Chapter 106

They led the donkey cart away, but the crowd gathered around the meat stall refused to disperse for a long time.

The sheer amount of meat and bones was too shocking; after the danger passed, only envy remained.

Someone lamented, "If only I had been the one cut, so much meat—it would've fed me for a month."

"If it had been you, you'd probably be dead now. You didn't see—the knife was aimed straight at her head. If it had hit, half her skull might've been gone."

"That child's luck is incredible—such a fast blade, and she still managed to slap it aside. Lucky it deflected, or Pig Meat Chang would've had a death on his hands."

Pan Yun didn't know she could still be classified as lucky.

To avoid affecting the divine statue on the cart, she hadn't dared to get on.

Though she very much wanted to test how bad her luck would be holding seven hundred taels for a day and night, she still valued her life, so she pulled out a hundred-tael silver note and gave it to Wang Cong, "Here's your hundred taels back."

This was the only money she currently owed him; she'd borrowed it earlier to send to Datong.

Pan Yun paused, then turned her steps and said, "I'm going to send money to my father."

She hadn't yet received any follow-up about the hundred taels, but calculating the time, he should've received it two days ago.

It wouldn't hurt to make a comparison.

Pan Yun took the money to the bank to deposit it, then wrote a letter on the spot and brought it together with the deposit slip to the Minxin Bureau to mail.

Thus, the money she'd earned was now reduced to five hundred taels, plus the nineteen taels and three hundred eighty-five wen still on her person—that was all her wealth.

Pan Yun strode ahead of the donkey cart, refusing Wang Xiaojing's invitation, "You don't need to worry about me—I can get back on my own. No matter what bad luck befalls me, don't interfere."

Wang Cong pointed at the black cat trailing behind her and said, "I understand, but Little Master Shu, Little Black doesn't need to walk—let him ride on the cart. Walking like this is pitiful."

"No," Pan Yun declared sternly, "He's with me—he's my possession. If he gets on, the rules will think it's me, and your bad luck might be dragged in."

"You stumbling or falling doesn't matter, but the statue can't afford even the slightest mishap."

Wang Cong: "It can't be that severe—your silver's still on the cart."

Pan Yun: "Silver is lifeless; a cat is alive. How can they be the same?"

Pan Xiaohei let out a sharp meow, protesting, "You're just settling personal scores!"

Pan Yun turned and glared at it. "What personal scores? Do we even have a grudge? We're revolutionary comrades—how could there be enmity? Everything I do is for the greater good."

Seeing Wang Cong and Wang Xiaojing staring at her, Pan Yun glared back. "What are you looking at? Never seen a person talking to a cat before?"

Wang Cong and Wang Xiaojing immediately turned their heads forward.

Wang Xiaojing whispered, "Little Master Shu has such a temper—should we really not let her ride?"

Wang Cong stared straight ahead. "Forget it. For the statue's safety, Little Master Shu won't get on. Let's walk faster—then we won't have to see her."

Wang Xiaojing stared. "Leave her behind? That's not right—she's injured."

"It's just a superficial cut—no big deal," Wang Cong reassured him. "Don't worry. Little Master Shu's martial arts are excellent, and her lightness skill is top-notch. If she wants to catch up, she'll manage it easily."

Wang Cong understood Pan Yun's concern—being near her risked dragging them into her misfortune, and the cart was too precious. Better to keep distance and give her room to experiment.

Sure enough, once they cracked their whips and made the donkeys run, the cart gradually vanished from Pan Yun's sight—and her expression improved. She stopped walking.

Pan Xiaohei meowed sharply at her. "What are you planning?"

Pan Yun glanced at it. "Nothing. Now that I've got five hundred taels, of course I'll run every possible experiment."

Pan Yun curled her fingers into a claw and slashed toward it in one swift motion.

"Meow—!" Pan Xiaohei shrieked, leaping away, then sprinted without touching the ground.

Pan Yun activated her lightness skill to chase.

"Meow meow meow—you're testing your martial arts, so why use me?!"

Pan Yun chased after its tail, grabbing, occasionally stomping with her foot to try and pin it. "I need a target. Punching air is too dull."

"Meow—all excuses. Don't you always train by punching air?"

Pan Xiaohei fled for its life, paws blurring into afterimages; Pan Yun chased right behind—and nothing happened.

Soon, they caught up to the donkey cart, which had slowed again.

Wang Xiaojing saw her and got excited, raising his hand to greet her—but Pan Yun and the black cat shot past like a supernatural wind, whooshing by in two swift motions.

Wang Xiaojing's hand remained midair, his words unspoken.

Wang Cong said, "See? I told you they'd catch up."

Wang Xiaojing's eyes turned envious and red. "Little Master Shu's martial arts are incredible, Cong-ge—do you really think I have no talent for cultivation?"

Wang Cong patted his head. "Forget cultivation. You could learn some basic martial arts to protect yourself."

