Starting Cultivation During a Trip

This person dared to speak recklessly about the life and death of their senior brother Li Changgeng—clearly, he is not one of the righteous path.

”All I know is, he’s a disciple of Zhenwu Mountain and has some dealings with Meng Qiwu…” Wang Qingyi said offhandedly.

”Besides that, he seems to have… maybe… some kind of ambiguous relationship with Yu Xuanji!”

”Yu Xuanji!?”

Yan Fei’s expression darkened sharply. As a disciple of White Crane Temple, she naturally knew that Yu Xuanji was not only an heir of Sanqing Mountain, but also shared a profound connection with Li Changgeng—this had long been an open secret.

Now, this Zhang Fan was even tangled up with Yu Xuanji. Coupled with his previous attitude toward Li Changgeng—

”Such a heart must be eradicated, truly one to be executed!”

Yan Fei’s voice was icy. On this trip to Chang’an, she really hadn’t come in vain—not only conveying White Crane Temple’s will, but also discovering such a person.

”I advise you not to harbor any improper thoughts. You’re no match for him.” Wang Qingyi warned.

Though he’d never fought Zhang Fan himself, from prior interactions and what he knew, Yan Fei’s cultivation would never withstand three moves before this one.

”Of course I won’t make a move against him, but this person’s conduct is nearly demonic, not of our Daoist path.” Yan Fei said righteously.

”I have grounds to suspect he is a demonic infiltrator from the Wuwei Sect, mixed in among our Daoist ranks.”

”Hm!?”

Wang Qinglian raised her gaze at these words, unable to deny that White Crane Temple’s disciples were indeed formidable—staking the moral high ground at once, and this slanderous hat was heavy enough to hunch the back of any Daoist disciple.

It must be known that Daoist sects dreaded the Wuwei Sect most. Any touch of involvement with them, and one’s reputation for purity vanished—no place left in this vast world to stand upon.

”Yan Fei, you’re too naive; he isn’t just any stray cur. Do you really think whatever you say must be true?” Wang Qingyi shook his head, feeling such talk too immature.

My words are law—this only holds when backed by unassailable power, overwhelming force that compels virtue.

With Yan Fei’s cultivation and realm, she was in no position to sling accusations so lightly.

”I can’t suppress him, but someone can.” Yan Fei replied coolly.

Dong… dong… dong…

Just then, grand bell-tolls thundered out, echoing through the cold, clear night, falling upon the Wang Family Mansion.

Everyone raised their heads, all looking the same direction.

It was a remote corner of the Wang Family Mansion, a forbidden ground—normally, only the family elders were permitted entry, and no one else set foot there easily.

”Rosen!” Wang Qingyi’s eyes narrowed slightly, and spoke the name aloud.

Strictly speaking, that man ought to bear the surname Wang as well, but the Wang Family owed him too much. Treated as a freak from birth, he’d been cast out—even when Jiang Wansui brought him back later, he refused the Wang surname, taking his mother’s instead.

”All things begin in Jia Sheng, and end in Gui Si… He has cultivated one of the Nine Great Inner Elixir Methods, ’Jia Sheng Gui Si.’”

Yan Fei gazed toward the source of the bell, a strange radiance flickering in her beautiful eyes.

”You plan to ask his help to subdue Zhang Fan!?” Wang Qingyi, sitting in his wheelchair, eyes darkened.

If Rosen were to intervene, he truly did have that capability.

Jia Sheng Gui Si, having glimpsed the great secrets of life and death, was no trivial matter. If mastered, it reflected a third of Ancestor Master Chongyang’s elegance in his prime.

”Our White Crane Temple has rendered him great favor!” Yan Fei said in a lowered voice.

Rosen, taken as a monster since childhood, abandoned with his mother—if not for Jiang Wansui’s intervention, he would never have survived till now.

Because of this, he followed Jiang Wansui’s wishes to return to the Wang family. Though he nursed hatred toward them, he still returned.

This time, his willingness to act against Human Xiao was also because of Jiang Wansui’s will.

If anything in this world could restrain Rosen, it would only be White Crane Temple.

”A man like him—do you really think he’ll help you?” Wang Qingyi said heavily.

