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Chapter 49: Pursuit

The goateed cultivator grew increasingly convinced of his suspicions.

And seeing how decisively the Five Spirits Sect cultivator had left, he figured that whatever that person had been looking for might not be that important after all.

It might not have been important to a high-ranking sect member but to a loose cultivator like him, it could be invaluable.

He still wore a low-grade spirit robe and lacked any powerful offensive weapon.

That was exactly why he had coveted the sword hairpin artifact for so long.

With a mid-grade magical artifact, he could potentially fight above his level. Even though he was only at fifth layer Qi Refining, he’d have the power to assert authority within the Offering Pavilion.

Unfortunately, everyone else wanted the sword hairpin too, which left it sealed away untouched in the treasury.

But now, with a new lead, the goateed cultivator felt it was worth investigating.

Even if the final result was disappointing, it would at least bring closure and free his mind.

Without further hesitation, he left his home and went straight to Lu Chengyi’s residence.

“Fellow Daoist Zhou, what a rare visitor,” Lu Chengyi greeted, cupping his hands, showing no surprise at his arrival.

Zhou Liang stroked his goatee and smiled. “Fellow Daoist Lu, you’re always busy. I wouldn’t want to disturb you needlessly.”

The two exchanged a smile but didn’t waste time on pleasantries.

After all, they were both imperial Offering Pavilion cultivators of Great Liang, and had known each other for years.

To have become a Qi Refining cultivator as a commoner, neither of them was a fool.

And it was easier to deal with smart people.

Just Zhou’s act of visiting made many things clear.

“I was wondering, how did Fellow Daoist Lu come to know that high-ranking cultivator from the Five Spirits Sect?” Zhou subtly redirected the conversation to Mo Qi, trying to extract more information.

Lu Chengyi smiled gently, his hands tucked into his sleeves. “What Fellow Daoist Zhou really wants to ask is, what exactly was Fellow Daoist Mo looking for, right?”

Zhou paused, then laughed loudly. “Can’t hide anything from you, old Daoist.”

“You’re right. I want to know what could be so important that a high-ranking cultivator would travel here, half-dead with injuries, after half a month on the road.”

Lu Chengyi shook his head. “I don’t know. But it should be related to the demonic cultivator.”

“We examined the corpse thoroughly. No signs of hidden secrets. So whatever he’s looking for must be an item.”

He wasn’t stupid, he voiced his own guess while observing Zhou’s reaction.

Zhou remained completely calm, showing no change in expression.

Clearly, he had already deduced as much. Even if he hadn’t, he likely suspected something.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be coming to Lu Chengyi at this very moment, perhaps to get useful information.

Or perhaps... he suspected Lu Chengyi of taking the item himself.

“You really didn’t stash the thing away, old friend?” Zhou’s gaze locked onto Lu Chengyi’s, the joking tone only half-hiding the seriousness of the question.

Lu Chengyi didn’t argue back. Instead, he gave Zhou a long, meaningful look.

The stare made Zhou visibly uncomfortable, and his smile faltered.

He quickly said his farewells and left, heading straight for the courtyard where the Daoist attendants gathered.

“Summon the boy who helped retrieve the corpses of the two Offering Pavilion cultivators and the demonic cultivator last month.”

This matter had already been questioned once in front of Mo Qi but Zhou wanted to hear it again.

The attendant repeated the events of that day, exactly the same as before.

There were no discrepancies, and Lu Chengyi indeed hadn’t hidden anything in front of everyone.

Of course, even if he had hidden something, with his strength at sixth layer Qi Refining, who among them would dare confront him?

But the fact that he didn’t even try to hide the mid-grade sword hairpin probably meant he hadn’t taken anything.

Zhou dismissed the attendant and returned to his own quarters, brows furrowed.

He thought the matter over for the entire night.

He didn’t sleep. He didn’t meditate.

His goatee was nearly pulled off.

He had no idea how many strands of hair he’d yanked out.

Leaning over his desk he wrote and drew, reconstructing what the attendant had said, listing every person involved.

He drew relationship lines between all of them.