Wang Cong thought a moment. "If you're willing to endure hardship, it's not too late to start now—I'll teach you later." Wang Xiaojing exclaimed excitedly, "Miaohe already said they'd teach me—Cong-ge, teach me one too, then I'll know two!"

Wang Cong burst out laughing. "Fine. I'll find you a few fist manuals later—pick one you like, learn an internal cultivation method, practice breath regulation—it's enough for an ordinary civilian."

"It'll strengthen your body and keep you from being bullied easily."

Wang Xiaojing nodded vigorously.

As soon as she used her lightness skill, the wind rushed fiercely against her face. Pan Yun felt as agile as a soaring eagle, utterly free.

She ran and leapt, covering half the distance quickly—nothing happened. It went too smoothly.

Pan Yun didn't dare grow complacent, but she did relax somewhat.

The moment she relaxed, she stepped on a branch. Just as she was about to use it to launch forward, the branch cracked—right in the middle.

So what? It broke. She hadn't even landed properly. Pan Yun pushed off to leap away—but the broken branch suddenly twitched as if in its death throes. A smaller twig snapped upward, directly into her flight path, and sharply whipped her right foot.

She crashed down with a thud, reacting instantly by curling into a ball as she landed…

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A loud bang startled Pan Xiaohei, who yowled and scrambled up a tree, watching her in terror. "Meow—did you die?"

Pan Yun stretched and stood up, feeling her hands, feet, and neck. Confirmed only her right elbow was bruised—nothing else wrong—she trudged forward, head down.

Pan Xiaohei jumped down from the tree and hurried after her, meowing, "You're not going to do this again, are you? Can't we just walk home normally?"

"Shut up."

With those words, Pan Yun tripped over a tiny tree root in the grass and crashed face-first with a thump.

Pan Xiaohei froze, one paw suspended in midair, then dared to land slowly, softening his voice to meow, "Are you alright?"

Pan Yun lifted her head from the grass, spat out the grass clippings from her mouth, and said flatly, "Not a scratch."

"You saw that, right? Even walking, I can trip on flat ground—so why not push the limits?"

Pan Yun snorted with a cold laugh. "Such a rare chance—let's test it to the end tonight!"

Pan Yun tried not just lightness skill, martial arts, and normal walking, but also spells.

She reached for a branch, got snapped back by it, and scraped her face.

She gathered dry grass, and a tiny thorn inside it pierced her finger precisely.

She wrapped the dry grass around the branch, then chanted a spell and summoned fire— a fireball appeared, boom! —igniting the bundle into a torch, then surged violently upward and seared her eyebrows.

Startled, she threw the torch away—the perfectly burning torch instantly went out.

Pan Yun trudged toward Mount Sanqing, shouldering the extinguished torch, her face blackened.

Literally blackened—from smoke.

By the time they reached the mountain's base, night had fallen; Pan Yun sighed in relief, lit the torch, and sat at the foot of the mountain waiting for Wang Cong and Wang Xiaojing.

Wang Cong left the statue and the donkey cart at Wang Xiaojing's home.

He took Pan Yun's bag of silver ingots, crept to the roadside at the mountain's base, and saw her face flickering in the torchlight.

Wang Cong swallowed hard and whispered, "Little Master, are… are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Pan Yun said calmly. "Let's climb the mountain."

Wang Cong was genuinely frightened. "What if we stay the night here? We can go up at dawn. If you don't like staying in a villager's house, you can stay at my old family home—I fixed it up a bit recently, it's livable."

"No. When we went to the county before, we often climbed the mountain in darkness. Only under identical conditions can we compare the differences. We climb tonight."

Wang Cong gaped, unable to comprehend. "Little Master, isn't your life more important than comparing differences?"

"Of course," Pan Yun said. "If we don't compare the differences and uncover the rules, won't we someday be dragged down by them and lose our lives? Right now, everything's still controllable—I'm small and weak, and the backlash of my bad luck isn't strong yet."

"This isn't strong?" Wang Cong pointed at her face. "Look at what you've turned into! Next we'll be walking mountain paths—if you stumble and fall from above, it's a bottomless cliff."

Mount Sanqing is extraordinarily steep—truly perilous. Its peaks stretch endlessly, piled together yet staggered apart, with abyssal chasms between them.

Some cliffs look as if cleaved straight down the middle by a blade—smooth surfaces where even the greatest martial artists struggle to fly up or down with lightness skill.

If Pan Yun fell, nine out of ten times she'd be dead.

Mount Sanqing is a stone mountain, everywhere hard rock—if you accidentally hit your head…

Wang Cong shuddered, shaking off the grim image. "Let's climb at dawn."

Pan Yun looked at him, then shouted toward the sky: "Master—"

She pointed to the heavens and cried: "Is this mountain yours? Is this mountain under your command? If your disciple dies on this mountain tonight, you'll lose your new temple, your temple keeper, and one less beloved disciple to filially serve you—"

Tail number 3

(End of Chapter)