Chapter 283

Qin Ping was merely a servant in the Qin household, but whenever he traveled far outside, he always took a carriage; it had been a long time since he walked so long on foot.

It had truly worn him out!

Qin Ping felt a dull swelling and sharp, needle-like pain in the heels of both feet; let alone his throat, already hoarse and aching from excessive talking.

Yet when he saw his new master still cheerfully lingering before a porcelain shop, glancing around, he gritted his teeth and forced his aching legs to move again, reluctantly following behind.

After all, if his master hadn't complained of fatigue, how could a servant dare to voice grievances?

"I'm hungry—should we find somewhere to have lunch?"

As Qin Ping hurried over to Han Li's side, he heard Han Li say something utterly straightforward, instantly filling Qin Ping with excitement; he enthusiastically suggested dining at a small tavern nearby, lavishly praising its signature dishes.

Han Li found it somewhat amusing inside, but kept his face neutral, signaling that Qin Ping could decide; under Qin Ping's eager lead, they entered the modest two-story tavern.

The first floor was for ordinary guests eating simple meals; the second floor was reserved for those of status and rank.

Qin Ping naturally wouldn't let Han Li dine downstairs, even though the master seemed somewhat tempted.

There were few guests on the second floor—only three or four tables.

One table even had three men and two women drinking together, which was truly shocking.

When Han Li stepped into the tavern, he naturally glanced at that table; the sight made him pause. All five of them—men and women alike—were Qi Refining cultivators with at least Level Ten foundational skills; this was unusual!

"Could they be from the Six Dark Sects?" Han Li first thought.

Instantly, he suppressed his spiritual energy, activating the "Qi Guiding Art," a technique only Foundation Establishment cultivators could learn, drawing his spiritual power inward; thus, to lower-level cultivators, he appeared no different from an ordinary mortal.

"Young Master, this way, please!"

Qin Ping, gritting his teeth against the pain in his feet, led Han Li to a window-side table and diligently wiped the wooden chair with his sleeve before beaming and inviting Han Li to sit.

Han Li showed an embarrassed expression and immediately urged Qin Ping to sit with him.

This time, Qin Ping didn't protest much; after a few polite refusals, he sat down without further hesitation.

His feet ached too severely to care about master-servant etiquette; fortunately, this newly arrived Young Master Han didn't care about such formalities either.

As soon as the two were seated, the waiter swiftly approached, humbly asking:

"What would the two guests like? Our signature dishes are quite famous."

"Bring us a full set of fine wine and dishes, and one portion of each signature dish—use the best ingredients. My young master is from the Qin household!" Qin Ping knew Han Li wouldn't know how to order, so he took charge; upon mentioning the Qin household, he instantly puffed up with pride.

Indeed, the Qin family's name carried weight; the waiter immediately bowed repeatedly, flattered beyond measure, and hurried off to rush the order.

Han Li had no interest in watching his retainer show off; his full attention was fixed on the cultivators at the nearby table.

Yet strangely, he felt the thirty-something man in blue looked vaguely familiar, as if he'd seen him somewhere before.

But upon closer thought, he drew a blank—he definitely wasn't someone he knew well.

The men, including the blue-clad man Han Li recognized, all sat with gloomy expressions, silently drinking heavily; the two women, though somewhat attractive, stared blankly at the food, not lifting a single chopstick, showing no appetite whatsoever.

From their demeanor, they seemed to be facing serious trouble—hardly the profile of Dark Sect infiltrators in Yue State.

Among them, the blue-clad man was among the youngest; only the twenty-something woman was younger than him.

"Young Master, the food's here—please eat!" At that moment, Qin Ping's respectful voice reached Han Li's ears.

The waiter had already laid out the entire table, piled high with dishes!

"Heh, let's eat together!" Han Li smiled apologetically, revealing a set of bright white teeth.

Then Han Li boldly picked up a dish and chewed vigorously; in truth, his spiritual sense quietly extended, closely monitoring every move of the cultivators.

Just as Qin Ping began eating after seeing Han Li start, the oldest of the cultivators—a black-faced old man—stopped drinking and suddenly cast an invisible soundproof barrier around their table, then spoke:

"Everyone, eat something. Since our lives are now in others' hands, the Five Friends of Mengshan can only take it one step at a time. At least we haven't been reduced to soul-scattered corpses—better than most."

Though the soundproof barrier was active and the old man spoke softly, his words reached Han Li's ears with perfect clarity; the Qi Refining cultivators' spell was useless against Han Li's astonishing spiritual sense.

Yet these words confirmed Han Li's suspicion—he could secretly overhear hidden truths.

Perhaps the old man's words had some effect; the two women finally ate a few bites in silence.

But their distracted expressions made it clear they tasted nothing.

"Big brother, must we really let them control us? If all else fails, we could secretly inform the Seven Sects—they'd surely eliminate these villains!" The blue-clad man, after downing two large gulps of strong liquor, spoke with a grim expression.

"Cough, Fourth Brother! It's not that simple," the black-faced old man shook his head slowly, his face filled with helplessness.

Hearing this, the youngest among them, a white-robed woman, couldn't help but ask:

"Big brother, why not? Don't the Seven Sects want to wipe out these villains? Don't forget, hundreds of Yue State cultivators have already fallen into their hands!"

As she spoke, her face was filled with bitter resentment.

In contrast to the fiery words of these two younger ones, the other pair—both in their forties—exchanged a silent, bitter smile; clearly, they understood the old man's concerns.

Han Li, hearing this, was startled—he felt he was grasping something significant.

Yet his face remained calm as he ate several more bites, making Qin Ping beside him marvel at Han Li's excellent appetite.

Han Li's cheeks flushed slightly; he realized his behavior was inappropriate and slowed his pace of eating.

Meanwhile, the black-faced old man sighed and began explaining to the blue-clad man and the white-robed woman:

"In truth, appealing to the Seven Sects would be useless."

"First, we all know the current state of the Seven Sects—they've deployed every last cultivator. Whether they can even resist the Dark Sects' invasion remains uncertain; how could they spare more people to aid us scattered cultivators? Remember, among these villains are Foundation Establishment cultivators. Ordinary cultivators sent would be useless. Otherwise, how could we five have been captured so easily?"

"Second, even if the Seven Sects truly cared for fellow cultivators and sent someone to exterminate them, don't forget: these people always wear masks, never revealing their true faces. Even the place where they forced us was just some random ruined temple. We have no leads at all! Worse, they've placed strange restrictions on us—if we don't receive their prescribed rituals on time, we'll die suddenly! And are you certain the Seven Sects can remove these restrictions? After all, if they dared let us go so freely, these restrictions must have unique properties—far from easy to break!"

The older man's frown deepened with every word; by the end, even he sounded defeated.

"So we must truly aid the villains? Help them trap other cultivators?" The white-robed woman said, her face pale—clearly unwilling to do so.

"Fifth Sister! As Big Brother said, we can only take it one step at a time! At least we have time—perhaps by then, the Five Friends of Mengshan will find a way to escape unharmed!" The tall, thin man in his forties offered comfort.

But all of them knew this was merely wishful thinking—self-deception! If they couldn't find a solution in two days, how could one emerge months from now?

After these words, silence returned; the gloom settled back over their faces.

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