Finally, as the eastern sky brightened and dawn light shimmered, Zhou suddenly slapped his forehead.

Realization struck.

A month ago, after the battle where the Five Spirits Sect cultivator was injured, the corpses were returned by imperial troops.

The storage talismans and magical items on them had not gone missing.

But what if when the battlefield was being cleaned up, someone found something valuable and quietly pocketed it?

If the item was cleverly disguised, it might have been mistaken for ordinary gold or silver.

He had already investigated nearly everyone who had touched the item.

The only ones left were the imperial soldiers who transported the bodies.

Having come to this conclusion, Zhou burned his notes in a brazier, dressed in fresh robes, and left the pavilion.

But he didn’t go straight to the Southern Garrison of the Embroidered Guards.

He first went to the marketplace.

There, he had a hearty breakfast on the roadside, drank a full bowl of soup, and made his way to a teahouse for morning tea.

He took his time.

Long enough to shake off anyone tailing him.

At the teahouse, he listened to a storyteller speak of strange and wondrous tales, Immortals flying through the sky, thrilling the scattered crowd.

Zhou smiled.

Even he as a cultivator didn’t fully understand the world of cultivation.

Most of these so-called “miraculous tales” were complete fiction.

They were always about poor boys who stumbled upon great fortunes, soared to the heavens, and wandered the world with beautiful women at their side.

Zhou flipped his hand, pulling out a silver needle, which he pricked into his finger to produce a drop of blood.

He let it drip onto a yellow talisman, which folded itself into a crude paper figure, then slipped it beneath the table.

Leaving ten copper coins behind, he exited the teahouse.

Glancing back, he still didn’t know who had been following him, but this little blood diversion should be enough to throw off a pursuer.

...

At the Southern Garrison, the Embroidered Guard was on duty.

A fat, pale qianhu commander came rushing out, full of anxiety: “Forgive me, Immortal Master! I just received word of your arrival!”

“No need,” Zhou interrupted the man’s apologies. “Tell me, who was responsible for escorting the corpses of the Offering Pavilion cultivators back here?”

The commander paused, uncertain. “You mean… the incident last month?”

His posture was extremely respectful.

“That’s right.” Zhou nodded. His eyes lit up.

This man actually remembered the event from a month ago, it must have left a strong impression.

It didn’t prove anything, but any lead was better than none.

Sweat began pouring down the commander’s forehead.

Panic crept into his heart.

Did Immortal Master come because of the favor Old Xiang earned for escorting the bodies?

Now that the immortal master had his hands free, could it be that he was about to punish him?

If that were truly the case, then offending Old Xiang would be a profoundly unwise move.

Who would’ve thought Old Man Xiang actually had an immortal backing him?

“Is there a problem?”

Seeing the man trembling in fear, Zhou furrowed his brows.

He was clearly just asking questions, why was the man this frightened?

And this qianhu commander seemed to have no internal energy at all, clearly an ordinary person.

The fat commander wanted to run, but instead stammered out, “N-no, not at all. What… what would the Immortal Master like to know?”

Zhou found it more and more suspicious, but didn’t want to waste time.

He clarified, “Who escorted the corpses back last month? Is there a name list?”

“Yes, yes there is.”

“You there! Bring the name list from last month’s escort mission, regarding the cultivators' corpses!” the commander ordered.

Soon after, a subordinate brought over the list.

Twenty-five soldiers in total, but only twenty returned, five had died.

Zhou wrote down the addresses of the remaining twenty and turned to leave, but the commander called after him.

His voice trembling, he cautiously asked, “Immortal Master… do you happen to know Old Xiang and the others?”

Zhou didn’t think much of it and rebuked, “That’s not something you need to know.”

The moment Zhou left, the fat commander collapsed to the floor.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had stepped into serious trouble.

Even if Zhou didn’t know Old Xiang, what if that changed later?

If Old Xiang turned around and filed a complaint, his life might be forfeit.

Even if Zhou looked like he didn’t know Old Xiang, it wasn’t worth taking the risk.

(Chapter End)