Chapter 116: Past Events

The newcomer was around thirty, tall and imposing, with a stern face, wearing a tall crown and gripping a sword.

He wore a deep gray ge xuan robe, his feet clad in cloud-flowing flying shoes; his crown, robes, and attire were exquisitely luxurious, his skin faintly shimmering with a golden flame-like luster that blazed fiercely under the bright sun.

Outside the cave wall, on the mountain plankwalk.

Yan Feichen cast a sidelong glance at Chen Hang.

One of his eyes was deep purple, the other the normal black-and-white hue—strangely unsettling; to a first-time observer, it might even be startling.

But Chen Hang knew this appearance stemmed from Yan Feichen’s failed cultivation of a spiritual eye technique—a flaw in his practice allowed malevolent qi to invade his pupils, altering their color, not a divine omen.

“You’ve changed since before.”

He lowered his eyelids, sizing Chen Hang up for a moment, then said coolly:

“Before, your gaze at me was filled with hatred—like you wanted to peel my skin and eat my flesh, your thoughts never concealed. Had it not been for Zhen’er’s favor, I would have killed you long ago.”

Yan Feichen stared deeply at Chen Hang:

“But now you’ve changed? It seems your cultivation has advanced—and your disposition with it?”

“What is Elder Yan’s purpose in coming here today?”

Chen Hang remained composed: “The journey to the Abyss draws near. With your status, you wouldn’t come here merely to indulge in empty words, would you?”

“You already know why I’m here. Why pretend ignorance?”

Yan Feichen snorted, his purple eye fixed on Chen Hang for a long while before speaking:

“I don’t know what fortune you’ve stumbled upon, but in mere months you’ve first achieved breath suspension, then become Qi Condensation—utterly transformed, as if you’ve become a different person! But if you think you can continue challenging me, Chen Hang, you’re still far too weak—you won’t last!”

“I heard the old ghost Gu Jun holds you in high regard? Fine. But even the Xie cultivator of the Flower Goddess Mansion intends to take you as a disciple? Congratulations—now that Zhen’er is dead, you’ve soared to the heavens.”

“I have no interest in dredging up the past.”

Yan Feichen said coolly:

“Tell me—what will it take to erase this grudge? Talisman coins? Talisman artifacts? Or a divine technique? I’m not afraid of you, but I have no desire to make another enemy.”

“Zhen’er is already dead. She won’t come back.”

He spoke without expression:

“Don’t let the dead ruin the living’s cultivation. Don’t you agree?”

After hearing this, Chen Hang raised an eyebrow, finding it faintly amusing.

He was not the original owner of this body—only after miraculously reborn did he inherit it.

Yet the original owner had been cruelly tormented for years by this father and daughter, only finding peace in death.

Whether forcibly taken to Xiao Ganshan, poisoned by fake pills that killed his mother, or imprisoned like a caged bird…

All these humiliations.

Even if Yan Feichen now wished to make amends, how could mere promises of wealth and treasures possibly settle them?

And regardless of the original’s past with him:

Simply for Chen Hang’s own suffering in the water dungeon—endured solely because Yan Feichen’s wrath fell upon him—he nearly died again.

This filth had already taken root.

Seeing Chen Hang’s silence, Yan Feichen grew visibly impatient, convinced Chen Hang was holding out for a higher price.

“Though you were abducted to Xiao Ganshan, your food, clothing, shelter, and comforts have never been lacking—you had wealth and luxury within reach, far surpassing even the richest nobles of the mortal world!”

He glanced toward Chen Hang’s cave dwelling, seeing it plain and bare, devoid of possessions.

He couldn’t help sneering:

“You yourself chose to feign aloofness, rejecting mortal wealth—don’t blame others! Zhen’er adored you; gold, jade, and riches meant nothing to her!”

“Don’t let the dead ruin the living’s cultivation… Elder Yan, you speak truly.”

