My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting
Chapter 234 – Shrouded in Mystery, Successfully Forging a Spirit Artifact, and the First Pot of Gold - Part 3

Chapter 234 – Shrouded in Mystery, Successfully Forging a Spirit Artifact, and the First Pot of Gold - Part 3

A few days later.

CRASH! Jing Baikou, the Jing Clan’s patriarch, hurled an exquisite cup onto the floor, smashing it to pieces. Nearby, the clan head Jing Banfeng stood silently. He looked both cautious and helpless, not daring to utter a word.

Pressing a hand to his forehead, Jing Baikou sank into his chair in visible distress. After a long pause, he spoke, “Have Jing Yunhe killed. And the rest of those wastrels in the clan who behave like him...kill them too.”

Jing Banfeng could hardly believe his ears.

Jing Baikou continued, “The temple master specifically requested Yunhe’s head. Would you dare disobey?”

“Th-the temple master asked for it?” Jing Banfeng’s eyes narrowed in alarm. Jing Yunhe was his son, after all.

“But, Patriarch,” he stammered, “Zhu Ban has already defected. He’s joined the enemy. Surely the temple master—”

Jing Baikou cut him off. “The temple master wants us to do everything in our power to bring Zhu Ban back. We’re to apologize and persuade him to return to the Holy Tree Temple. Otherwise...the entire Jing Clan will be severely punished.”

Thud! Jing Banfeng went ashen, sliding right off his chair and collapsing onto the floor, unable to process what he was hearing. After a long, stunned silence, his expression went dark. Opening his mouth to speak, he saw Jing Baikou raise a hand, wordlessly commanding him to keep quiet.

“We wouldn’t win a fight against him; we can’t even hope to wound him.”

Jing Banfeng took a deep breath. “Understood.”

Moments later, deep within the Jing residence, Jing Banfeng stood waiting amid a small, tranquil grove. Shortly, Jing Yunhe approached, looking as though he had worries of his own.

Over the past few days, this dissolute son had been on the move, trying to pinpoint exactly where Li Yuan’s family lived. Yet no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t find any trace of them. They had simply vanished, leaving him vexed.

“Father, are we finally going to act?” Jing Yunhe’s lips curled into a licentious smile. He was already savoring the thought of tormenting his enemies’ wives and daughters, then slipping away unscathed. The very idea excited him. He loved to reminisce about such conquests. This time, it would be Li Yuan; last time, Zhu Ban...

“Yunhe, come here,” Jing Banfeng called.

Jing Yunhe’s smile brightened as he jogged closer, only to be met by a sudden flash of steel. With a single swing of Jing Banfeng’s blade, Jing Yunhe’s head went flying.

Even before the severed head hit the ground, Jing Banfeng deftly flicked his sword, sending the grisly trophy into a specially prepared sandalwood box. Sandalwood had preservative properties, so even after many days, the head would remain unchanged.

Without a glance at his son’s body, Jing Banfeng grabbed the headless corpse, heaved it forward, and dropped it into a pre-dug pit. Inside lay an open coffin. The corpse fell in, and with a kick, he slammed the coffin lid shut. Then he methodically shoveled earth over it.

He stood there a while, expression dark and unreadable. Eventually, he picked up the sandalwood box, tucked it into his robe, and left.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

A few more days passed.

When Li Yuan noticed nothing unusual happening, he let his family emerge from hiding. Along with Cui Huayin and the maidservant Yao Jue, he returned to his own home, where he introduced them to Sheng’er, Tang Nian, Xue Ning, and the four maids—Mei, Lan, Zhu, and Ju.

While Xue Ning deliberated over how to address the new arrival, Cui Huayin surprised everyone by greeting her first with a slight bow.

“Elder Sister.”

Xue Ning paused, a little flustered. Then she came forward with a laugh, “You’re such a lovely little sister. Li Yuan’s a lucky man indeed.”

She reached out to take Cui Huayin’s hand, but something about Huayin’s ethereal poise made her feel a sudden twinge of self-consciousness. Her fingers faltered in midair and drifted back to her side.

Li Yuan noticed and gently took each woman’s hand, joining them together. “I hope you two can get along,” he said.

Xue Ning nodded. Cui Huayin only offered a faint smile, then turned her attention to Sheng'er and Tang Nian.

They stared back for a moment before Tang Nian took the initiative and addressed her, “Stepmother.”

Up in the rafters, a crow looked down at the gathering.

Sheng'er, meanwhile, flashed a brilliant smile and proclaimed in a childlike voice, “I like our pretty new mom!”

Sheng’er really does know how to act cute. Li Yuan couldn’t help scratching his head. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

A glance from Cui Huayin flicked momentarily to the crow, and she bent down so that she was eye-level with Sheng'er, letting a hint of warmth seep into her otherwise icy demeanor. “You’re very pretty too,” she said softly.

That night, Li Yuan—feeling he hadn’t spent time with Xue Ning in far too long—headed to her room, intending to stay. But she shooed him away.

“Don’t newlyweds usually spend the nights together?” she teased. “Besides, I’ve been feeling tired lately and can’t keep up with a big-shot sixth rank martial artist like you.”

