Late at night.
A figure landed within the inner city of Wanbeiwu.
A golden butterfly flew before Wen Li, guiding the way as she followed.
Suddenly, the butterfly stopped over a main street, fluttering within a fixed area.
Wen Li glanced around and saw signs of a struggle along the street. The surrounding vendor stalls were in total disarray, and the fruit scattered on the ground was still fresh.
The vendors hadn't come to clean up yet, suggesting the conflict had occurred not long ago.
Following the butterfly, Wen Li arrived at the entrance of a spirit medicine shop named “Virus-Toppling Pharmacy.”
The golden butterfly circled the area.
Thud!
Wen Li raised her leg and kicked the tightly shut door of the shop.
Boom—
A ripple of pale blue spiritual energy suddenly wavered across the door, and a barrier emerged. A cold man’s voice drifted out from within.
“We are not taking customers right now. Leave at once.”
Upon hearing this, Wen Li clicked her tongue and spent a long time rummaging through her storage bag.
Inside the shop, Wangquan Chumo noticed she hadn't left despite the warning. His expression cooled, and he waved his hand toward the door, sending a sharp, chilling aura racing toward Wen Li.
Wen Li, who was about to pull something out, narrowed her eyes. She reached out with her right hand and clenched her fingers. The surging attack that had burst through the barrier was instantly blocked in front of her. The stray hairs at her temples blew back, but she didn't retreat a single step.
“Take a good look. What is this?”
With a flick of her right hand, she dissipated the attack entirely. In her left hand, she held up a black token.
The token shimmered in the night, revealing a strange, mysterious inscription.
The man inside, who had been organizing medicinal ingredients, slowly turned around. He cast a contemptuous glance and sent out his divine sense through the barrier and wooden door to investigate.
“!” This was...
In a split second, the indifference in the eyes of the man, whose lower face was covered by a silver filigreed mask, vanished. His gaze filled with sudden astonishment and solemnity.
The barrier at the door disappeared instantly, and Wen Li stepped inside.
The barrier was restored immediately after she entered.
Wangquan Chumo looked at Wen Li’s disguised, unfamiliar face, yet he didn't doubt her identity for a second. He stepped forward and bowed.
“Greetings to—”
“Did something happen in front of your door today?”
Wen Li spoke a step ahead of him, cutting off the title that was about to escape his lips as she tucked the token away. This detail caused the man’s eyes to flicker slightly, and he immediately understood.
He stood up straight. His expression remained respectful, though it was no longer as visibly excited and reverent as before.
“During the Shen shichen this afternoon, Helian Zhou, the Left Protector of the Moquan Sect, surrounded and captured six people from Danfeng Valley: Fifth Elder Luo Yuntian and five disciples.” After a pause, he added, “There was also a young boy. After Luo Yuntian shouted for him to run, Helian Zhou assumed he was a Danfeng Valley disciple as well and took him away.”
Wen Li didn't even need to think to know that the boy was her unlucky disciple.
However, a sliver of doubt crossed her mind. “The boy didn't explain?”
Gu Linshu loved to read, but he wasn't a total bookworm. How could he have been dragged down like that by that old man Luo Yuntian?
“...” He explained, but he didn't quite explain.
Wangquan Chumo fell silent, unsure of how to describe the bizarre and comical scene. Instead, he pulled out the shadow stone from the front of the shop.
He was about to address her by title again, but he paused and corrected himself.
“One look and Senior will understand.”
It was rare to see such a vivid look of speechlessness on Wangquan Chumo’s usually icy face.
Wen Li took it with suspicion and curiosity. With a wave of her hand, the shadow stone immediately projected a scene like a movie above them.
At the start, the recording showed the Moquan Sect chasing the five members of Danfeng Valley near the medicine shop.
Just as Helian Zhou was about to capture the last person—Luo Yuntian, who was collapsed against the shop wall...