Chen Hang said coolly:

“But why didn’t you hold this thought before? In truth, I should thank you.”

Yan Feichen frowned.

“Had I not feared your wrath, I wouldn’t have fled down the mountain the moment I achieved breath suspension—to escape your tyranny.”

Chen Hang smiled:

“Had I not descended, I wouldn’t have killed the Yangshan Daoist, seized his talisman artifacts, nor journeyed to Fuyu Lake to join the Huaiwu Cave trial—and by sheer fortune, uncovered the evil Yin Sheng Demon’s conspiracy.”

“And thus, by divine luck, gained the protection of Xie Tan, the Flower Goddess Mansion’s alchemist.”

“Such a chain of events is quite intriguing.”

Chen Hang said:

“When I think carefully, Elder Yan, you’ve been instrumental—your actions aided me greatly.”

Yan Feichen’s face darkened instantly, but here, within the Xuanzhen Sect, he was restrained and dared not act.

In truth, had it not been for his feud with the sect’s master, Ai Jian—who constantly humiliated him and sought his weaknesses—

Chen Hang would not have lived this long.

At the moment Zhen’er died, Yan Feichen had intended to execute every attendant who accompanied her.

Only after Ai Jian sent someone to rebuke him with sect rules did he relent, settling for imprisoning Chen Hang in the water dungeon.

After Chen Hang descended the mountain, Yan Feichen repeatedly entertained thoughts of total annihilation.

Lanliang City and Xiao Ganshan were not far apart—otherwise, Zhen’er wouldn’t have accidentally encountered the original owner during a spring outing.

With Yan Feichen’s speed, he could have severed Chen Hang’s head and returned within hours.

But Ai Jian watched him closely, like a vigilant jackal, summoning Yan Feichen frequently for reports, burdening him with trivial tasks, keeping him occupied.

Thus, not only could Yan Feichen not leave the sect grounds, even his entire Yan family was trapped and bound.

Yan Feichen understood:

Ai Jian’s actions were not out of favoritism toward Chen Hang.

He merely wanted to irritate him!

Had it not been for the faint remnants of old friendship Ai Jian still honored,

Yan Feichen knew he was still outmatched and deliberately avoided confrontation.

Between them, a battle had already been fought…

“Don’t waste your breath with empty words. Cultivation doesn’t rely on sharp tongues. I won’t waste more energy on you.”

Yan Feichen extended one finger, speaking coolly:

“You’ve reached Qi Condensation, but after Foundation Establishment, you’ll need a Purple Mansion scripture to open your inner and outer mansion and continue your cultivation.”

“I can give you a high-quality True Method for opening the Mansion, to aid your cultivation, enlightenment, and eternal life.”

Yan Feichen spoke with deep implication:

“The scriptures in the elders’ chambers of this sect are all trash—you don’t need me to tell you that. Our sect master cares nothing for the sect’s expansion; he only dreams of returning to the Yu Yuchen Sect. He has no interest in your cultivation prospects.”

“How about it? A high-quality True Method for opening the Mansion—sufficiently refined, even rare within the Flower Goddess Mansion!”

He fixed his gaze on Chen Hang:

“Take this scripture, and our grudge is erased. What do you say?”

“How did you come by this scripture?” Chen Hang asked.

“I have my own reasons! What’s it to you?”

Yan Feichen snapped coldly:

“Will you accept it or not?!”

Chen Hang lifted his sleeve, smiling but saying nothing.

Yan Feichen erupted in fury, golden flames surging violently across his body, as if a molten pool within him was about to erupt. He opened his mouth as if to speak.

At that moment, a clear, piercing whistle echoed from the clouds, drawing near.

Hearing it, Yan Feichen’s face changed slightly, his aggression instantly subdued.

He gave Chen Hang one last long look, said nothing, and transformed into a streak of rainbow light, vanishing instantly into the distant sky—as if unwilling to meet the whistle’s source.

Only dozens of breaths later, a pure light descended like a torrential waterfall from heaven, radiating immense power.

