Ningzhou, Hanyang Pass.
Mounted on a scrawny horse, Wei Yuan emerged from the pass and set forth on the road west.
Dressed in a cultivator's snug attire beneath a tarpaulin cloak and wearing tall leather boots, he rode a scrawny horse trailing two square wicker baskets of luggage. It was the quintessential look of a rogue cultivator in the western territories.
It was just past midday. The sky was cloudless, yet the sun seemed veiled behind a layer of gauze, casting a blurred, crimson hue. The air was muggy and clammy, so oppressive that most travelers found their clothes soaked through with enough moisture to wring out after walking just a short distance.
Hanyang Pass was one of the world's most formidable fortresses, as well as the gateway to Ningzhou. Stationed inside was a mighty garrison of a hundred thousand soldiers. Its walls were not particularly tall, but broad—fifty feet high and fifty feet wide. Mounted within the fortress were eight colossal ballistas that could shoot ten thousand zhang, capable of injuring a dharma idol with a single bolt.
Under the murky sunlight, the three large characters reading "Hanyang Pass" were somewhat weathered and tinged with verdigris. Broad patches of moss covered the fortress walls, giving the entire pass a deep, suffocating green cast.
As far as the eye could see, this realm was awash in various shades of green, while the far western horizon ended in a sodden, dark streak of ink-green.
Beyond the pass, the road quickly turned to rutted mire, pockmarked everywhere with murky puddles. Few traveled this westward artery. The two parties that had exited alongside Wei Yuan split off to the left and right before they had covered a few li, leaving him to ride alone toward the west. After only a few more li, the main thoroughfare degraded into a footpath, and soon the path itself faded into near-nothingness.
Seeing no one around in the open wilderness, Wei Yuan reined in his horse, walked over to a roadside pool of water, and scooped up a handful. The water was tinged with green and felt slimy in his palm, carrying a faint, foul stench. Tiny insects darted back and forth within it, some even burrowing toward the flesh of his palm.
Swarms of winged insects hovered over the puddle, buzzing loudly.
Unlike the Liao domain, there was no distinct line dividing heaven and earth here; the further west one traveled, the wetter and rainier it became. Not long after leaving Hanyang Pass, large pools of stagnant water began to flank the road, lined with the region's unique black tortuous willows. Their trunks were dark greenish-black, with dozens of roots plunging into the water. Seen from afar, they resembled eerie creatures standing on dozens of spindly legs.
Massive swarms of bugs frequently hovered over the pools, droning incessantly, and the insects only grew larger the further west he went. A single bite from one of these pests would leave a bloody little pit in one's flesh.
This was the borderland of the western Wu domain, where gloomy rains could fall uninterrupted for months on end. Further west lay boundless marshes teeming with vicious venomous pests in the waters and woods. Though water was everywhere in this world, drinking it raw—just like the handful Wei Yuan held—would immediately induce a severe illness. In the true Wu domain, natural water sources were lethally toxic and poisonous mists choked the air, making survival utterly impossible for ordinary mortals.
In the end, Wei Yuan scooped up a lump of wet mud to inspect it, cleansed his hands with a Daoist art, remounted his horse, and pressed on westward.
Beyond Hanyang Pass lay uncivilized lands where no flying boats operated; one had to rely on a mount or fly using magical treasures. Wei Yuan's destination was Quliu Town, currently the largest settlement in the Shattered Lands, thirty-nine hundred li from Hanyang Pass.
Yun Feifei was to rendezvous with Wei Yuan in Quliu Town, after which they would return together to the Palace of Grand Beginning. According to the dossier, Yun Feifei might be accompanied by a few fellow disciples. If so, Wei Yuan could settle them in Hanyang Pass first and escort Yun Feifei back ahead of the rest.
With no one around on the road, Wei Yuan stirred his divine sense, sending a wisp of black qi sinking into the scrawny horse's body. The beast let out a long neigh, surged forward with explosive speed, and galloped west. In this manner, Wei Yuan slowed whenever he encountered people and sprinted when the way was clear, occasionally spending nights on desolate mountains. Three days later, he arrived outside Quliu Town.
