Chapter 122: Step Without a Trace

Lu Dongliang, the eldest son of the Lu family, ascended alone to the third floor of Qianyue Restaurant.

Under the gaze of all present, Lu Dongliang took off his suit and gestured with a finger toward Qiu Zhiheng, signaling him to come forward and take it.

This matter didn’t truly require Qiu Zhiheng’s involvement, but since Lu Dongliang had signaled him, Qiu Zhiheng could not refuse—he quickly stepped forward and took the suit.

To be honest, Qiu Zhiheng still hadn’t recovered his wits.

None of those present had recovered their wits.

They had no idea where Lu Dongliang had come from.

Lu Dongliang’s lawful wife, Duan Shaoxia, rose to her feet, tears in her eyes: “Dongliang, you’ve returned—you’ve come back…”

Lu Dongliang pressed his palm downward, signaling her not to speak.

Duan Shaoxia noticed Lu Dongliang was missing a tooth and bore scars on his wrist, yet she asked no questions—before outsiders, she guarded his dignity.

Lu Dongliang fixed his gaze on He Yuxiu’s face.

He Yuxiu looked at Lu Dongliang and said: “You’re still alive?”

Lu Dongliang smiled: “You’re that eager for me to die? Too bad your skills aren’t good enough.”

He Yuxiu’s eyebrows snapped up: “Explain clearly—it was your brother’s skill that failed, and he was the one who tried to kill you.”

“You’re shameless,” Lu Dongliang spat. “If Dongjun hadn’t been there that night, I’d have died in your hands, He Yuxiu—I never thought you’d be this cruel, colluding with Zhuo Yuling to ambush me!”

Everyone present was stunned—this contradicted every rumor they’d heard.

He Cunshou, the patriarch of the He family and He Yuxiu’s fourth uncle, stirred slightly.

He was a seventh-layer De Xiu—he had activated his technique.

Anyone lying before him would suffer severe injury—even Lu Dongliang, a ninth-layer cultivator, would be wounded.

He Yuxiu stood and said: “Lu Dongliang, explain clearly—who the hell colluded with Zhuo Yuling? Who ambushed you?”

“That night at my home, weren’t you and Zhuo Yuling the first to strike?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, He Cunshou did not trigger his technique—Lu Dongliang spoke the truth.

He Cunshou turned his gaze to He Yuxiu.

He Yuxiu nodded: “I did strike you—but I never intended to kill you!”

That was also true.

Lu Dongliang nodded: “You didn’t intend to kill—but Zhuo Yuling did!”

That was also true.

He Yuxiu growled: “I don’t know what they were thinking—I’m not like them. I didn’t go for the kill!”

They traded accusations back and forth; He Yuxiu repeatedly insisted she never meant to kill.

Lu Dongliang repeatedly insisted she had struck first that night.

Both spoke the truth, and after arguing for a long time, the old patriarch could no longer endure.

The old man was over seventy; his seventh-layer technique had been active the entire time, listening to their shouting—he was drenched in cold sweat.

“Enough,” He Cunshou said. “Let me speak. He Yuxiu,” he turned to her first, “tell me honestly—did you strike Dongliang that night?”

“I did,” He Yuxiu admitted without hesitation.

He Cunshou frowned, then turned to Lu Dongliang: “Dongliang, our Jiaqing was injured by your daughter. You promised the He family an explanation—where is Lu Xiaolan now?”

Lu Dongliang replied: “I don’t know where she is.”

Truth.

Having asked the two critical questions, He Cunshou deactivated his technique, wiped his sweat, and said to He Yuxiu: “Xiu, you went to someone’s home and injured them—that’s your fault. Apologize to Dongliang first.”

He Yuxiu snapped: “I didn’t strike first—I acted in self-defense—it’s not my fault!”

“You child!” He Cunshou frowned. “Dongliang, Yuxiu’s temper is like this—don’t take it personally. But we must settle Jiaqing’s matter—when will you give us an explanation?”

Lu Dongliang looked at He Yuxiu and sneered: “Ask your own eldest daughter.”

