Chapter 77: Constant Misfortune

Wang Feiyin: “You’re just a child—going into town to buy medicinal herbs now is like walking straight into being robbed. I’ll have your third senior brother accompany you.”

Tao Ji stepped forward.

Wang Feiyin praised Pan Yun warmly: “You’re far superior to your third senior brother and fourth senior sister. They turn back only after hitting a wall—no, they hit the wall, then hit it twice more, insisting on three hits before turning around. You, however, turn back at the first obstacle. You’re worthy of teaching. Truly worthy.”

Tao Ji’s face darkened. “Senior brother!”

“Alright, alright, I won’t tease you. Go, go quickly—and remember, come back only after you’ve spent every last coin.”

Miao Zhen and Miao He also wanted to go; they slid off the ox cart and lunged for the mule cart, but Wang Feiyin grabbed each by the back of their robes and yanked them back. “Behave yourselves. Get back on the cart.”

By the time Old Qian caught up across the fields, Pan Yun and Tao Ji were already far down the road, driving the mule cart.

Zhou Chao hurriedly bowed. “Uncle.”

Old Qian waved a hand, gazing into the distance. “Why did the young immortal leave so soon?”

Wang Feiyin: “They’re going to the county town to buy things.”

Old Qian: “Then they’re headed the same way—why not travel together?”

Wang Feiyin: “They’re in danger right now. Better to separate.”

Old Qian, who had intended to chase after Pan Yun, immediately changed his mind. “Master Wang, I’ll travel with you.”

Tao Ji took Pan Yun to the Sunset Herbal Shop before closing and bought herbs for strengthening the body.

But they couldn’t spend all the money—or rather, they shouldn’t spend it all on this.

“If you spend it all on yourself, the Dao won’t recognize it. You’ll still be unlucky in the days ahead.”

Pan Yun didn’t understand. “Why must the master’s disciple be poor? Why can’t I have money?”

Tao Ji: “Because the master is poor too. I don’t know why—it’s the Dao’s balance against the Mountain God of Mount Sanqing. Senior brother might know.”

Pan Yun felt resentful. She’d earned this money honestly—it was legitimate income. Why couldn’t she spend it as she pleased?

Tao Ji: “You should be grateful. Senior brother has walked every wrong path you might take. Now, every step you take is warned against.”

Pan Yun froze. “So… was senior brother once that miserable?”

Tao Ji nodded solemnly. “Terribly so. He spent five years just learning the rules. Those five years were unbearable. That’s why senior brother never takes disciples—even though he took you on behalf of the master, none of us—second senior brother, me, or fourth senior sister—have ever seen the Mountain God in our dreams. We’ve only bowed to him from afar in the temple.”

We’re less his disciples than disciples of Ge Xianweng—or of senior brother.

“Of all on Mount Sanqing, only you and senior brother have a close bond with the Mountain God. Tonight, we’ll stay at the county inn. You can cultivate all night—feel the difference.”

Pan Yun: “Are you talking about how cultivation is faster on the mountain? Isn’t that just because the spiritual energy is denser?”

Tao Ji smiled faintly. “How many times faster is your cultivation on the mountain than below? What’s the difference between your speed here and in Guangxin Prefecture or Kaifeng Prefecture? Do you really think it’s just about spiritual energy?”

Pan Yun fell silent. She’d truly believed it was only about spiritual energy—and her talent, and the cultivation technique.

Her talent was exceptional. Previously, it was the realm spirit disrupting her, and the technique was incomplete—that’s why she progressed slowly.

Now, the mountain’s spiritual energy was dense, she had the correct technique, and the realm spirit no longer interfered. With her talent, wasn’t it natural for her to swiftly advance through the Ten Thousand Realms and Human Stillness to reach Heart Stillness?

But now Tao Ji implied there was also the Mountain God’s blessing?

Tao Ji: “You’ve taken the Mountain God as your master and received his grace—naturally, you must bear his karmic bonds.”

Hearing this, Pan Yun sat in earnest meditation that night in the inn, striving to sense the difference.

Yushan County lay some distance from Mount Sanqing, but still within its protection.

This time, as she cultivated, she paid close attention—and slowly noticed the difference.

Not only was the qi in her body different, but when she practiced her technique, the speed at which she drew in spiritual energy was indeed faster than in Guangxin or Kaifeng. She’d assumed it was the technique’s effect.

But now, watching closely, the spiritual energy here seemed naturally more fond of her. On Mount Sanqing, the spiritual energy felt even more affectionate—closer…

She decided that as soon as she returned to the mountain, she’d cultivate immediately to confirm the difference.

Pan Yun opened her eyes, thoughtful. So this was why she bore karmic bonds?

Faster cultivation… wasn’t that acceptable?

After all, her ultimate goal in earning money was cultivation.

Pan Yun felt refreshed. She addressed the empty air with deep feeling: “Master, wait—I’m going to buy materials to build your temple right now.”

After buying the strengthening herbs and new cinnabar, she still had two hundred and fifty taels left. She wouldn’t touch her old spare coins—she kept them for emergencies.

