Starting Cultivation During a Trip

The cold evening sun and cawing crows are steeped in sorrow, when will the ghostly Chong creatures in the mountains ever rest?

Mist drifts, rain patters, the fierce tiger roars, piling up bones into ashes.

Under the dim yellow light, Hong San—also known as Lord Hongshan—cast a long shadow, pressing down like a swath of gloom. The thick gold chain around his neck flashed glaringly.

In this moment, the aura he exuded was wholly at odds with the shrewd, worldly merchant he’d previously seemed to be.

”Yin Hu... Lord Hongshan!”

Zhang Fan and Fang Changle both narrowed their eyes slightly, facing this man as if confronting the greatest enemy.

”Gu... no, I should call you Fang Changle now. Maoshan disciple. Letting you serve under me for so long—it truly was beneath you.” Lord Hongshan looked at Fang Changle, as if seeing an old friend again, his tone thick with knowing laughter.

Gu Yidao was the name Fang Changle used to infiltrate the Wuwei Sect. In theory, his identity should have been untouchable.

”So you knew all along who I am.” Fang Changle’s voice was low and steady.

Three years spent in bitter labor had given him time to think. The other side had surely seen through his disguise long ago, playing along, leaving him exploitable gaps, feigning the chance to surface, just to lure in the specialists from Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance—a trap to kill in one stroke, and then murder Fang Changle’s handler, pinning the blame on him.

”I’ve dealt with the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance for so many years—connections like these, I’ve got plenty...” Lord Hongshan smiled mildly.

He’d originally come from the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance, later entered business—his network practically unthinkable.

And besides...

”Your Maoshan sect also harbors Chong ghosts I’ve raised; as Maoshan’s chief disciple, how did you think you could infiltrate the Wuwei Sect without me noticing?” Lord Hongshan laughed softly.

”Whoever came up with the idea of planting you in the Wuwei Sect is a fool. Has the Daoist Sect truly run out of talent, or are you just collateral damage in their infighting?”

Every word from Lord Hongshan cut deep, striking at the heart.

”Yin Hu, I’ve cultivated for twenty years. If you could throw my Dao Heart into chaos with a few words, I might as well slit my own throat and be done.” Fang Changle sneered, his eyes cold and razor-sharp, unwavering.

Lord Hongshan registered this, and rather than anger, displayed a look of appreciation.

”No wonder you’re a Maoshan inheritor—your Essence, Qi, and Spirit run deep. You’re nothing like an ordinary Daoist Sect disciple...”

”Good. Very good. I didn’t waste all that effort on you.”

”All you want is to strip me of my standing, drive me to betray the Daoist Sect.” Fang Changle said coldly.

His identity outed, yet he lived still—not by chance.

Yin Hu valued his strength, and even more his rank; if he could force a Maoshan inheritor to break with his sect, the gain would far exceed simply killing him.

”Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance let you live; did you think they believe you’re innocent? They’re just wary of offending Maoshan.” Lord Hongshan’s smile was edged with sarcasm.

”Fang Changle, you still have a choice, even now.”

”I choose your mother!” Fang Changle’s temper burst through.

”I’ll give you another choice today—die by my hand, or die by his.”

Fang Changle’s gaze flicked to Zhang Fan. If facing Yin Hu alone, he’d never dare be arrogant, but he had some sense of Zhang Fan’s capabilities...

Two High Skills—far from ordinary: one, a Maoshan inheritor with the sect’s supreme treasure, the Red Dragon Fire Talisman; the other, a Zhenwu disciple, master of the Fire Dragon Pill Sword.

Together, confronting Yin Hu, they actually had a chance.

”Zhang Fan...”

Just then, Lord Hongshan’s eyelids lifted slightly as he looked toward Zhang Fan, a complex gleam in his eyes.

”We meet again. It’s been ten years since the last time—meeting like this, in these roles...”

Lord Hongshan sighed mournfully, not at all like enemies facing off, more as if reuniting with an old acquaintance.

”Ten years ago...” Zhang Fan’s eyes sharpened, cold light surging forth.

No need for more words—just this was enough. Zhang Fan knew—in that night beneath Dragon Tiger Mountain, Yin Hu was there too when his entire family was slaughtered.

”Dragon Tiger Red Moon... You and your old man, you barely escaped. Thirteen Zodiacs, experts of the Daoist Sect... so many powerful figures gathered, yet none could wipe out you father and son.”

At these words, even Fang Changle’s expression shifted, casting a surprised look at Zhang Fan.

As a Maoshan inheritor, he knew a lot of secret history. Lord Hongshan spoke little, but even so, the scattered clues were enough for Fang Changle to deduce much.

”What a pity...”

Suddenly, Lord Hongshan changed tack, pulling Fang Changle’s attention back. His gaze locked on Zhang Fan, lips curling in mockery.

”Even if you survived—you’re crippled now.”

”Now!”

Fang Changle shouted, taking the initiative. His figure sprang forth, erupting in fire; he became a streaking shadow, launching himself at Lord Hongshan.

He seized the momentum, charging like a wildfire.

”Mountain Lord Sacrificial Technique—ghost summoning!”

Lord Hongshan chuckled, standing firm. With a single hand, he formed a seal, muttering an incantation.

Swish—

Suddenly, a mound of fleshy pulp slid out from his sleeve, squirming slowly—it was a piece of human skin. The next instant, a cold wind surged from his Celestial Spirit, pouring into that writhing skin.

In moments, a figure took shape, blocking the way before Lord Hongshan—the very same Insect Treasure Vendor from before.

Roar—

Just as that happened, the Insect Treasure Vendor snapped open his mouth, bristling with squirming flesh-like teeth like insects. Then, locking on to the charging Lord Hongshan, he spat a splash of yellow-brown liquid.

Sizzle—

The yellow-brown liquid splashed onto the flames around Fang Changle, sending up thick green smoke and a piercing stink. The True Flame corroded instantly, vanishing before their eyes.