Chapter 14: The Moment You Step Out, You Enter the Jianghu

Sha Lifei’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s up?”

He knew better than anyone that this kid wasn’t harmless.

The first time he came here years ago, he thought: an old crippled man and a half-grown boy—what trouble could they cause?

Just showing up to say hello was already giving them face.

No one could say a word if word got out.

So back then, he acted loud and careless.

Not only did he neglect proper etiquette—he barked orders, flaunting his senior status, demanding Li Yan prepare him wine and food, just to score a free meal.

Li Yan was still young then, but he wasn’t one to be taken advantage of.

He did prepare the wine and food—plenty of it—but slipped in some castor bean powder, carefully dosed so the diarrhea wouldn’t hit until after he left the village.

That had enraged Sha Lifei to no end.

But since he was leading a team of seasonal laborers, and grain raids at Dragon Mouth weren’t a joke, he had no choice but to press on, vowing to teach the brat a lesson next year.

He never entertained killing him.

He had plenty of ways to handle a greenhorn kid.

For instance, under the guise of a sparring match, give him a solid beating.

But he never expected Li Yan, using the power of the substitute spirit statue, trained like a man possessed—and by next year, he’d already made modest progress.

His experience was still lacking, but he wasn’t so easy to handle anymore.

From then on, Sha Lifei became much more courteous.

Now, out of the blue, he called him over—was he looking for trouble, or trying to reclaim the position of leader of the seasonal laborers?

Thinking of this, Sha Lifei smiled on the surface, but grew quietly wary.

These young wolves just entering the Jianghu were the most ruthless, acting without restraint, willing to do anything to make a name for themselves.

Don’t let me get tripped up here today…

As he fretted inwardly, Li Yan spoke: “I heard you have connections with the Xuanmen. Could you introduce me?”

Sha Lifei froze, then exhaled in relief—and his curiosity flared. “What’s going on? You run into something?”

“Did you get haunted? Or is your feng shui off?”

Li Yan didn’t answer directly. “Nothing serious. Just curious. Be honest—do you have this connection or not?”

“Of course I do!”

Sha Lifei immediately puffed out his chest, laughing heartily. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m Sha Lifei—friends everywhere.”

“On this Guanzhong road, there’s nothing I can’t settle!”

Seeing Li Yan’s blank expression, he glared. “What? You don’t believe me? I do know one person from the Xuanmen.”

“He’s a fire-dwelling Daoist—expert in Qimen Dunjia, divination by characters, fortune-telling, feng shui for graves and homes, exorcising ghosts and subduing demons—master of all. Wealthy families in Chang’an compete to invite him…”

Sha Lifei spoke with flying spittle, but Li Yan grew increasingly skeptical.

Though an outsider, he’d had some exposure to folk customs in his past life.

Just in Yi Shu alone, there were Ba Zi, Liu Yao, Plum Blossom Yi Shu, Liu Ren, Qimen Dunjia, Taiyi Shen Shu, Zi Wei Dou Shu… countless schools.

Mastering one required immense effort.

Those lacking talent couldn’t even get through the door.

And exorcising ghosts and subduing demons? That sounded like pure fraud.

Sha Lifei, of course, didn’t know—he kept boasting: “His name is Wang Daoxuan. Rumor says he’s connected to the Tai Xuan Zhengjiao in Chang’an, and he’s even issued Wáng Bǎng in Xianyang…”

At this, Li Yan’s eyes lit up.

Tai Xuan Zhengjiao was the true orthodox Xuanmen.

And issuing Wáng Bǎng? Not just anyone had the qualification.

Wáng Bǎng was a funeral document listing the deceased’s birth and death dates, along with exact times for cremation and burial.

Only with a Wáng Bǎng could the authorities permit burial.

Du Daya had once mentioned: those who issued Wáng Bǎng were almost always from the Xuanmen.

Li Yan guessed they also served as coroners.

For cases of unclear death or poisoning, the yinyang masters had the authority to withhold the Wáng Bǎng, report it to officials, and even refuse to certify suspicious corpses.

Either way, Wang Daoxuan was likely a genuine insider.

At the very least, he could ask how to join Tai Xuan Zhengjiao.

Thinking of this, Li Yan smiled, speaking more politely: “Then I’m in your debt, Uncle Sha. I’ll repay you properly.”

“No problem!”

Sha Lifei laughed, then shook his head. “But there’s a catch—you’ll have to come with me. You can join the team tomorrow.”

Li Yan frowned. “Why?”

Sha Lifei clicked his tongue. “Wang Daochang is very busy. He follows strict etiquette—can’t expect him to come to you.”

“Luckily, we’re heading to Xianyang—we’ll handle your matter along the way!”

“Oh.”

Li Yan thought for a moment. “Fine.”

Sha Lifei spoke half-truths and loved to boast, but Li Yan could tell—he only knew Wang Daoxuan, not well.

Still, it was a lead. Maybe something useful would come from meeting him.

Entering the Xuanmen couldn’t wait.