Wei Yuan reined in his horse outside the town and narrowed his eyes, gazing toward the sky above Quliu Town as a faint golden light appeared in his pupils. Under his Qi-Gazing Technique, Quliu Town was shrouded in black qi, with bloody glimmers flickering everywhere. Near the center, however, there was a spot where the bloody light was sparse and a faint azure qi drifted.
That would be a suitable lodging. Wei Yuan withdrew his karmic luck, and the scrawny horse reverted to its haggard state, plodding half-dead into town.
Quliu Town had originally been a minor settlement of just a thousand people, but it had changed hands repeatedly during the war and had been completely destroyed. After the Wuyu Clan's armies withdrew, its convenient location led to diverse tribes intermingling here. Now, over a hundred thousand people were congregated in the area, far surpassing its pre-war scale. Entering here meant setting foot right in the heart of this lawless realm.
Crude shacks and tarpaulin tents dotted the town. The streets were cramped and packed. Many wore oilcloth cloaks and covered their faces with cloth scarves, refusing to reveal their true appearances.
Shops lined both sides of the street, while many others simply laid out stalls on the ground. Most of the goods on display were things Wei Yuan had never seen before. Yet at a glance, barely any contained spiritual qi; they were likely all fishing for undiscerning suckers.
Some stall owners hardly looked like merchants at all; their cold, predatory gazes scrutinized every passerby like venomous spiders hunting for dinner.
As Wei Yuan navigated the muddy, crowded street, numerous malicious gazes immediately darted toward him from the shadows.
On his journey west, Wei Yuan had thought things through thoroughly, settling on two core strategies: startling the snake by beating the grass, and fishing via karmic luck. As for his disguised identity, after weighing his options, he had settled on being an irritable sword cultivator.
Sword cultivators were notoriously ill-tempered to begin with, and as an irritable one, Wei Yuan naturally unleashed a flare of killing intent, glaring back without the slightest restraint. Sure enough, most of the ill-intentioned stares around him vanished. Yet Wei Yuan could already faintly sense disdain from two figures lurking in the shadows with deep, concealed auras. In this lawless haven, flamboyant types were usually simple-minded fools bound for an early grave.
That was precisely the impression Wei Yuan wanted to cultivate.
Wei Yuan played the irritable sword cultivator with effortless ease, though even he wasn't sure whether his talent lay in sword cultivation or just plain irritability.
Quliu Town was unexpectedly large. Only after crossing several blocks did he finally reach the town center, where a three-story wooden building greeted his eyes. It was one of the rare intact structures in the town and was quite sizeable; its rear courtyard cordoned off nearly half a block. Above the main entrance hung a plaque reading "Lie-Flat Inn."
This was the suitable lodging Wei Yuan had spotted with his Qi-Gazing Technique.
Wei Yuan stroked his pair of rat-like whiskers and strolled through the inn's front entrance with his chin held high. Naturally, he wouldn't show his true face and had long since used a Daoist art to don a disguise. At present, he appeared nearly fifty years old, with thin brows and ratty eyes glinting with a vicious light, looking both wretched and savage—the spitting image of a scoundrel.
His cultivator robe was rather worn. Though a magical artifact, it was of low grade with frayed hems and edges, reeking of destitution. Yet Wei Yuan strode with wide, arrogant steps, doing his utmost to project the swagger of someone who couldn't care less about money.
Past the entrance lay the dining hall, furnished with seventeen or eighteen tables, nearly all of them occupied. The second and third floors served as guest rooms, while several small courtyards were built behind the inn, reserved for affluent guests.
The moment he stepped through the door, Wei Yuan felt several malicious sweeps of divine sense probe him, zeroing in on his chest and waist without the slightest discretion. But when it came to origin soul and divine sense, Wei Yuan had truly never feared anyone. Moreover, having resolved to pose as a sword cultivator, he had come prepared.
Wei Yuan visualized Xiaoyu's Immortal Sword Great Sun within his sea of consciousness, infused his divine sense with a blazing sword intent, and swept it back with ferocious force!
