Chapter 7: Lost
Meng Zhifan realized he was lost.
He stood there holding the lotus-shaped fan he had just bought from a vendor, somewhat bewildered.
In the short time it took to pay, Rong Zhao had disappeared.
After waiting for a while, instead of Rong Zhao returning to find him, someone else approached.
"Fellow Daoist," the newcomer greeted politely, striking up a conversation, "I am Shan Yin of the Immortal Alliance. The mask on your face looks somewhat familiar to me; it seems to be the treasured artifact of the Chuyun Sect, which was recently lost. Don't be nervous, I just wanted to ask where you got this mask. Would you mind coming into the teahouse for a chat?" He then pointed to the teahouse not far away—
The Immortal Alliance.
Meng Zhifan was startled, recalling what Rong Zhao had said on their first meeting.
"Do you know that my fearsome reputation is capable of stopping children from crying at night? I have killed more people than you've eaten grain of salts. Just a few days ago, I wiped out the entire Chuyun Sect, and my name is on the Immortal Alliance's list..."
His eyelids twitched.
Not to mention that the Immortal Alliance seemed to have a bad relationship with Rong Zhao, this man before him was a cultivator, while he was a mere flesh-bodied spirit mushroom thrown onto the street, temporarily without protection.
He was no different from meat on a chopping board.
After a moment of silence, Meng Zhifan smiled amicably and said, "Unfortunately, I got separated from my friend and am currently looking for him."
The implication was clear, he didn't have time for this.
Unexpectedly, Shan Yin was even more enthusiastic, his attitude familiar, as if they had known each other for years: "Looking for someone? Shall I join you? Oh, fellow Daoist… it's alright if you don't want to talk about the origin of this mask. I'm just curious, no ill intentions."
Meng Zhifan took another look at him.
This man had handsome features, a round face, almond-shaped eyes, and a naturally smiling expression. A faint, playful smile seemed to linger in his gaze. His ponytail was tied high at the back of his head, with a white jade hairpin inserted diagonally, the ends swaying as he spoke.
He didn't look like a scheming cultivator, but rather like an eighteen or nineteen-year-old boy, making him instantly approachable.
For some reason, Meng Zhifan felt a sense of familiarity.
It was as if he had seen him somewhere before
—
Inside the residence of Immortal Ming Chen.
Fang Jiuhe was resting with his forehead pressed against his hand, his eyes closed, when a wild goose jade pendant hanging from his waist flickered.
He took off the pendant, brushed his fingers across it, and said, "Didn't I say..."
"Fang Jiuhe, I found Ming Chen." Shan Yin followed Meng Zhifan at a distance, lowering his voice excitedly, "Those eyes look so similar, this time it's definitely him."
"You've said that to me eight hundred times, and you've never found the right person?" Fang Jiuhe retorted, pouring cold water on him, "Your avatar has even risen to the rank of manager in the Immortal Alliance in the mortal realm, why are you still so prone to making a fuss?"
"...Mind your own business." Shan Yin said angrily, "Old man."
"How presumptuous." Fang Jiuhe smiled lazily, casually fiddling with the wild goose jade pendant, as if fiddling with Shan Yin himself, "The avatar only has twenty percent of the immortal essence of the original body, be careful."
"Didn't you say it wouldn't matter if he died?"
"That's Ming Chen."
"... alright, alright, I get it."
The telepathic connection ended.
Fang Jiuhe put away the jade pendant and turned his attention to the pile of jade slips on the table.
He had borrowed Ming Chen's study.
Given their relationship, Ming Chen wouldn't mind.
Ever since Ming Chen descended to the mortal realm to undergo tribulation, only for his avatar to be attacked at the Heavenly Gate and fell to the mortal world, leaving only a crippled immortal who had taken his own life on the spot. Fang Jiuhe had been secretly investigating the matter.
A mortal cultivator who attained the Dao and ascended to immortality passed through the Heavenly Gate and entered the Heavenly Sea Realm, becoming an Immortal Lord.
However, this did not mean their journey was over once and for all.
