Infinite Save: I Cultivate Immortality Through Reincarnation

This was not Chen Yan’s first time stepping into this place.

The waves of shouting and clamor from the gambling den’s outer area rushed over him, the sound of dice clacking against the bottom of a celadon bowl mixed with the clink of spirit stones dropping into pouches, feeling like hundreds of venomous insects crawling across his eardrums.

“What would this immortal master like to play?”

Just as Chen Yan stepped past the screen that separated the gambling den’s entrance, a staff member hurried up to him. The flattering smile creased by the crow’s feet at the corner of the man’s eyes looked like crumpled paper.

After returning to the sect from Taiyun City last time, Chen Yan had overheard a few disciples talking about stories from the gambling den.

He knew that these staff who latched onto newcomers immediately upon entry were called “guide rats” by the den, and gamblers referred to them simply as rats.

For lone gamblers like Chen Yan, the den’s rats were always the most enthusiastic. One reason was that the staff had to maintain a proper service attitude, and the other was that a solitary patron presented the best opportunity to squeeze out extra profit.

“I’m looking for someone.”

Chen Yan said.

“Which immortal master are you looking for?”

“Manager Ding.”

When Chen Yan spoke the name, the rat’s expression shifted slightly, then quickly returned to normal.

“May I ask if the immortal master is—”

Chen Yan scanned the surroundings to ensure no one was paying attention to him, then took a wooden token from his bosom and ran his fingertip over the four characters carved into it: Kongshan Kongyuan.

“Kong—Inner gate disciple of Kongshan Sect…”

The rat began to stammer.

His reaction was understandable.

Kongshan Sect loomed like a mountain over the entire Taiyun City. Whether it was the Cloud Prince or the city lord, both would lower their heads before Kongshan Sect’s stationed envoy. And the stationed envoy was nothing more than an ordinary outer sect disciple of Kongshan Sect.

In fact, Kongshan disciples were relatively common here; every day the den’s inner and outer areas would show a few of their figures.

What really surprised the rat was that this man, dressed plainly and looking like some rogue cultivator from who-knows-where, had suddenly produced an identity token of an inner gate disciple of Kongshan Sect.

He immediately began to worry that he might have said something wrong that offended a big shot in front of him.

“Go tell Manager Ding I’m looking for him, and don’t blab this to anyone, or else…”

Chen Yan flipped the token closed and casually glanced at the staff member.

In an instant, Chen Yan’s true qi surged, a powerful pressure sweeping over him that was difficult to describe. In that single moment, every hair on his body stood on end and cold sweat trickled down his neck.

“Y-yes!”

The gambling den’s guide rat’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice, and visible panic leaked from him. He then practically tumbled and scrambled toward the inner area.

Chen Yan watched his hasty retreat and exhaled lightly.

Although Chen Yan’s cultivation, compared with those high-ranking figures in the sect who often rated Spirit Connection or Myriad Transformations, was like an ant, for ordinary mortals he only needed to emit a bit of true qi to become the master of all things in their eyes.

About half an incense stick’s time later, the same woman he had seen last time arrived. She wore a gauzy dress, was delicate-faced and tall, and walked up to Chen Yan with measured steps.

“Apologies for the wait, fellow cultivator. Please follow me.”

She said it simply, businesslike.

She handled things efficiently.

Chen Yan did not say much either and followed her.

Like last time, Chen Yan was led back to that private room.

The woman pushed the door open, then turned slightly and gave Chen Yan a bow.

Inside the private room, Manager Ding reclined sideways in a grand chair behind the table, holding a blade of grass between his teeth. When Chen Yan entered, he straightened up.

“You’re not worried I’ll pull up that potted plant on your table, are you?”

Chen Yan said.

Manager Ding glanced at the potted plant on the table, gave a short laugh, then spat the grass from his mouth.

“If it’s pulled up, we’ll just replace it with another pot.”

“Now, can you hand me whatever Steward Song gave you?”

Chen Yan produced a jade token from his bosom engraved with the four characters Qingchan Martial Decree.

“Of course.”

Seeing the Qingchan Martial Decree in Chen Yan’s hand, Manager Ding smiled.

“I really don’t know who you are. An Inner Gate disciple of Kongyuan Mountain, yet you can obtain Elder Fu’s token.”

“Are you trying to pry into Kongshan Sect’s internal affairs, Manager Ding?” Chen Yan asked.

“No, no, no, I would never dare. Please don’t pin such a big label on me,” Manager Ding hastily waved his hands.

A pigeon-egg-sized jade flashed on his right thumb.

No matter how many times Chen Yan looked, he could hardly reconcile this smooth, worldly, silk-clad gambling den manager with that rough-clothed, stubbled man who carried a great blade two years later. Yet they were, oddly enough, the same person.

“In other words, returning this hot potato at last makes me breathe easier,” Manager Ding said, then reached into a secret compartment in the side wall of the private room and pulled out a palm-sized box, which he handed to Chen Yan.

“This is what Steward Song entrusted me to keep. He said only Elder Fu of Qingchan Peak, or someone holding the Qingchan Martial Decree, or Steward Song himself could take it away.”

Chen Yan stared at the box in his hand, very lightly.

Inside it was the thing Steward Song risked his life to pass on?

“If you knew it was a hot potato, why did you take it at all?” Chen Yan asked.

Manager Ding smiled and said, “I’m just a rogue cultivator. The reason I’ve risen to my current position is purely because of one word: righteousness.”

Ha, what a righteous word.

“Did anyone else come asking about this?” Chen Yan continued.

“No, only you visited,” Manager Ding answered.

That made sense. Most people would never think that Song Mingde would hand such an important thing to a gambling den manager for safekeeping. If it weren’t for Sun Lu accidentally learning of it, Chen Yan wouldn’t have come here either.

But Chen Yan could not let his guard down. Since Steward Song’s incident, someone had been watching him. Zhang Xishun’s appearance during the outer court competition was proof enough.

Was no one watching him now?

Chen Yan could not be sure whether his two visits to the den had been leaked and he was being observed.

In the current situation, staying out in the open could mean danger at any moment.

…But what if he read the contents of this list first?

Chen Yan thought to himself.