He’d opened his Yang Six Roots—if something targeted him now, he had no Chuma Xian to advise him on warding off evil.

Xianyang wasn’t far, but not close either—five or six days round trip.

Asking neighbors to look after his grandfather was no problem.

Seeing him agree, Sha Lifei’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He waved dismissively. “Alright, it’s settled. We leave at dawn tomorrow!”

Saying that, he hurried off.

Watching his retreating figure, Li Yan shook his head slightly, turned, and went inside to pack for tomorrow’s journey.

The next day, before dawn, hooves clattered closer.

“Little Brother Yan, we’re off!”

Sha Lifei’s booming voice rang out.

Li Yan was already ready.

It was nearing Mangzhong—the heat was intense, so he wore only a black cotton short tunic, a straw hat for shade, a pack on his back, and the Guanshan knife slung across his waist.

He walked to his grandfather Li Gui’s door and knocked. “Grandpa, I’m leaving.”

No answer came from inside.

Li Yan sighed, resigned.

He’d told him yesterday—his grandfather naturally refused.

!.

But this trip was vital for his future survival—he had to go.

Just as he turned to leave, a frail voice came from within: “The Jianghu is dangerous. Stay sharp.”

“Yes!”

Li Yan grinned, striding off confidently.

Creak—

The moment he left, his grandfather Li Gui opened the door, watching the boy’s distant back, sighing softly, suddenly remembering Li Hu of long ago.

“Father, what is the Jianghu?”

“The Jianghu?”

“Step outside this door—and you’re in the Jianghu…”

…………

Li Yan once believed that, having lived two lives, nothing could excite him.

After all, he’d seen the neon lights and towering wonders of his past life—so even the most bustling capital of this world seemed merely ancient to him.

But the moment he stepped out of the village, he realized he was wrong.

The shadow of Li Family Village faded. Yellow earth gullies, golden wheat fields, emerald forests, blue sky and white clouds—the grandeur of Guanzhong surged upon him.

This was a world untouched by pollution.

All things under heaven and earth seemed unusually clear.

Coupled with the unknown Xuanmen, Li Yan felt himself become that boy again—curious, yearning for the world beyond.

“Brother Yan, why are you leaving too?”

Hei Dan sidled up, interrupting his thoughts.

The black kid was just as excited.

Unlike Li Yan, this was his first time traveling far beyond Lan Tian County’s temple fair—he’d lost all his usual calm, chattering nonstop.

“Xianyang? I heard it’s way far…”

“I wonder if we’ll catch a glimpse of Chang’an along the way…”

But soon he felt the hardship of the road.

They walked the official road under blazing sun; dust swirled on the dirt path, while golden wheat fields rippled like waves under the scorching summer wind.

Add to that his coarse black clothing absorbing heat—he turned red-faced, sweat dripping steadily.

Sha Lifei gathered about fifty wheat harvesters from several villages around Li Family Fortress, each carrying a pack and wielding a sickle and whetstone at their waist.

When they set out, their clothing was still neat.

But now, most had unbuttoned their shirts; some had even stripped off their tops entirely, bare arms glistening with copper-toned skin in the sun.

Though Sha Lifei rode a horse, he was also sweltering.

He kept taking off his waist water flask and stealing glances at Li Yan.

Unfortunately, Li Yan walked in silence, occasionally glancing at the surrounding scenery.

The group had set out early in the morning and kept walking without pause until noon.

At this point, Hei Dan was drenched in sweat, his vision darkening, his soles aching, his ankles weak, each step feeling as if he trod on cotton.

Li Yan was equally drenched in sweat, yet his expression remained calm.

After years of martial training, his foot strength far surpassed that of ordinary men.

Finally, Sha Lifei glanced at the sky and, seeing the sun directly overhead, spoke: “Find a place to rest and wait out the scorching heat before continuing.”

They still had two more days of continuous travel ahead.

Walking at midday drained more energy, and the group included many elderly; better to conserve strength and walk farther during the cooler night.

As for staying at an inn, Sha Lifei hadn’t even considered it.

Even if he were willing, these beggars wouldn’t spend a copper coin.

A resting spot was easy to find: not far ahead on the official road stood several large locust trees, their dense shade ample enough for everyone to lie down.

At Sha Lifei’s command, the group hurried forward, found spots beneath the trees, and pulled out hard grain buns, swallowing them with cold water.

Li Yan also sat with his back against a tree, eating his dry rations.

His mind was resolute; this journey was merely training for his feet.

When they returned, he could wander the Xianyang mule and horse market and see if the money he carried could buy a good horse.

Clip-clop…

As he pondered, a series of hoofbeats rang out in the distance.

Li Yan squinted, looked up, and immediately grew alert.

Twenty or more riders approached, each mounted on swift horses, wearing wide-brimmed hats, some carrying long swords, others slinging short blades—clearly men of the Jianghu.

Suddenly, Li Yan’s expression changed slightly, his hand gripping his sword hilt.

He smelled blood on these men…

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(End of chapter)