Fang Tianxin breathed a sigh of relief: “Then I’ll head out. See you.”
Lian Yunzhi: “See you.”
After Fang Tianxin left, Lian Yunzhi followed the blood trail into the alley alone.
Twilight faded; the alley was dark and deep.
Lian Yunzhi walked nearly a hundred steps before spotting at the dead end the rumored patricide and matricide, spiritual root-crippled outcast.
A cultivator’s senses were sharp; Lian Yunzhi clearly saw the huddled, trembling figure emitting faint breaths.
The man was barely clothed, lacking an outer robe and wearing only thin, filthy, tattered undergarments stained with blood and torn in large gashes, revealing mangled flesh beneath.
Moreover, his exhales outnumbered inhales—he seemed on the verge of death.
Lian Yunzhi instantly lost interest in landing three kicks or settling old scores.
—This guy looked half-dead. Another three kicks might finish him off, and he’d bear a life on his conscience.
He was a cultivator, destined for immortality. He could not casually accrue karma or take lives, leaving needless slaughter behind.
Yet leaving empty-handed felt unsatisfying. Lian Yunzhi circled Mu Cheng, located his head, and stopped.
“Hey.”
Mu Cheng’s head twitched. He seemed to struggle to lift it but failed.
So Lian Yunzhi lent a hand.
With his shoe tip, he hooked Mu Cheng’s chin, forcing his head up.
His gaze scanned Mu Cheng’s face inch by inch: the filthy long hair matted with blood and dust, the ferocious whip scar splitting his right cheek and flipping flesh outward, the eyes that no longer laughed squeezed shut, devoid of light.
Lian Yunzhi recalled many things.
He remembered waking after falling into the water eight years ago, marching aggressively to the Mu Mansion with attendants for payback, only to be scolded and stopped by his father: “The Mu Mansion isn’t ordinary anymore. Don’t cause trouble.”
He remembered his grandfather’s delighted laughter upon the Spirit Testing Stone revealing his top-grade wood Single Spiritual Root, and how the next day, news spread that Mu Cheng possessed the world’s rarest “Myriad Absorption Spiritual Root,” making the Lian Family’s three-day celebratory feast for Lian Yunzhi’s superior spiritual root look like a joke.
He remembered arduously cultivating to become the first among peers to achieve Drawing Qi into Body, only for Four Directions City to buzz that same night with news of Mu Cheng breaking through three layers straight to Qi Refining Layer 3.
He remembered how he had barely escaped death, risking everything to successfully reach Foundation Establishment. He had thought Mu Cheng was dead, that he himself was now the foremost among his peers. Yet, the first news he heard upon emerging from seclusion was: Mu Cheng hadn’t died in the secret realm—he had formed his Golden Core.
He remembered his first Third-Order Demon Beast kill, how he had been bursting with pride, overjoyed beyond measure, heedless of the wounds covering his body. Yet just a few days later, Mu Cheng had casually sold the pelt of a Fifth-Order Demon Beast he had hunted and indifferently brushed off the surrounding praise: “A Fifth-Order Demon Beast? What’s there to brag about? Should I hire a storyteller to recount it at a teahouse?”
Thus, everyone said that the storyteller who had spent three days at the teahouse narrating Lian Yunzhi’s demon-hunting exploits must have been hired by Lian Yunzhi himself.
He hadn’t! He had only sent a servant over with a hefty tip the first time he heard that man boasting about himself!
…
Lian Yunzhi took a deep breath to calm his emotions.
He stopped dwelling on the past and focused on the present.
He sensed his abundant Foundation Establishment Mid Stage cultivation and looked toward the filthy wreck who had once been Heaven’s Proud Son.
The wreck opened his eyes.
Those eyes were threaded with bloodshot veins, red and fierce like those of a wounded cub wolf, yet utterly useless.
“Tsk,” Lian Yunzhi forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and let out a soft scoff, “Young Master Mu, it’s been years, and you’ve fallen this low?”
Young Master Mu stared at him.
The red veins in his eyes gradually faded.
“…Who are you?”
Lian Yunzhi: “…”
Lian Yunzhi was stunned.
He was too shocked to even get angry. He immediately bent down and waved his hand in front of Mu Cheng’s face. “Are you blind?”
Mu Cheng’s eyes followed Lian Yunzhi’s palm, clearly not blind.
But his expression remained calm and unruffled, with a faint trace of confusion in his eyes.
Lian Yunzhi gnashed his teeth in disbelief. “You… don’t… recognize… me?!”
Mu Cheng tilted his head slightly, his expression seeming to say: Should I know you?
Lian Yunzhi took one, two, three deep breaths and finally calmed down.
“Have you lost your memory?” Lian Yunzhi asked.
Mu Cheng shook his head. His gaze calmly swept over Lian Yunzhi, as if to say: Are you someone important? Why should I remember you?
Lian Yunzhi: “…”
Lian Yunzhi: “…”
Lian Yunzhi was about to explode with rage!!!
He didn’t care about the filth on Mu Cheng’s body anymore. He grabbed the man’s collar and yanked him up from the ground.
But this violent motion immediately tore at Mu Cheng’s wounds. Mu Cheng spat out a mouthful of blood with a “pfft,” his eyes rolled back, and he fainted. His breathing and pulse were nearly imperceptible—he looked no different from a corpse.
Lian Yunzhi was in the heat of his anger—how could he let him die just like that?
He immediately pulled out a Spirit Replenishing Pill and stuffed it into Mu Cheng’s mouth.
One, two, three…
Mu Cheng’s Spiritual Root was crippled, his cultivation destroyed, and there was a huge hole in his Dantian. These Spirit Replenishing Pills had some effect, but it was minimal.
Three or four pills went down like a drop in the ocean, leaving almost no trace.
Lian Yunzhi frowned, pried open his mouth, and poured an entire bottle of Spirit Replenishing Pills down his throat.
It seemed to have some effect—his breathing, heartbeat, and pulse steadied a bit. He didn’t look quite so close to death anymore, but he was still unconscious.
Lian Yunzhi’s face darkened as he hoisted the man over his shoulder and headed toward the Lian Family.
The moon rose above the treetops, casting a clear, cold light over the narrow alley.
The wreck, slung over Lian Yunzhi’s shoulder like a sack of grain, quietly opened his eyes.
His head dangled behind Lian Yunzhi’s back, watching the filthy, dim alley recede bit by bit.
His cheek gently, unknowingly, pressed against Lian Yunzhi’s back.
A faint, pleasant grassy scent enveloped him.
…Lian Yunzhi.
The wreck silently repeated the name in his heart.
How could he not remember Lian Yunzhi?
After all, this man was different from everyone else.
He was clean. Fragrant.
Mu Cheng had noticed this the first time he saw him at the Immortal Assembly Banquet.