She withdrew fifty taels in silver notes and sent them to Datong. The remaining two hundred taels she used to buy materials for her master.

Pan Yun strode out of the inn with confidence—then slipped on the threshold and crashed face-first onto the ground with a loud thud.

“Meow—” Pan Xiaohei, walking behind her, leapt up, planted all four paws on the back of her head, then bounced away. His black face turned back, his amber eyes brimming with mockery.

Pan Yun struggled to lift her head, eyes blazing. “Shut up—” “Meow meow meow—I didn’t say anything.”

Pan Yun: “Close your eyes!”

Tao Ji hauled her up. “Arguing with a cat? Hurry up—spend the money.”

Pan Yun wiped her mouth—her hand came away bloody. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Third senior brother—it hurts…”

Tao Ji finally noticed her split lip. He frowned, pulling her back inside. “I’ll needle you to stop the bleeding, then apply medicine.”

Tao Ji’s face was stern. “Sister, you must spend every last coin today. Not a single cash left.”

Pan Yun was obedient. She’d planned to keep some for emergencies—but now, she decided to spend it all.

Half an hour later, except for the fifty taels she’d set aside to send, Pan Yun had spent every single coin.

Some small change couldn’t buy herbs, so she bought rice, flour, oil, and grain instead—planning to take them back to the mountain.

After all, they had to buy food and drink up there too.

After sending the fifty-tael note to the bank and collecting the receipt to mail through Minxin Bureau, Pan Yun was truly penniless—not a single cash left.

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Standing at the door of Minxin Bureau, Pan Yun patted her purse. “Third senior brother, I’m so poor.”

Tao Ji ignored her. He glanced around. “Let’s go. Now to Dazhou Village.”

Pan Yun climbed onto the mule cart, patted the mule’s thick rump, and mumbled through her injured lip: “Old Mule, you’ve suffered unjustly. When I return to Mount Sanqing, I’ll have a serious talk with Master—next time, don’t drag the innocent into this.”

Tao Ji: “The Mountain God can’t control this. If He could, He’d never let you or senior brother be poor. Wouldn’t it be better if disciples had money?”

“This isn’t the first or second time. This time, it’s just Old Mule. Back then, with senior brother—everyone who had any connection to him, on the mountain or below, was dragged down. Even strangers on the road would trip and fall—just so senior brother had to spend money.”

Pan Yun frowned, thinking of her master’s old, broken sword. “Did Master once offend the Dao?”

No one could answer.

Pan Yun thought spending all the money would end it. Tao Ji and the others thought so too—it was Wang Feiyin’s five years of blood and tears.

But in Dazhou Village, Pan Yun first got diarrhea from eating. Sitting on a chair, its leg suddenly loosened—she toppled backward, and despite her usual agility, she didn’t react in time, smashing her head into the pillar behind her…

Then, at night, mosquitoes suddenly adored her. They ignored Miao He—their favorite target—and swarmed only her. That wasn’t enough: the next day, her bites swelled red and shiny, glowing almost like mirrors. Her skin broke out in an allergic reaction—half her face swelled.

The Zhou family had always doubted them, thinking Zhou Chao and Sun Xianiang had been tricked by these Daoists.

And Wang Feiyin couldn’t bring Sun Lao Ye to witness miracles anymore.

But after witnessing Pan Yun’s misfortune, they believed.

“Could it be that the young immortal is bearing the karmic burden of changing our fate? That’s why she’s so unlucky?”

Wang Feiyin fell silent.

Xuan Miao fell silent.

Pan Yun did not. She asked Wang Feiyin: “Senior brother—are they right?”

Wang Feiyin: “...No. Little sister, your ignorance makes me doubt your ability. Fourth senior sister, tell her why.”

Xuan Miao: “Do good deeds, ask not for rewards. Healing the sick, curing chronic ailments—no matter the patient’s status, as long as you don’t forcibly alter fate, your gains are righteous.”

Wang Feiyin added: “Foot-binding is an ancient evil, unnatural. The Dao will never punish you for opposing it.”

Pan Yun thought deeply, then returned to her room, opened the herbs she’d bought, and handed a portion to Miao He: “Good niece, take this herb.”

After a pause, she gritted her teeth and split half her cinnabar for Miao Zhen: “Good niece, take half this cinnabar.”

Pan Yun’s misfortunes instantly halved.

She tested cautiously: today she gave Tao Ji a little, tomorrow Wang Feiyin a little. Wang Feiyin refused outright—so she gave it to Xuan Miao.

Even Zhou Meiniang, the child convalescing, received a packet of Eucommia bark.

Eucommia bark dispels wind and unblocks meridians—perfect for her condition.

After giving away that packet of Eucommia, Pan Yun’s life returned to normal. She smiled gratefully, squeezing out two tears—yet inside, she was cold and solemn. She told Pan Xiaohei to record it: “It seems my current wealth is my limit. Record it.”

Today’s lucky number ends in 3. Screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)