Every hundred years, the Heavenly Dao would send down a tribulation, the nature of which was uncertain and entirely dependent on luck. It could be the tribulation of wind, thunder, rain, fire, life and death, and even the love tribulation that no one ever wished to draw.
The more times one successfully undergoes tribulation, the stronger one's immortal essence becomes; surviving six tribulations elevates one to the rank of High Immortal. Failure, however, results in either immediate death or the gradual stripping of one's immortal essence by the Heavenly Dao, ultimately reducing one to a ‘crippled immortal’ with a lifespan of less than two hundred years.
Fang Jiuhe underwent twelve tribulations by the Heavenly Dao and became a High Immortal long ago.
However, for some unknown reason, after the ninth tribulation, he failed to successfully undergo tribulation again, his immortal essence steadily declining, and his body deteriorating day by day.
If he failed to undergo tribulation again within a hundred years, he would fall from the rank of High Immortal to the rank of Immortal Lord.
However, Fang Jiuhe was not concerned.
After all, he was protected by Ming Chen, who underwent tribulations as easily as drinking water and had successfully completed eleven tribulations in a row.
He was most worried about Shan Yin.
Shan Yin had a restless and impulsive nature and had only undergone four tribulations, yet he always rashly descended to the mortal realm. He didn't even consider what use that avatar with only 20% of his immortal essence could be in the mortal world; he truly reckless and naive.
But he couldn't stop him anyway, so he could only trouble himself to keep a close eye on him.
Fang Jiuhe sighed.
He casually opened a jade slip and glanced at it briefly.
"...Aren't there too many immortal lords dying from love tribulations?" He looked at the records, made a quick calculation, and frowned. "Seventy percent?"
Love tribulations, even if one failed to overcome them immediately, it rarely resulted in death.
A long time ago, he had calculated it out of boredom and found that although love tribulations were difficult, the probability of death was very low, only about thirty percent.
Much better than life-or-death tribulations.
Now it had skyrocketed to seventy percent, which was really strange.
However, the relevant records were scattered, and no one had noticed them yet; he had gone to great lengths to obtain these jade slips.
Fang Jiuhe fell into a deep thought.
Could it be that the ambush Ming Chen suffered while descending to the mortal realm to undergo his tribulation was also related to this?
He pondered for a moment and began to examine the contents of the remaining jade slips one by one.
-
Shan Yin was following Meng Zhifan closely, going wherever Meng Zhifan went.
"Fellow Daoist, Fellow Daoist..." Shan Yin kept hovering around him, very noisy. "You said you're looking for someone, what kind of person? I can help you, you know."
Meng Zhifan was so bothered by him that he could only describe, "A person dressed in black with black hair, thin and small."
"That's it?" Shan Yin looked around at the surging crowds of the Lotus-Picking Festival. "How are we supposed to find him? Are there any other distinctive features... Hey, wait for me!"
Meng Zhifan didn't pay much attention to him, avoided the crowds, and walked to a slightly quieter corner, and watching the passersby, lost in thought.
He quickly figured out why Rong Zhao hadn't come looking for him.
This mask could block divine sense detection; if he remembered correctly, this was also a method cultivators used to track down people.
No wonder.
Taking off the mask was easy, but he didn't know whether Rong Zhao would find him first, or whether other cultivators would discover him first.
Meng Zhifan thought for a moment, then turned around and almost bumped into that Immortal Alliance cultivator.
"..."
With such a tail following him, it wasn't easy to take off his mask.
Shan Yin, completely unaware that he was being considered a nuisance, leaned closer and said, "I haven't yet asked your name, fellow Daoist. May I ask which sect you belong to?"
"My surname is Meng, Meng Zhifan, from..." Meng Zhifan answered cooperatively, then suddenly paused, abruptly raising his eyes to look at the distant lotus lake. "Oh no, someone has fallen into the water."
"What? Where?" Shan Yin turned his head to look.
In that brief moment of distraction, the person behind him had slipped into the crowd like a fish and vanished from sight.
Shan Yin: "..."