A chorus of painful cries and gasps erupted across the hall. Several guests clutched their faces, and one person even tumbled backward onto the floor, blood spraying from their nose as they blacked out. A rabble of bottom-feeders daring to pit their divine sense against Wei Yuan, whose Dao Foundation was already established—their outcome could hardly be pretty.
At this, the color drained from every patron's face, and none dared make eye contact with Wei Yuan again. Wei Yuan picked a table at random, walked over, rapped his knuckles on the tabletop, and said coldly, "You lot, find another seat!"
Seated at the table were two middle-aged men dressed as traveling merchants, though their true identities were anyone's guess. Seeing Wei Yuan pick a fight, they didn't utter a peep, immediately getting up and retreating to a corner, abandoning even the barely touched food and wine on the table.
Wei Yuan took a seat at the table and beckoned the waiter over. "Give me your most expensive courtyard, take my luggage inside, and make sure my horse is well-fed."
The waiter glanced out the door at the scrawny horse and the two wicker luggage baskets, then beamed with a flattering smile. "Rest assured, honored guest, we'll see to it that your immortal steed is fed like royalty!"
The words "immortal steed" pleased Wei Yuan immensely, squinting his beady eyes into near-slits with satisfaction.
Anyone working as a waiter in an inn in this kind of place was naturally no simpleton. He understood the temperament of sword cultivators: even if they were too broke to afford their next meal, they would still insist on a premier guest room, lest their sword hearts gather dust. As long as one catered properly to these masters, the payoffs were quite handsome. Many sword cultivators might lack money, but they sure were reckless spenders!
Wei Yuan ordered some wine and dishes, took a few casual bites, and headed toward the rear courtyard. By now, the innkeeper had hurried over to personally unlock the door to the largest courtyard, bowing and scraping as he followed Wei Yuan inside.
The courtyard was reasonably clean, though moss covered the stone walls and two small puddles pooled on the ground. A stone table and chairs stood in the yard, but they were soaked, requiring special rattan cushions before anyone could sit down. Dusk was already falling; without lamps lit, it was nearly impossible to see in the yard, whereas back at the Palace of Grand Beginning, this hour would still be bathed in broad daylight.
The innkeeper attentively lit the oil lamps and candles, ushered Wei Yuan to a seat inside the room, and only then clasped his hands together in his sleeves, asking, "Where does the exalted immortal hail from, and where might you be bound?"
Wei Yuan's face darkened. "What, does this place have authorities now? Do I need to register my business with you?"
The innkeeper offered an apologetic grin. "You jest, sir. How could there be authorities here? Even if there were, they'd have been overthrown long ago! I only ask because we run quite a few other enterprises on the side that could surely be of service to you. An expert like yourself—taking one look at our location, our building, and this courtyard—surely understands, doesn't he?"
Wei Yuan didn't quite understand, but he nodded nevertheless. "I ran into a bit of trouble back in Western Jin. Heard there were plenty of opportunities here, so I came to try my luck. When I've got time to kill, I take jobs too."
The innkeeper's smile widened. "May I ask what sort of business you take on?"
Wei Yuan drew a sword from the wicker basket and slapped it onto the table. "Anything that requires this."
"And might I ask, just how sharp is this blade of yours?"
Wei Yuan rolled his eyes. "I killed a vice general up for promotion back in Western Jin. What do you think?"
The innkeeper answered instantly, "Understood! If any Dao Foundation fellow is looking to die, sending them your way won't be a mistake!"
Wei Yuan said indifferently, "If an Earth Tier has had enough of living, they can look for me too."
"Understood!" The innkeeper, who had been standing reasonably straight, bowed his back a bit lower. "Could you grant us your moniker, sir? It will make it easier for your renowned name to spread through the underworld."
Wei Yuan said in a deep voice, "This one is the Double Paragon of Cauldron and Sword, Li Zhi!"
"Splendid! We might even have an assignment tomorrow. As a show of good faith, your room fee for the first three days is on the house."
Wei Yuan could keep his deadpan expression no longer, beaming with delight.
Chapter 100