Upon closer look, it was a childlike Daoist boy, porcelain-skinned, with a red mark on his forehead, standing on a distant green rock, arms folded, brows furrowed in displeasure.

The boy stared coldly at the direction Yan Feichen had fled for a long while, then lowered his eyelids and sneered:

“A coward. Had the sect master not remembered old ties, you’d never have dared to strut about like this!”

He turned his gaze to Chen Hang and called out haughtily:

“You’re the Daoist under the Flower Goddess Mansion’s Xie alchemist’s protection—what’s your name? Chen Hang?”

“That’s this disciple.”

The boy was unfamiliar; Chen Hang couldn’t gauge his strength, so he bowed respectfully, addressing himself as disciple.

“The sect master saw Yan Feichen come looking for you, feared he’d panic and lash out, so he sent me to protect you.”

The boy scanned Chen Hang from head to toe, then nodded:

“You’re unharmed—good. The sect master wishes to see you. Come, I’ll lead you to the hall for your audience.”

See me?

Chen Hang was startled.

This boy appeared suddenly, scaring away Yan Feichen, and now claims to be sent by Ai Jian to escort him to the hall. Though his authenticity is uncertain, he couldn’t refuse now.

Before Chen Hang could speak, the boy pulled out a large bronze seal, shook it once, and said:

“I know you might doubt me—I took this seal from the sect master’s study myself. Is it real enough?”

This bronze seal was the personal stamp of the Xuanzhen Sect master—not merely a seal, but a top-grade talisman artifact; when activated, it could shatter a small mountain.

Chen Hang’s former self had seen this seal several times; the memory remained vivid—he immediately had no doubts.

“Thank you for taking the trouble to come all this way.”

He bowed his hands.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

The boy leapt down from the green rock with a chuckle, walked to Chen Hang’s side, rolled up his sleeves, tiptoed, and slapped one palm against his shoulder.

Without any visible movement, Chen Hang felt his vision blur, the world spinning wildly—his eyes could no longer see. When he opened them again, the scenery before him had changed utterly.

At some point, he had found himself standing inside a grand hall.

Around him stood pillars carved from ancient purple xuan wood; a few steps away stood a massive dragon-headed censer, large enough for three men to embrace, slowly exhaling incense mist from its jaws. The floor was paved with agate, and exotic flowers floated through the air.

Looking up from the hall’s center, a flight of jade steps ten zhang high rose directly above, veiled by curtains that obscured all details—only a deep, rumbling vibration echoed through the space.

After bringing Chen Hang to this hall, the boy vanished without a trace, leaving him alone.

Chen Hang did not wander; he waited patiently.

After a little more than half an hour, the rumbling within the curtains finally slowed, and Ai Jian’s voice emerged:

“Chen Hang? You’ve waited long enough. Don’t blame me.”

“Your disciple dares not.”

Chen Hang replied.

“I heard Xie Tan, that fool, took an interest in you and wished to take you into his sect? Congratulations… Though Xie Tan is low-minded and lacks true Dao nature, he is still a Dongxuan Alchemist.”

“If you cultivate under him, it would suit you better than remaining here.”

Without waiting for Chen Hang’s reply, Ai Jian continued on his own:

“Since that fool didn’t beg me to rescind your previous Dihuan Talisman Decree, he’s clearly spared my face. He offered me a peach—I must return the plum. Someone—”

At this cry,

a beautiful female attendant parted the curtains, carrying a jade tray, and descended gracefully from the jade steps.

“The Dihuan is perilous—don’t venture too deep and die. Otherwise, I won’t know how to explain to Xie Tan, that fool.”

“I give you three Wu Chunlie Thunder Talismans for protection, and one hu of Da Zao Yuan Pearls to aid your qi cultivation.”

Chen Hang blinked slightly, then bowed and accepted them.

