Chapter 592: The Contemporary Demon Master Xu Jiangxian: Lamb Soup!

Shen Kuan paid no attention to the middle-aged man.

The man seemed unwilling to acknowledge him, so he didn't press his luck.

Everyone in Bianjing knew the Blood Moon Hall was a band of madmen; as long as the price was right, they wouldn't hesitate to strike even against the Nine Surnames—or even the scholars of the Academy.

Years ago, the Blood Moon Hall assassinated the Third Master of the Academy in broad daylight, shaking the entire Bianjing.

They nearly got rooted out entirely!

Shen Kuan had no desire to be entangled with the Blood Moon Hall.

The Blood Moon Hall's assassins were divided into three tiers; the highest were the Blood Moons, their badges a crimson jade pendant, among whom the most powerful were those who had reached the Upper Three Realms of Martial Path or had ignited the Divine Flame among Primordial Spirit cultivators.

The second tier bore iron badges, and all those in this tier were either in the Middle Three Realms of Martial Path or Primordial Spirit cultivators who had not yet ignited the Divine Flame.

He guessed this man's cultivation was roughly equal to his own.

Shen Kuan's gaze lingered for a moment on the iron badge in the middle-aged man's hand—clearly, the opponent was a second-tier assassin.

To hire this man…

Xie Renfeng must have paid handsomely.

Shen Kuan wondered: weren't Blood Moon Hall assassins always dressed in black?

This middle-aged man wore a white robe and a snow-white fur-lined coat, with a pristine white collar—wasn't that far too conspicuous?

He looked less like an assassin and more like some idle nobleman from the Nine Surnames.

Shen Kuan shook his head and stopped thinking about it.

He was only here to kill Xie Guan; he had no interest in other matters.

Shen Kuan was about to find a hiding spot and wait silently for Xie Guan's arrival.

At that moment!

The middle-aged man's eyes shifted, and he softly spoke, smiling:

"You've come all this way—what's the point of hiding?"

Shen Kuan was puzzled—was there someone else nearby?

His heart tightened; the star mark on his brow flickered faintly—the hallmark of his sixth-level Primordial Spirit realm, "Divine Perception," allowing him to sense subtle changes and hidden energies around him.

He swiftly scanned his surroundings.

Only the rustling of bamboo in the wind.

Moonlight spilled like clear radiance.

Only the faint swish of horse tails or the snorts of the steeds.

Where was anyone?

Shen Kuan began to suspect the middle-aged man was deliberately tricking him.

The middle-aged man stared at one of the carriages.

"Are you still not coming out? Must I go fetch you?"

Shen Kuan followed his gaze—a withered old man emerged, leaning on a cane.

The elder's hair and beard were pure white, his back hunched, one trouser leg hanging empty.

Shen Kuan was startled—when had this man appeared? He hadn't sensed a thing.

Most terrifying of all!

The man was clearly a martial cultivator, yet his aura was indistinguishable from that of an ordinary person.

Shen Kuan suddenly realized a possibility—was this man an Upper Three Realm martial cultivator?

He broke into a cold sweat.

In contrast!

The crippled elder's eyes locked tightly onto the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man's expression remained calm, his gaze composed and unhurried.

The elder had come from the Su Fu, sent by Su Jing to ambush Xie Guan at the Xie Fu.

But!

For the past half-month, Xie Guan had never left the Xie Fu; with Xie Hong guarding it, he dared not force his way in.

He had waited until today!

He had positioned himself at the crossroads where the three carriages must pass, waiting until Xie Hong and the others entered the West Pavilion before appearing.

Chang Qi's gaze was grave—the middle-aged man's cultivation was beyond his perception.

He himself was a Ninth Realm martial cultivator; though wounded, his cultivation and insight remained intact.

In the crippled elder's eyes, the man was riddled with openings.

Yet his spirit had already issued a warning.

If he struck, his life would be in grave danger—martial cultivators of his level felt their spirit resonate like a drumbeat with every thought.

How could this be?

He had once reached the Ninth Realm's "Xuandan" stage and had glimpsed what lay above.

He knew well: even within the Ninth Realm, there were vast differences.

Above the Ninth Realm lay three further stages, each as difficult to breach as the leap from Eighth to Ninth.

When had Bianjing acquired such a master?

Chang Lao had just heard this man was from the Blood Moon Hall—their boss, whom he'd once seen with his master, was a woman in red robes.

It certainly wasn't this man.

The middle-aged man smiled: "You're the one who killed these people, aren't you?"

Shen Kuan's face darkened—the situation had slipped beyond his control.

Not only was there a Blood Moon Hall assassin here, but also this mysterious elder.