He Yuxiu roared: “Bullshit! Why ask me? I’ve had no contact with Zhuo Yuling or Lu Xiaolan!”

As they began arguing again, He Cunshou sighed: “I’m old now—I can’t control these young ones. Lu Elder, what do you say?”

The Lu family had also sent an elder—Lu Maoxian, Lu Dongliang’s elder brother.

Lu Maoxian was over eighty, barely able to open his eyes, and muttered vaguely: “Let the children decide. Let the children decide.”

Seeing this, He Cunshou fell silent.

Lu Dongliang scanned the room: “I will continue searching for Zhuo Yuling and Lu Xiaolan. This matter will eventually be settled with the He family.

During my absence, I entrust household affairs to Dongjun.

Anyone who dares harm Dongjun again—I will show no mercy!”

Lu Dongliang snatched his suit from Qiu Zhiheng’s hands and turned to leave.

Duan Shaoxia, the principal wife, rose and hurried after him: “Dongliang, where are you going? I’ll go with you!”

Lu Dongliang spun around and shoved her away: “Don’t follow me. None of you follow me—I trust no one now!”

Duan Shaoxia froze. She never imagined Lu Dongliang would say such a thing to her.

Hatred stirred in her heart; a thread of blood red appeared in her pupils.

Lu Dongliang did not notice. He swept his gaze over the room and walked away.

Everyone in the room stood stunned. He Yuxiu cursed loudly; Duan Shaoxia burst into tears.

He Cunshou sensed something was wrong, but in this setting, he could not ask further.

Several key Lu family members also sensed something was off—they exchanged glances but said nothing.

He Yuxiu muttered under her breath: “Is this really Lu Dongliang?”

More than one person doubted—but no one spoke.

The Lu family stayed silent—because if they were wrong, trouble would follow.

The He family stayed silent too—they simply watched, quietly enjoying the show. Why rush?

…

“Lu Dongliang” returned to Lu Dongjun’s estate and slipped silently into his bedroom.

Before the mirror, he peeled off the false skin from his face.

He believed his performance had been flawless—he smiled with satisfaction.

He removed the false tooth from the lion’s mouth and placed it into his own.

Soon, his cheeks began to twitch.

For the next three days, he would suffer constant toothache.

This was the cost of using the lion’s power.

…

In a hospital room at the Yuezhou Three Institutes.

He Jiaqing could not smile.

A familiar voice reached his ear: “Lu Dongliang went to Qianyue Restaurant to confront your aunt face-to-face.”

Lu Dongliang just came back as if nothing had happened?

Was Lu Dongliang truly alive?

The voice on the other end asked: “Can you see anything? How did Lu Dongliang come back to life?”

He Jiaqing shook his head: “I can’t see anything—it’s all blurred, as if some immense power blocked it. Are you certain this is Lu Dongliang?”

“I’ll investigate,” came the reply.

“Don’t go—you can’t expose yourself yet. If this man truly is Lu Dongliang, be extremely cautious.

Don’t report this yet—wait for my message.

Deliver this letter for me—I’ll find someone to investigate.”

The nurse beside him was asleep. He Jiaqing sat up; his body flickered on the bed, and in his hand appeared a pen, an envelope, and a sheet of paper.

He had taken them from the stationery shop downstairs—the shopkeeper had seen no one and knew nothing.

He quickly wrote a letter, slipped it into the envelope, sealed it with saliva, stuck on a stamp, and rubbed it in his palm for a moment.

A gust of wind blew—and the envelope vanished.

The nurse jolted awake, looked up at He Jiaqing.

He Jiaqing lay motionless on the bed.

…

At the Lu family estate, Monkey Qiu sat alone in a small pavilion in the front courtyard, silent.

Though he was a notable figure in the Lu household, Qiu Zhiheng was still a servant—yet he had his own private pavilion within the estate, something unimaginable in other great families.

But Qiu Zhiheng enjoyed this privilege—he had followed Lu Dongliang since age ten, and now, twenty-eight years later, he held a status higher than many Lu family members.

But that status now seemed lost.

Taking Lu Dongliang’s suit in front of others wasn’t a big deal—it was the steward’s duty.

