Immortal Paladin

Gu Jie’s expression changed the moment she was out of Senior’s presence.

The faint traces of hesitation, embarrassment, and unease disappeared—replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.

She strode forward, posture loose but controlled, like a predator walking through its territory.

Survival had taught her well.

The gold coins Senior had handed her weren’t ordinary currency. Anyone with half a brain could tell they were relics of a foreign origin—the kind that could fetch a small fortune in the right hands.

Gu Jie knew better than to carry them carelessly.

She stopped in a secluded alleyway and carefully distributed the coins.

Some she hid within the folds of her ragged clothes, slipping them between layers of fabric where they wouldn’t jingle. Others she tucked into the bandages wrapped around her arms, pressing them against her skin.

Finally, she reached down and slid the pouch of local gold coins into her boot, ensuring quick access in case she needed to bribe or buy her way out of trouble.

With her funds secured, she resumed her path, weaving through the city’s back alleys like a ghost.

The streets here were different from the bustling, respectable parts of the city.

Here, the walls were covered in faint, peeling talismans, remnants of half-hearted wards meant to deter crime but long since forgotten. The air was thick with the scent of cheap liquor, damp wood, and desperation.

Every now and then, she caught glimpses of other shadows—ruffians, independent cultivators, and beggars who weren’t truly beggars.

She paid them no mind, and in turn, they ignored her.

This was neutral ground—a place where unspoken rules governed interactions.

Once upon a time, Gu Jie dreamed.

She dreamed of cultivation, of immortality, of a happy ending.

Even after she was born an orphan, she never lost hope.

Even after she was taken by a demonic cultivator, she never lost hope.

Even after her master had nearly crippled her, draining her life force to fuel his own path, she didn’t lose hope.

Even after losing everything—her Third Realm cultivation, her strength, her future—reduced to a mere First Realm insect in the blink of an eye, she still clung to hope.

She thought fate had finally answered her prayers when the righteous sects attacked.

When the heroes of justice came, blades gleaming with holy light, she rejoiced.

One day, she would become like them, she had thought.

But life was crueler than fiction.

She was branded as wicked.

She remembered standing alone, her weak body trembling, as they surrounded her—young heroes, eager-eyed and ambitious, whispering among themselves about who would take the credit for her severed head.

Her heart broke that day.

It shattered even further when her demonic master—the very monster they sought to destroy—resurrected in a burst of malicious Qi and slaughtered them all.

The same people she had admired.

The only silver lining?

She escaped.

But freedom came with its own price.

Her body, warped and frail from the flawed demonic techniques forced upon her, could not sustain itself.

Hunger gnawed at her. Cold nights stole her sleep.

She became a bandit to survive.

She robbed the weak. Threatened the helpless. Hurt those who resisted.

She came close to killing innocent people, but never dared.

Even at her lowest, she knew that crossing that final line meant no return.

Still, her targets were always mundane people—those who could not fight back.

It was pathetic, but it was the only way she could live.

Then came her greatest mistake—and perhaps her greatest fortune.

She misidentified her target.

She thought he was just another mortal—some young master of a poor clan, walking alone during the festival.

Cultivators, especially the powerful ones, didn’t like mingling with mortals.

This man had no weapons. No treasures. No strange aura.

He spoke to mortals easily, though he didn’t show it much.

He was too normal to be a cultivator.

Gu Jie trusted her instincts, her hard-earned tricks to detect Qi users.

And yet, she had been so wrong.

She had thought it would be a simple robbery.

Instead, she almost died.

Only to be miraculously healed.

That was the day she met him.

And now, here she was—walking through the alleys with his gold in her boot and his instructions in her mind.

Perhaps, just perhaps—hope was not lost after all.

But then again, life was crueler than fiction.

Gu Jie was not naive, but she was desperate.

Her intentions towards the mysterious Senior were not entirely pure—perhaps hopeful, perhaps selfish.

If she could show enough sincerity, if she could make him sympathize, then maybe—just maybe—he would take her as his disciple.

She had seen his movement technique.

Even now, she could recall the flawless execution, the way he flowed like the wind, disappearing and reappearing as if he had stepped outside the laws of the world.

It was not Qi-based.

While she didn’t have Qi Sense, she had enough Common Sense to deduce the lack of Qi when he performed the technique. For example, there was a lack of visual cues, like a spark of something, or a prickling feeling that pervaded the area when qi was used.

It was not something Gu Jie had ever seen before.

And it terrified her just as much as it fascinated her.

Was he a cultivator? A rogue immortal? Something beyond comprehension?

She did not know.

But what she did know was that he was her only chance.

Her only hope.

And he had shown already enough.

Gu Jie walked with purpose through the dimly lit back alleys. The air was thick with the stench of cheap liquor, unwashed bodies, and rotting food. Rats scurried past her feet, and distant murmurs of shady deals echoed in the distance.

She paid them no mind.

Her steps carried her to a familiar place—a small, rundown teahouse with faded red lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze.

There, seated at a wooden table, was an elderly man dressed in tattered gray robes. His wispy beard, once a sign of wisdom, had grown unkempt and uneven. His eyes, half-lidded and cloudy, still held a sharpness that belied his frail frame.

Old Song.

A relic of the past. A man who knew too much, yet lived too little.

He was hunched over a cup of steaming tea, fingers yellowed from years of handling ancient scrolls and hidden secrets.

