Chapter 11

Two days later.

Rong State, Wu Chuan Prefecture.

A group of knights in black armor atop black horses galloped along the official road, centrally guarding a spirit coffin.

This cavalry unit flew banners in perfect order, their armor gleaming bright; even after galloping dozens of miles under sunlight, neither man nor horse showed any sign of fatigue—clearly seasoned, elite soldiers.

“I’ve long heard the new Dao soldiers bred by the Spirit Feeding Chamber are extraordinary; today seeing them, the rumors hold true. Younger brother, watch closely how their spines flex when exerting force—like a white toad guarding qi, curling its head and bulging its belly. Any ordinary martial cultivator doing this would already be bruised all over.”

Behind this squad of Dao soldiers rode two white horses, keeping pace at a distance.

On one white horse sat a man in blue Daoist robes, a sword strapped to his back, now pointing toward the Dao soldiers with keen interest as he explained to his companion.

The other, holding a six-stone vermilion-lacquered bow in his left hand and reins in his right, wore a black water-cloud long robe with a leather belt cinching his waist, accentuating his tall, upright posture—clearly the bearing of a noble lineage.

Chen Hang gave a faint nod, his left hand gripping the great bow.

He glanced at the Dao soldiers in the direction Xu Zhi pointed, his mind elsewhere.

“Younger brother, what’s wrong? You’ve finally descended the mountain—shouldn’t you be happy?”

Xu Zhi scratched his head. “Ever since you came down, you’ve looked troubled and uneasy. What’s eating you? Are you afraid Elder Yan will cause you trouble? Don’t worry—your descent was personally approved by the Sect Master. He wouldn’t dare openly defy him.”

“I’m not just worried about Yan Feichen… I’m also worried about…”

Chen Hang clenched the great bow and shook his head.

When he left that emerald sky palace, he gathered a few belongings and departed under cover of night, carrying the coffin of his predecessor’s clan elder.

Riding hard for three days, they now had less than half a day’s journey left to Lanliang City, where the Chen clan resided.

Yet Chen Hang’s heart remained uneasy.

Could that woman truly let him go, merely because Chen Ying had spoken a few words?

So easily?

When his predecessor first ascended the mountain, he had pleaded desperately to Yan Zhen countless times—every word heartfelt, as if a cuckoo weeping blood—yet in the end, he still died in bitter resentment on Xiao Gan Mountain.

People like her.

Can they truly be moved by words?

…

“Forget it. I’m the fish on the chopping block; overthinking only drains my spirit.”

Chen Hang spurred his horse forward, riding alongside Xu Zhi: “By the way, I haven’t thanked you yet, Senior Brother, for going out of your way to escort me home.”

“No need for thanks between us. I was bored stiff up on the mountain anyway.”

Xu Zhi laughed heartily. “You’ve just entered the Embryo Breathing realm—you’ve shed your mortal body, but you’ve yet to gain any combat experience or learned even a few Dao arts. I, at least, am a Qi Condensation Sixth Layer cultivator. Even with my right hand crippled, any mortal demon or petty villain who dares come near me dies!”

“Still, next year’s journey to the Abyss—I won’t be much help. Don’t hold it against me.”

Xu Zhi chuckled bitterly:

“You know me—I’ve always been timid and cowardly. I know it’s a flaw, but I can’t change it. My life holds no great achievements, but as long as I can live each day, read books, and brew elixirs, I’m content. As for places like the Abyss… I simply haven’t the courage to go.”

“Senior Brother, you speak too harshly. How could I ever blame you?”

Chen Hang shook his head gently.

“Still, there’s one thing I’ve carried in my heart for a long time—I just never understood.” Xu Zhi looked at him hesitantly, speaking carefully.

“Senior Brother, speak.”

“Wasn’t it this clan elder of yours who devised the plan to trick you onto the mountain? You once hated him so much you wanted to kill him with a single sword—so why are you now bringing his coffin back to the clan?”

“If he hadn’t shoved me aside, I’d have been killed by Xu Xie’s sword aimed at Yan Zhen… and who knew the elixir Yan Zhen gave me was a death potion?”