So Li Yuan ended up going to Cui Huayin’s chamber. Yet she remained as cold as ever. No matter how tender or fervent he was, her face stayed impassive, as if she were merely enduring the ordeal. Even when he became a little too forceful, she only furrowed her brow in silent forbearance.

When Li Yuan finally finished, Cui Huayin spoke softly, “Tomorrow, come again. Let Yao Jue keep you company. Since she follows me wherever I go, and now that I’m married to you, she should serve you as well.”

Li Yuan wrapped his arms around her from behind. “My father-in-law...” he began.

Gazing at the dim outlines of furniture in the dark, Cui Huayin said, “He’s found someone to inherit his craft, so he’s free to leave now and avenge his wife. You must’ve known my family story for a while, right?”

Li Yuan nodded.

“I’m not going to ask you to seek revenge for me,” she continued, a touch of weariness in her voice. “You can keep the letter he wrote; I don’t need it.”

Li Yuan blinked in surprise. “You knew he wrote you a letter?”

“I guessed as much,” she replied, her tone indifferent.

Li Yuan had little to say to that, so he changed the subject. “I’m wondering when I’ll be able to forge my very first spirit artifact.”

But she didn’t follow his lead; instead, she simply closed her eyes, her long lashes veiling her silent gaze. Snuggling against Li Yuan’s chest, she slipped into sleep.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

The following morning.

An uninvited visitor showed up at Li Yuan’s residence—a Jing Clan elder requesting to see both Li Yuan and his new wife. Soon, all three were seated together.

Wearing a constant smile, the Jing elder reached down and produced a sandalwood box. In an impassioned voice, he announced, “Our Jing Clan was cursed to have given birth to such a beast. Only recently did we uncover all the wicked things he’d done. Because of him, discord spread through the Holy Tree Temple. He deserved to die for his crimes!”

Cui Huayin watched his performance impassively. But at the moment the elder opened the box to reveal Jing Yunhe’s severed head, her expression showed brief astonishment.

The elder then kept apologizing, bowing, and promising to make amends. After some time, he took the box and departed. Next, he headed for the Cui residence to extend more apologies.

Not long after, a message circulated around the Skygarden Prefecture.

“Zhu Ban, the Jing Clan knows it was wrong. The culprit behind it all is dead. Please come back.”

Within two days, those messages were updated with further entreaties.

“Zhu Ban, if you feel there’s anyone in the Jing Clan who ought to pay for their crimes, speak freely. If they truly committed unforgivable acts, the Jing Clan will show no mercy.”

And one piece of good news rarely came alone.

By late June, barely 20 days after the wedding, Li Yuan received his very first commission for a spirit artifact. This commission was from the temple master himself, who wanted something simple—a paperweight refined into a spirit artifact.

The temple master would provide the materials and pay a fee of 1,000 taels of blood-gold. The source blood, meanwhile, would come from a fifth rank elder of the Mu Clan. This Mu clan was closely allied with Gu Xuejian’s faction—a large, chivalrous house that went around eliminating criminals and protecting countless towns and villages.

Li Yuan recalled he had once encountered a member of that clan named Mu Hua back in Northriver Prefecture. But Mu Hua was only sixth rank, not one of the absolute elites in the clan.

Pulling out the slip of paper that Zhu Ban had left him, Li Yuan read it again, “Beware the temple master...”

Yet, he had no choice but to accept. So he made thorough arrangements to protect his family. Even the Cui Clan patriarch, Cui Wuji, personally came to stand guard, lest the Jing Clan pull the same treacherous stunt they’d once used against Zhu Ban. Only then did Li Yuan feel safe agreeing to the commission.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Time passed.

The day finally arrived.

Within the Cui Clan’s smithing hall, Li Yuan stood at the open furnace, next to a small reserve of blood crystal marrow and a single drop of source blood kept in a jade container. This drop had been supplied by the Mu Clan elder in person, and Li Yuan could feel the formidable energy it held.

Taking a deep breath, he began the process.

No one could say how long he worked. Perhaps a couple of days; perhaps more than ten. Whenever Li Yuan was hungry, he popped a fasting pill, then returned to sit by the blazing coals, calmly waiting for just the right moment.

This was one of a smith’s subtle arts, waiting for the mind and body to align before making the actual attempt. Once he fell into that perfect rhythm, everything would flow seamlessly.

At last, Li Yuan sensed the moment had come. His hair hung loose around his face as he studied the molten glow. He began melting the blood crystal marrow, adding precisely measured metals, and finally poured that single drop of source blood into the mix.

Again and again, he raised his hammer. With every strike, it seemed he poured his entire spirit and consciousness into each blow.

Klang! Klang! Klang...!

There was no margin for error. Li Yuan felt like a high-wire acrobat, every step precarious.

Time stretched on and on. Outside the smithing hall, people waited anxiously, until at last the doors swung open.

Stripped to the waist, Li Yuan stepped out and called, “Send for Elder Mu. His spirit artifact is finished.”

A wave of cheering and celebration followed.