He regretted his decision today.

He might have stumbled into the game of some great Bianjing power players.

The crippled elder remained silent.

He had hidden in the shadows and killed all the coachmen and servants here before either of them arrived.

His master's plan to kill Xie Guan must not be exposed—the fewer who knew, the better.

The middle-aged man said coolly: "Of course, none of this concerns me—as long as you don't block my path."

He glanced at the elder's missing leg and asked curiously:

"At the Ninth Realm of Martial Path, flesh can regenerate and severed limbs grow back. Who did you anger? The blade intent severed all vitality completely."

"Had you not severed this leg yourself, you'd likely be dead. Who in this world wields such blade intent? It reminds me of one person."

Chang Qi's heart jolted—he was now certain this man was no ordinary figure. He had effortlessly identified the source of his injury and named his Ninth Realm cultivation as if it meant nothing.

The crippled elder took a deep breath: "I don't know. What is your purpose here?"

The middle-aged man smiled: "Why I'm here—what's it to you?"

Chang Lao froze—he hadn't been spoken to like this in years.

Shen Kuan listened to their exchange and muttered: "This is bizarre!"

The crippled elder was a Ninth Realm martial cultivator—there were few such masters in Bianjing, all of them famous.

How had he stumbled upon one?

Yet no known Ninth Realm martial cultivator matched this elder's appearance.

Shen Kuan involuntarily stepped back, wanting to flee—but he knew full well: running meant death.

A Ninth Realm martial cultivator, at this distance from his own Sixth Realm Primordial Spirit "Star Opening," would snap his neck before he took three steps and crush his Primordial Spirit with a single punch.

Shen Kuan silently edged closer to the middle-aged man—Primordial Spirit cultivators feared getting too near martial cultivators.

They cultivated their Primordial Spirit; they couldn't match the raw physical cultivation of these martial beasts.

The middle-aged man said: "You came to kill. So did I."

Chang Lao probed: "Might I ask your name?"

The middle-aged man hesitated, then shook his head.

The crippled elder realized his mistake—no one abroad used their true name.

The middle-aged man suddenly smiled again:

"A man walking the heavens and earth need not fear to speak his true name!"

"I am Xu Jiangxian!"

Shen Kuan frowned—the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

This man was no nobody—otherwise he wouldn't boast his name so freely.

The crippled elder's face changed, stunned:

"The current Demon Master, Xu Jiangxian!"

They said the Demon Master had found the lost fragments of the Heavenly Demon Scripture left behind by the ascended Demon Master Huang Dao twenty years ago.

He secluded himself in the Great Snow Mountains of Changsheng Tian, then wandered alone through the Ice Plains of the North.

He has not returned since!

How had he suddenly appeared in Daqi's Bianjing?

"What? The Demon Master!"

Shen Kuan's face paled—he was a legend who had dominated the world thirty or forty years ago.

Yet he found it unbelievable.

Such a great figure appeared right before me.

Xu Jiangxian, at twenty, had already mastered all schools of the Demon Sect; in his youth, he traveled with the Three Masters, even studied at the Academy, and is a renowned master of the realm.

Xu Jiangxian is also the state advisor of Changsheng Tian, having unified the nine surviving branches of the Demon Sect, who are thus called the Demon Master.

Since the "Demon Master" ascended, every successive leader of the Demon Sect has refrained from calling themselves Demon Emperor or Demon Saint, instead styling themselves as Demon Master.

Shen Kuan involuntarily took a quiet step toward the lame old man.

The Demon Master is the figure who makes children stop crying in the mortal world; the ghosts on his hands may even overflow his soul banner.

One flick of his finger and I'd be reduced to ashes.

Shen Kuan wore a look of bitter despair—had he forgotten to check the almanac today?

Xu Jiangxian smiled toward the carriage pavilion's entrance:

"The one I've been waiting for has finally arrived!"

【You sat inside the carriage for an hour.】

【Continue visualizing the "Slaying Demon Sword" within your heart-sea; the more you cultivate, the more each moment feels urgent.】

【Dare not slack for an instant!】

【The carriage jolted to a slow stop; you slowly opened your eyes.】

【The old carriage driver outside called out: "Young Master, we've reached Nai Bridge. We may need to wait a moment."】

【The driver added eagerly: "Young Master, don't rush—once we cross this bridge, we'll enter Xixiang Tower immediately."】

【"Thank you, old man."】

【"Young Master, don't say that—it humiliates your servant!"】

【The old man found this young master of the Nine Surnames strangely different from the other haughty young lords.】

【You lifted the carriage curtain and gazed across the shimmering river: far ahead, lights blazed brilliantly against the horizon, pavilions and towers stretching endlessly.】