He had met Rosen—such a man already surpassed ordinary humanity, verged on the monstrous.

If anything served as a bond tethering him to this world, it could only be himself.

”Not helping me, but helping White Crane Temple.” Yan Fei’s lips curled into a confident smile.

”White Crane Temple’s kindness—he cannot refuse it.”

”That Zhang Fan, whose heart must be executed, is surely of the demonic breed.” Yan Fei intoned coldly.

”Slandering people in the dead of night—be careful or your whole family might die for it.”

Just then, a casual voice rang out in the quiet darkness.

Yan Fei’s expression changed drastically; she snapped her gaze upward.

Wang Qingyi, Wang Qinglian, and Han Wenlong all turned as one—and sure enough, beneath the pale moonlight, a figure strode calmly among them. Who else but Zhang Fan?

”Zhang Fan!” Yan Fei bit her silver teeth together, her eyes shining with a trace of dread.

Han Wenlong clenched his fists tighter, as if confronting a mortal enemy.

”Ignorant fools, I spared you, yet you follow behind and croak at my back?”

Zhang Fan advanced, his indifferent gaze sweeping lightly over Yan Fei. She shrank back, every hair standing on end—as if she’d strayed into deep mountains and come face to face with a vicious tiger at the bend.

”Zhang Fan, I only said a few words at random—it’s no loss to you…”

”What now? Is this not an age of free speech? Or are words forbidden here? Who do you think you are?”

”The Three Corpses Daoist? Or Transcendent Zhenren?”

Yan Fei, worthy as a disciple of White Crane Temple, soon calmed herself, speaking each word loud and clear, unafraid in the face of danger.

”Well, as befitting a major disciple—your bearing is remarkable.” Zhang Fan praised.

”Did you think, just because we’re in the Wang Family Mansion, I wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you?”

”You try and see what happens!” Yan Fei responded, full of confidence.

Remember, she represented White Crane Temple in Chang’an—like an imperial envoy of old—she refused to believe Zhang Fan would dare touch her on Wang territory.

”Zhang Fan, after all, you’re in our Wang Family’s home.”

At that moment, Wang Qingyi spoke. His meaning was clear: all present were guests—should anyone cause trouble, they’d be disrespecting the Wang Family, and courtesy would be abandoned in kind.

Zhang Fan heard this, remaining silent.

Dong… dong… dong…

Just then, those sonorous bells tolled again. The night breeze stirred, tossing loose hair.

Suddenly, under the clear moonlight, in the silent courtyard, another appeared—soundless and without warning, like the night itself saturating the world, everywhere and nowhere.

The crowd blinked, looking up instinctively, only now realizing the man’s presence.

Clad in a plain robe, wearing grass shoes rarely seen in modern days, long hair trailing over his shoulders, he stood with hands behind his back, deep-set eyes fixed unwaveringly on Zhang Fan.

Zhang Fan felt a jolt—his eyes met the man’s, and he found him eerily familiar.

”Rosen!!!”

Suddenly, Yan Fei shouted, voice tinged with excitement and fervor.

”Cripple him… This man is an enemy of my White Crane Temple, suspected Wuwei Sect fiend—cripple him first and ask later.”

Yan Fei pointed at Zhang Fan, looking to Rosen—throwing White Crane Temple’s name behind her, her voice and bearing rising to new heights.

In this instant, she was truly fearless, openly defiant.

Whoosh…

The night wind swept by, tangling their loose hair.

Rosen moved.

Before the gathered gaze of all, he stepped forward—like a drifting breeze, he was before Yan Fei in an instant. His broad palm landed on her shoulder.

”The great Primordial Spirit always meets us unbidden.”

Deep in the lonely night, Rosen said lazily.

As his words fell, Yan Fei uttered a shrill, miserable scream. In the blink of an eye, under Rosen’s hand, she was reduced to nothing but a shriveled skin.

Blood stained the ground, adding threefold splendor to the ghastly moonlight.

”Long time no see, Zhang Fan!”

Rosen spoke softly and slowly. He turned to Zhang Fan, the corners of his lips raised—smiling, and yet not smiling.