In this body’s memories,

there remained the scene of his predecessor’s clan elder, bleeding from the mouth, crawling on his knees, weeping as he begged for forgiveness.

Xu Xie’s sword cut through all things.

Not only Yan Zhen, but even disciples like his predecessor, who stood nearby, were caught in his murderous aura—if his predecessor hadn’t been shoved aside, and had died alongside Yan Zhen,

would Chen Hang have been reborn into the Nine Continents and Four Seas at all?

“The past cannot be undone. My mother and he are both dead. I’ve spent three years on Xiao Gan Mountain. What use is holding onto resentment now?”

Chen Hang gazed calmly at the mist over distant mountains, dissolving silently in the sunlight:

“He saved my life. I fulfill his final wish—that’s all.”

Xu Zhi stared at Chen Hang, this young man with divine features, riding motionless, his face devoid of sorrow or joy.

All the past had flowed away like water.

Even Chen Hang himself.

Was no longer the Chen Hang he once was…

“I see your Dao heart in you, younger brother.”

He suddenly spoke: “That day, when I was practicing swordplay, Master Gu Jun suddenly declared he would take me as his disciple—and he said exactly these words.”

“Master Gu Jun? He truly is a kind elder. Had he not arranged for the Spirit Feeding Chamber to assign me this squad of Dao soldiers, I’d have been at a loss how to transport my clan elder’s coffin.”

“Master Gu…” Xu Zhi gave a bitter smile. “He’s always been excellent—a pure Daoist.”

The two fell silent.

Sensing the tension, Xu Zhi turned his gaze to Chen Hang’s left-hand great bow and asked:

“You’re skilled in archery? I’ve never seen it before.”

“How can a gentleman not master the Six Arts?”

Chen Hang smiled faintly—when suddenly, the woods to the left of the road rustled violently, and a mighty white stag burst forth, hooves flying like wind.

“Fortuitous! Let Senior Brother witness my skill.”

Chen Hang drew the bow like a full moon, effortlessly pulling the six-stone bow to its full extent.

Following the archery memory of his predecessor, he loosed an arrow like a meteor chasing the moon—the bowstring snapped, and the white stag collapsed instantly, its neck pierced clean through, blood gushing violently from a fist-sized wound.

The Dao soldiers guarding the coffin all cried out in admiration; Xu Zhi praised him loudly.

Chen Hang lowered his bow and was about to retrieve the deer when the woods beside the road stirred again, accompanied by shouts and galloping—dozens of noble youths and maidens in colorful robes and fine horses appeared.

“It seems I’ve shot a deer someone else was hunting.”

Chen Hang reined in his horse, made no move toward them, merely bowed apologetically, then spurred his horse onward with Xu Zhi.

“Big sister, the deer we were chasing got shot dead!”

Among the youths, a petite girl with a short bow pouted. “The man who shot the deer is so handsome—but I’ve never heard of him in Rong State. Big sister, do you know who he is?”

“Isn’t that Chen Hang of the Xuanzhen Sect? He… why was he sent down the mountain?”

Leading the group was a woman draped in a fox-fur cloak, beautiful as a painting, yet with an air of martial vigor in her features.

“Go! Perhaps he came down specifically because of the Chen clan’s troubles!”

She patted the girl’s head, turned her horse, and chased after Chen Hang’s departing trail:

“Let’s follow him—see what he’ll do!”

…

…

At this moment.

Rong State, Lanliang City, Chen Clan Estate.

In the main hall, a group of Chen clan elders frowned in gloom, none speaking, the atmosphere heavy with despair.

“Xi’er cannot be handed over—if we do, what becomes of the Chen family’s honor? Our only option now is to bring out the relics of Chen Hang’s father!”

Chen Kuang, the Chen clan patriarch, who had once passed the imperial examinations in the top three ranks before resigning his post to return home, rose to his feet.

He coldly scanned the assembled clan members, his white beard trembling:

“His father was a rogue Daoist, but didn’t he possess some cultivation? His relics should be enough to deal with the Yangshan Daoist—what do you say?”