Chapter 73: The Sorcerer

Master Yan Song glanced across at the guards, each of them robust and sharp-eyed, with one man mounted on horseback, his temples slightly swollen, his breath steady—surely a martial expert from this world.

“No wonder this world is saturated with spiritual energy; even martial cultivation is far easier here.” Master Yan Song sighed inwardly, then bowed to the young man. “Thank you for the warning, sir. We’ll be cautious. Please have your men step aside.”

The young man raised an eyebrow, displeased. “Have your mistress come speak.”

Earlier, Gu Zhao had been reclining inside the carriage; the young man had only seen Zhuo Qingyan and He Xiuniang, assuming the carriage held only two people—a young lady accompanied by her maid and an old servant.

Master Yan Song blinked in surprise, then saw the carriage curtain drawn back as Gu Zhao leaned out, repeating the same words: “Thank you for the warning, sir. We’ll be cautious. Please have your men step aside.”

He Xiuniang let out a soft laugh. “Sir, you’re being awfully lazy.”

Zhuo Qingyan’s eyes curved slightly as she lifted her teacup and took a delicate sip.

Seeing Gu Zhao appear, the young man froze—he hadn’t realized there was another person in the carriage, and a man at that. Thinking of the two beautiful women inside, a flicker of jealousy stirred in his chest.

“Greetings, sir,” Liu Qingfeng said, composing himself with a hint of pride as he offered a slight bow. “I am Liu Qingfeng of the Liu family from Changping Prefecture. May I ask your noble surname and origin?”

“Gu.” Gu Zhao nodded, spoke one word, then added, “I’m in a hurry. Could you please move aside?”

Seeing Gu Zhao’s indifferent expression, Liu Qingfeng realized his earlier eagerness had been too obvious. He forced a smile. “Sir Gu, you’re not from Changping Prefecture, are you? Bandits are rampant in these hills.”

“My earlier words were rude—I apologize. But sir, traveling with your family, you should be more careful. If you truly encounter bandits, it’ll be too late to regret.”

Liu Qingfeng pointed ahead, his tone earnest. “The nearest town is dozens of li away, with few travelers and many bandits. Why not join my party? We’ll reach a populated area together—better safe than sorry.”

Gu Zhao’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A group of bandits tried to rob us. We killed them all.”

Liu Qingfeng froze. “Huh?”

“If bandits block our path,” Gu Zhao said softly, “they’re just toys for our amusement. I especially enjoy encountering thieves who are cruel and monstrous—killing such men gives me satisfaction.”

Liu Qingfeng instinctively stepped back, nearly tripping, until the guard captain rushed over and steadied him.

The guard captain studied Gu Zhao, then after a moment’s scrutiny, leaned close to Liu Qingfeng’s ear. “Their carriage is extraordinary—they travel alone, calm and composed. Either martial experts… or sorcerers.”

Liu Qingfeng swallowed hard. “Sorcerers?”

“Possibly!” The guard captain waved his hand—the two blocking guards immediately stepped aside.

Master Yan Song chuckled. “Aren’t young men these days all into that ‘pretend to be weak to ambush’ trick? Even short dramas show it. Why don’t you play along?”

Gu Zhao gave a dry laugh and returned inside. “I’m a Daoist, not a tyrant CEO. Daoists only feign mystery—when have I ever played ‘pretend to be weak’?”

Master Yan Song burst into laughter, thinking: the treasure chooses its master—the Five Thunder Talisman chose Gu Zhao for a reason.

…

Watching the carriage depart, Liu Qingfeng’s eyes gleamed with greed, his heart restless. He whispered to the guard captain, “Could they be bluffing? How many sorcerers could there possibly be in this world?”

The guard captain frowned subtly, then replied cautiously, “South of Wanling River, chaos reigns—spirits and demons rise everywhere. Common folk have no choice but to endure, but wealthy families value their lives too much to act recklessly.”

“That man’s bearing is extraordinary, and the women in his carriage are stunning. If they had no means of self-defense, they’d never have dared cross paths with us. Your noble status isn’t worth risking trouble over.”

Liu Qingfeng nodded, his mind uneasy. He glanced at the sky, then returned to his carriage. “Hurry on. The weather looks bad—we must reach Anlin Town today. I need to vent my frustration.”

…

Inside the carriage, Gu Zhao leaned back comfortably, feeling both relieved and puzzled. “I thought I’d have to argue longer. I didn’t expect one scare would make him back down. Are sorcerers really that terrifying?”

He Xiuniang replied seriously. “Sorcerers are powerful. My grandfather heard many stories in Xiuyue County, but he never met even one.”

Bai Ke flicked her tail. “Spirits and demons rarely show themselves to mortals. To ordinary people, even a minor sorcerer is an unreachable god. One could kill them without effort—how could they not fear?”

Gu Zhao said nothing, but understood now.

Though he’d encountered the Golden Wind Goddess right after arriving, then faced several Golden Wind Protectors, branch-temple Divine Generals, painting demons, corpse-monkeys, and even slain a Golden Wind Consort,

all of that was possible only because he himself was a Thunder Grand Sorcerer—able to sense qi and malevolent energy, and deeply involved in every event. That’s why he’d assumed everyone around him was extraordinary.

Now he reflected: during his time in Xiuyue County, even the openly visible Golden Wind Temple held few true spirits. Only three places were truly strange—the butcher shop, the teahouse, and the Zhuo family compound.

Even if there were other demons, ghosts, or sorcerers hiding their presence, compared to the tens of thousands of people in Xiuyue County, they were negligible.

This world was still dominated by ordinary people.

No wonder the villagers of Cuicun had treated him with reverence—and fear—once they learned he was a great sorcerer.

At that moment, Master Yan Song called from outside. “It’s raining!”

Even without pulling back the curtain, Gu Zhao heard the soft patter of rain on leaves—growing louder.

He lifted the curtain, and Master Yan Song said, “Rain makes the road treacherous. We need shelter.”

The road to Wuhe County was technically an imperial highway, but still dirt—firm enough in dry weather, but now riddled with potholes, slippery and hard to traverse. The carriage was fine, but the horses could easily stumble.

Bai Ke leapt onto He Xiuniang’s shoulder. “Just ahead, near the road, there’s an abandoned River God shrine. We can take shelter there.”

“I see it.” Master Yan Song focused his energy into his eyes, catching the faint outline of a building through the trees ahead. He cracked the reins. “Let’s head there.”