.

”Huh!?”

Zhang Fan clicked the notification, and the chat window popped up; when he saw the avatar, it was the Thousand-Year-Old Demon.

”They actually reached out to me first!?”

Zhang Fan’s eyes lit up, and as he checked the message, he felt as if he’d just been struck by lightning.

”How does that Primordial Spirit taste, harvested from herbs?”