He searched the crowd for a while, but couldn't find him. Frustrated, he tapped the wild goose jade pendant and said, "Fang Jiuhe, I lost him."
The jade pendant lit up, and Fang Jiuhe's voice came through: "How did you lose him?"
"He disappeared as soon as I turned around."
The jade pendant remained quiet in Shan Yin's palm for a moment, then lit up again: "In the Immortal Alliance you're in, are there not many capable people?"
"Not really." Shan Yin was puzzled. "Why are you suddenly asking about this?"
"Oh, nothing." Fang Jiuhe's lazy voice sounded a bit irritating. "I was just thinking, if someone like you can become a manager, they must truly be lacking in talent..."
"Snap!"
Shan Yin angrily cut off the telepathic connection.
He walked aimlessly along the riverbank for a while, then suddenly stopped and focused, carefully sensing the air around him.
"This is..." Shan Yin looked at a certain place in surprise, "The aura of the flesh-bodied Spirit Mushroom!? There's actually a flesh-bodied Spirit Mushroom in this place??"
-
When Rong Zhao arrived, the street had almost been razed to the ground.
The fragile mortal he had carefully nurtured, protecting him from any bumps or bruises, was now pale-faced from the chaotic spiritual energy, huddled at the base of a crumbling wall, covered in dust, a trace of blood still clinging to his lips.
Venerable Rong was instantly enraged.
He paid no heed to the people below, flicking his sleeve, unleashing a torrent of spiritual energy that crashed down, raising a cloud of dust. The already ravaged street was reduced to rubble, everything reduced to dust.
"...Who are you!?"
"Who attacked... Oh, isn't this the Canling Sect? You dare to challenge us?"
"Everyone can obtain the Flesh-bodied Spirit Mushroom, why can you snatch it but we can't??"
"May I ask which senior is this? Xiangzhu Sect urgently needs the Flesh-bodied Spirit Mushroom, could we exchange it for other treasures..."
Rong Zhao had no time to listen to the clamor below, swiftly disappearing into the dust, like a black cloud.
The crystalline threads unfurled in an instant, blanketing the area like a net, each one vibrating like a harp string, bursting into countless blossoms of blood. Indiscriminate slaughter, friend or foe, power or aggression, anyone who dared to lay a finger on the mortal under his protection was mercilessly crushed.
A massacre with no chance of resistance.
The stench of blood filled the air, so intense it was nauseating. The churning dust gradually dissipated, revealing a scene of carnage and mangled corpses.
Only Meng Zhifan and that broken wall remained… or so it seemed.
Rong Zhao withdrew his Rao Zhi Rou; blood trickled down the threads, soaking half his robe, even the ends of his hair tinged with an eerie red.
He raised his eyes, coldly looking at the third living person who shouldn't have been there.
Shan Yin: "..."
He was naturally present too.
But not to steal the Flesh-bodied Spirit Mushroom.
A quarter of an hour ago, Shan Yin arrived here and immediately spotted Meng Zhifan, who was surrounded and had removed his mask.
He would recognize those eyes, that expression, that aura even if he were reduced to ashes.
So when that sudden surge of powerful spiritual energy struck, he instinctively turned to protect him. Unexpectedly, just as he approached the broken wall, Ming Chen grabbed him and pulled him into his arms.
...
If it weren't for Ming Chen, he would probably be in the same state as those torn cultivators.
Shan Yin steadied himself and looked at the unexpected newcomer, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Black clothes, black hair, thin and small...
Wait.
Shan Yin was horrified.
How could this face be exactly the same as Rong Zhao, the number one villain on the Immortal Alliance's list??
He swallowed hard, secretly nudged Meng Zhifan with his elbow, and whispered to confirm, "Is he the friend you got separated from?"
Meng Zhifan hummed in agreement, released him, and stood up, dusting himself off.
He took a few more steps, flipped over a stone, picked up the mask that had been underneath, and put it on.
"You're here?" He reached out to Rong Zhao, as casually as if he had just been drinking tea and waiting for someone in the teahouse. "Remember to walk slower next time, don't lose me again."