【This river is the Zhi River, crossing Bianjing; across it lies Xixiang Tower.】

【This was your first time traveling so far, yet you felt no surprise—you often released your yin spirit to stand atop Bianjing's Gangfeng sky from within your courtyard.】

【Looking ahead, you saw the foremost carriage halted at the bridge's entrance; a noble lady had stepped down and paused at a small stall.】

【Her alighting caused the entire caravan to halt.】

【You lifted your gaze toward the far side of Nai Bridge, a growing unease stirring within you.】

【Since entering the seventh realm of Primordial Spirit—"Spirit Travel"—your yin spirit can now shift between real and illusory, making you increasingly sensitive to the subtle will of heaven.】

【Sounds came from the front carriage.】

【"Madam Xu, treat everyone to mutton soup."】

【The driver's face lit up: "Madam Xu is so kind-hearted."】

【You didn't know who in the Sima family Madam Xu was.】

【You asked: "Who exactly is Madam Xu?"】

【The driver was puzzled—the official who met you just now said you were a friend of the Fourth Miss.】

【How could you not know who Madam Xu was?】

【He didn't dare stall: "Madam Xu is Miss Muqing's birth mother!"】

【You thought for a moment, recalling what Xie Yuan had told you—that Sima Muqing and Li Yutong shared the same mother.】

【First married into the Li family, then remarried into the Sima family.】

【The driver sighed: "Madam Xu is a kind soul; everyone in the Sima household knows it—she rarely scolds or beats servants, and every festival she gives them clothes and care."】

【"But reportedly, Madam Xu's marriage into the Sima family was complicated—she wasn't originally from Da Qi."】

【You asked: "Not from Da Qi?"】

【The driver hesitated—he didn't want to gossip, since you weren't of the Sima family; if word got out, he might suffer consequences.】

【But he sensed you were a well-mannered young man, so he whispered: "Those in the household say Madam Xu is from the north—otherwise, why would she crave mutton soup?"】

【You pondered, then nodded slightly.】

【Soon!】

【You stepped down from the carriage.】

【A husband and wife pushed a soup cart forward.】

【The couple marveled at their luck—Madam Sima had chosen their mutton soup, tossing down a hundred taels of silver to treat the entire caravan.】

【Bowls were passed out; some nobles in the carriages refused them.】

【When it reached your carriage, the couple grew cautious—toward the Nine Surnames like the Sima family, they always kept their distance.】

【They revered them, yet avoided them.】

【A stout man and a graceful woman offered steaming mutton soup.】

【The driver quickly took it and handed it first to you inside the carriage.】

【"Young Master, would you like some soup?"】

【The graceful woman lifted her gaze, seeing the young master step down—her eyes paused. What a handsome, refined young man.】

【Is this what a Nine Surnames young lord looks like?】

【She recalled the mature, elegant middle-aged man at the stall just now.】

【She had thought she preferred steady men—but now she realized she simply preferred good looks.】

【Still, if she had to choose, she'd pick the middle-aged man—he'd be more tender.】

【You lifted the bowl, sipped a few mouthfuls, and a faint glow shimmered in your eyes as you studied the couple: "Thank you, Madam."】

【The woman was stunned—no one had ever called her that before.】

【The old driver asked for a few extra bowls: "It's cold—need to warm up."】

【Sounds came again from the front caravan; the leading carriages began moving.】

【The couple hurried to the roadside, bowing as the carriages passed.】

【The stout man could barely hide his joy—today's earnings surpassed two months' income.】

【All the mutton soup and dumplings were gone; only a few glutinous rice balls remained, earning little.】

【The stout man ventured: "Wife, shall we pack up today?"】

【The woman thought, recalling the middle-aged man at the stall and the young master just now.】

【"You fool, aren't you eager to go to Qunfang Banquet?"】

【The stout man stayed silent.】

【"Pack up—we're going to Qunfang Banquet."】

【The stout man beamed.】

【"Wife, that's wonderful."】

【"Don't be late."】

【The couple packed up their stall and walked along Nai Bridge.】

【At this moment!】

【Your carriage crossed Nai Bridge.】

【You lifted the curtain and saw the imperial guards respectfully stepping aside.】

【The Sima family's carriage crossed the bridge and entered the Sima family's carriage pavilion.】

【The carriages ahead slowly entered, leaving only a few behind waiting.】

【Apparently, today's carriages were too many—the pavilion couldn't hold them all.】

【The driver grumbled: "The household arranged enough carriages—these young masters and misses still bring their own."】

【He asked: "Young Master, shall we wait or get out?"】

【(End of Chapter)】