As Chen Hang reached for the items on the jade tray, the attendant’s ivory-white fingers twitched involuntarily—but he moved too swiftly, barely avoiding her touch.

She shot him a sultry glare, twisted her waist, and let out a deliberately coquettish sigh.

“A maiden dreaming of young lovers… Chen Hang, how about I give her to you?”

From within the curtains, Ai Jian chuckled softly.

“Don’t worry—she’s still pure. I brought her from Yucheng Sect to this southern region. Her constitution is unique; if you take her yin essence, your cultivation base will surely rise another level.”

“Master, don’t joke. Your disciple dares not be so presumptuous.”

Chen Hang bowed deeply in reply.

“What’s so presumptuous about that?”

Ai Jian laughed heartily.

After several more attempts to persuade him, and seeing Chen Hang steadfastly refuse, Ai Jian dropped the subject.

He then asked about Yan Feichen’s reason for seeking him. Chen Hang did not hesitate, giving a full account. Upon hearing Chen Hang had refused the Opening Mansion True Method, Ai Jian chuckled softly within the curtains, clearly satisfied.

“Since Xie Tan has agreed to take you into his sect, you needn’t trouble yourself with any Dao texts.”

He said:

“I won’t keep you any longer. In the Dihuan, don’t rush for quick gains. Preserve your life—that’s the only path to your future.”

With that said,

the beautiful attendant led Chen Hang out of the hall.

Shortly after Chen Hang departed,

a flash of clear light appeared, and the boy materialized out of thin air.

“Master, your beauty trap failed—you’ve misjudged this!”

He sat down casually on the floor, clapping and laughing.

“Yan Feichen grows more defiant by the day. In my opinion, we should eliminate him after the Dao Line Examination. What do you think?”

“Do you think Yan Feichen has no one behind him? Otherwise, how would he dare oppose me?”

Long silence followed from behind the curtains.

Then came a sigh:

“Besides, though he’s fierce and stubborn, he once saved my life. I swore an oath—if he doesn’t harbor true murderous intent, I won’t break our peace.”

The boy rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“Have you heard anything about the matter I asked you to investigate?”

Ai Jian asked.

“The Dao Line Examination? Sima Lingzhen appeared once at Fuyu Lake, but after that, he vanished completely.”

The boy shook his head. “Master, he’s the official inspector assigned to this Dao Line Examination, yet he hasn’t come to our sect at all—what’s his intent?”

“Do you still have connections in the Yucheng Sect’s main branch?”

The boy ventured, “Couldn’t we get someone from the main branch to intervene? It’s better than me wandering like a headless fly.”

Only a cold laugh came from behind the curtains—then silence.

The boy waited a long while, receiving no reply. He knew he’d touched a nerve again.

He could only shrug helplessly, let out a bitter chuckle, and bowed to take his leave.

“Main branch? What face do I have there now? Only Wang Shu, my senior brother, remains. He’s the most promising among Master’s disciples to achieve a Grade-One Golden Core. If he forms his core…”

Behind the curtains,

long silence passed.

Finally, Ai Jian on his xuan crane cloud couch let out a sigh, his emotions tangled.

If Wang Shu achieved a Grade-One Golden Core, he could then return to Yucheng Sect openly—no one could stop him!

But if Wang Shu met with misfortune…

Thinking of how, for months now, he had been unable to reach Wang Shu, Ai Jian’s gaze darkened slightly.

Though it was common for Dao cultivators to enter deep meditation for months—even years—without response, Ai Jian still felt uneasy.

“Could it really come to this—following that Chen Ying to the Primordial Demon Sect?”

Amidst the drifting incense mist, scenes shimmered into view.

He lifted his head, sighed slowly again, his expression now deeply complex.

Several days later.

After watching Chen Hang and the others board the “Luo Xian Lead Vessel” bound for the Dihuan,

Yan Ping lowered his gaze and spoke to those beside him:

“As long as I don’t kill him, my hatred will never fade! Have you prepared what I ordered?”