Gu Linshu appeared. Like a little lamb entering a bloody wolf-pack hunt, he looked awkward and nervous.
Wen Li also heard the following dialogue, which made the air thick with second-hand embarrassment.
“R-Run! Run quickly!” Luo Yuntian “kindly” warned.
“Are you also from Danfeng Valley?” Helian Zhou asked.
“I-I-I-I-I-I a-a-a-am...”
“You’ve got guts to admit it. Since you're being honest and I don't feel like hitting you, let’s go.”
Thud.
The scene ended with Gu Linshu being knocked unconscious and carried away due to the misunderstanding caused by his stuttering. His head even bumped against the wall, causing his equipment to fall off.
“...”
Wen Li’s face felt hot. For some reason, she felt deeply embarrassed.
She had imagined ten thousand reasons why Gu Linshu might be kidnapped—perhaps he accidentally flaunted his wealth, perhaps someone targeted his talent to force him into a discipleship like Xie Tinglan, or perhaps he accidentally got into a fight and made an enemy.
She never imagined such a ridiculous, frustrating, and baffling reason.
Being captured as an accomplice just because he stuttered—this footage was practically Gu Linshu’s dark history.
“Where is the Cangchen Brush he dropped at the door?”
Wen Li put the shadow stone into her own pocket instead of returning it to Wangquan Chumo. Oh, that was the storage bag specifically for storing shadow stones of various cultivators' dark histories.
Last time, Gu Linshu had been speechless that his ancestors' dark histories were in there too. This time, even he hadn't escaped.
Wangquan Chumo flipped his hand. His palm had obvious callouses, yet the back of his hand was smooth and handsome. A brush made of red sandalwood, gold, and jade appeared in his palm, and he handed it to Wen Li.
“It is here.”
Wen Li took it and inspected it. Fortunately, it wasn't broken. If it were, she’d have to find another brush for her disciple. He was used to this High-Grade artifact, and her heart would bleed if she had to spend the money for a replacement.
After stowing the Cangchen Brush away, the two of them sat down at a nearby table. She looked up at him. “You’ve seen him. What do you think of his talent?”
“He is only fourteen years of age and already in the Early-Stage Foundation Establishment. When he bought medicine, I observed that the callouses on the knuckles of his right index and middle fingers were quite thick—marks left by years of holding a brush. To be able to wield a High-Grade artifact like the Cangchen Brush, his talent for talismans must be once in ten thousand years.”
Wangquan Chumo poured her a cup of tea, though he poured himself wine. The silver filigreed mask on the lower half of his face flickered with a cold, refined light. The eyes and brows revealed on the upper half were sharp and piercing, yet it wasn't the arrogant spiritedness of a youth, but rather a restrained, sharpened edge tempered by time.
“Since Senior has taken him as a disciple, your judgment naturally wouldn't be poor.” He pushed the teacup toward Wen Li.
He had guessed the relationship between the boy and Wen Li.
She picked up the teacup and sipped it slowly, saying calmly, “You could see the callouses on his knuckles from practicing calligraphy and talismans, yet you couldn't see the callouses on the webbing of his thumb from holding a sword—or perhaps, you simply didn't want to see them.”
Wangquan Chumo gripped his wine cup, his fingers tightening. He did not drink.
“Senior knows. I am now but a man of leisure. I will never raise a sword again in this life.”
With that, he removed the silver carved mask from his lower face. Beneath his handsome upper features, however, was a cheek marked by a long scar.
The scar extended from his chin all the way to his cheekbone. The reddish-black scab looked quite unsettling.
Yet, overall, he wasn't ugly. He even possessed the chilling aura of a swordsman who had survived a life-and-death battle.
Wen Li leaned back in her chair, her fingers twirling the teacup. “As you know, people only ever hear what they want to hear.”
This caused Wangquan Chumo’s brow to furrow. It wasn't out of resistance, but simply a helpless sigh.
“Senior is still as overbearing as ever, leaving others with no choice.”
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