But Lu Dongliang showed him not a shred of trust—no word for days, no warning of his return, and now, as he left, he forbade Qiu Zhiheng from following. This Qiu Zhiheng could not accept.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A knock came. Qiu Zhiheng answered, and Zuo Wugang entered.

“Chief Qiu, I brought a jar of wine. Let’s have a drink.”

Qiu Zhiheng froze, studying Zuo Wugang’s expression—he understood: “You’re leaving?”

Zuo Wugang nodded: “Whether I can leave depends on your word.”

“Why leave? Afraid the Master will blame you?”

Zuo Wugang put down the wine jar and sat across from Qiu Zhiheng: “If you’re asking if I was afraid, I was—just a little. If the Master had just died like that, I’d be to blame.”

But today the Master returned, and I met him at the gate. Not only did he not blame me, he didn’t even look at me. That alone made it clear to me: the Lu family no longer has room for me.”

Qiu Head, since the incident, I haven’t complained. I’m only telling you this—this isn’t my fault. Not from start to finish.”

It’s not your fault either. I truly can’t understand what the Master meant.”

I’m leaving. With our cultivation, we can find food anywhere. Qiu Head, if you want to go, let’s leave together.”

Qiu Zhiheng fell silent for a long while, then shook his head: “I can’t leave. My life belongs to the Lu family. Take care of yourself.”

Zuo Wugang said no more. He rose to take his leave, and at the door, noticed a letter tucked in the crack.

“Qiu Head, there’s a letter here.”

Qiu Zhiheng blinked: “You wrote me a letter?”

Zuo Wugang waved his hand: “I can’t even read a few characters—why would I write a letter? Besides, I’m still right here. What can’t I say to you face to face?”

He handed the letter to Qiu Zhiheng and turned to leave.

Qiu Zhiheng opened the envelope and glanced at it—then froze in place.

The writer claimed to be Lu Xiaolan—and the handwriting was indeed hers.

The letter read:

The Lu Dongliang you see is fake.

He used my necklace.

His wrist bears scars.

Anyone who has worn that necklace bears scars on their wrist.

…

Li Banfeng went to the new land to fetch clay.

On the way, Li Banfeng asked: “Brother Ma, have you ever seen a Traveling Cultivator of the second level?”

Ma Wu nodded: “I have.”

“What techniques do second-level Traveling Cultivators use?”

“You shouldn’t ask me—you’re a Traveling Cultivator yourself.”

Li Banfeng’s expression turned serious: “I’m a first-level Traveling Cultivator. Of course I don’t know second-level techniques.”

Ma Wu said: “The technique of second-level Traveling Cultivators is called ‘Step Without Trace.’”

Li Banfeng blinked: “Is that a lightness skill?”

“Not a lightness skill. A Traveling Cultivator can steal a single step mid-movement. Two opponents start three steps apart; the Traveling Cultivator might suddenly close one step—or open one—during combat.”

That step takes almost no time. Even a Watcher’s eyes can’t detect the step of a same-level Traveling Cultivator. It often catches the opponent completely off guard.”

Li Banfeng recalled the second-level Traveling Cultivator Huang Guangshi, who had been killed.

Huang Guangshi could move instantly, gaining every advantage in combat with Li Banfeng. Li Banfeng didn’t know his cultivation level and assumed he was using an extremely high-level technique.

The method was powerful—but how did one use it?

Ma Wu thought for a long while: “I once heard a Traveling Cultivator say that the mechanics of Traveling Cultivator techniques aren’t hard—it’s controlling the timing that’s difficult.”

‘Step Without Trace’ seems to use intent to guide the footstep. The user must firmly believe they can take that step—and desperately want to take it—for it to work.”

Li Banfeng frowned: “So the technique isn’t something you can just activate at will? If you hesitate at a critical moment, it might fail?”

Ma Wu nodded: “Exactly as you say, Brother Li. I once heard of a third-level Traveling Cultivator who, in battle, intended to step back—but in his panic, stepped forward instead, right into his opponent’s blade. He died.”

PS: Lu Dongliang used ‘Step Without Trace’ in his battle with He Yuxiu.

(End of Chapter)