As Gu Jie approached, his gaze flicked up—piercing, unreadable.

A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.

“Old Song,” Gu Jie said, her voice steady. “I have an errand for you.”

The old man chuckled, shaking his head. “I am an information broker, not your errand boy.”

Undeterred, Gu Jie continued, ignoring his protest.

“I want you to procure books, whether it be mundane or a cultivation manual. I will pay market price—and more. Let’s say… five percent commission for the total value of the books you manage to gather.”

Old Song raised a bushy brow. “Five percent? Hah! You must have found yourself a very generous master.”

Gu Jie’s expression did not waver.

“My benefactor is none of your concern.”

The old man took a slow sip of tea, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

“Oh, but it is, little girl. It always is.”

Gu Jie’s patience was thin.

She had no time for Old Song’s games.

“Don’t test my patience,” she remarked, her tone flat, unwavering. “Or we are going to have a problem.”

Old Song let out a slow, raspy chuckle. “Oh? And here I thought you were a little beggar girl not too long ago. Look at you now—ordering me around like a young miss of a noble house.”

His cloudy eyes held amusement, but he knew better than to push further.

Gu Jie remained silent, simply staring at him, waiting.

A moment passed. Then another.

Finally, Old Song sighed. “Fine. What else do you need?”

Gu Jie crossed her arms. “Directions.”

The old man raised a brow. “For what?”

“The famous salon, tailor shop, and spa treatment in Yellow Dragon City.”

That caught him off guard.

“…What?” He blinked at her, looking genuinely confused.

Gu Jie didn’t bother repeating herself.

Old Song leaned back, rubbing his chin. “You? Interested in such things? Didn’t take you for the type.”

She wasn’t, not really. But things had changed.

She had no time for vanity in the past. No opportunity for luxury. But now… she had no excuse either.

Her Senior had given her the means—the command even.

It would be shameful not to use them.

“…Well,” Old Song muttered, shaking his head. “I suppose even wolves like you have to clean up once in a while.”

Gu Jie narrowed her eyes.

Old Song waved a hand, chuckling. “Fine, fine. There’s a tailor shop near the southern market square—name’s ‘Golden Thread Pavilion.’ You’ll know it when you see it. The best salon? ‘Moonlit Silks’ over at the eastern district. As for spa treatment… well, you’ll want ‘Jade Serenity Bathhouse.’”

He tapped the table. “Expensive places. You sure about this?”

Gu Jie simply nodded.

Old Song exhaled sharply, looking at her with something that was not quite concern, not quite amusement.

“Hah… Well, well. Maybe you really have found yourself a master worth serving.”

Gu Jie said nothing.

She merely turned on her heel and left.

Shortly after…

The experience had been… comfortable yet overwhelming.

Gu Jie had never indulged in such luxuries before. Not once.

The Jade Serenity Bathhouse was far beyond what she was used to. She expected simple hot water, perhaps some herbs, but instead, she was met with fragrant steam, silk robes, and expert attendants trained in massage and acupressure techniques. The moment she stepped into the water, she nearly collapsed from sheer relaxation.

She hated how much she enjoyed it.

Then came Moonlit Silks, the salon. There, delicate hands combed through her tangled, brittle hair, trimming away the damaged ends, washing it with scented oils, and weaving strands into soft, flowing locks. For years, her hair had been rough, uneven, and neglected. Now? It felt light, smooth, and healthy.

And then, Golden Thread Pavilion.

The tailor had raised a brow when she entered, taking in her previously ragged state. But the moment she produced gold, their attitude shifted instantly.

The result?

She stood now, in front of a full-length bronze mirror, wearing a black and gold ensemble—elegant yet practical. Dark brown hair, freshly cut and styled, cascaded over her shoulders.

She barely recognized herself.

A stranger stared back at her.

For a brief moment, she looked like the heroic cultivators she had idolized in her youth.

Strong. Proud. Untouchable.

But then—

”Hic!”

A small hiccup escaped her lips.

Gu Jie froze, eyes widening slightly.

Her fingers tightened against the folds of her new robes.

She had spent years hardened by survival, reduced to nothing but a shadow, a scavenger, a ghost lurking in the underbelly of the world.

And yet…

In this moment, before the mirror—

She saw the dreaming girl she had once been.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Gu Jie was a patient hunter. She had survived by her wits and instincts, so finding her Senior—a man who stood out like a sore thumb in his emerald robes—was laughably easy.

After gathering information about the book purchase, one of the ”rats” informed her that the books she had ordered would be ready for pickup at first light the day after tomorrow. That business handled, she turned her focus toward locating her mysterious benefactor.

Normally, it would take her an hour at most to track a person of interest down in this crowded city, her miraculous Sixth Sense doing most of the work. Today, however, she was fortunate.

She spotted him immediately.

There, at an arcade stall.

Playing a children’s game.

Her footsteps slowed as she took in the surreal sight.

The Senior—who she still had no name for—was sitting in front of a shallow tub filled with small, darting goldfish. He held a thin, paper scoop, attempting to catch one without tearing the fragile material.

The stall owner, an elderly man, watched in amusement.

The Senior, however, was not amused.

His expression was one of intense focus, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stared down his tiny, fishy opponents.

Gu Jie’s lips twitched at the sight.

Still, she approached, stopping just behind him. The Senior flicked his gaze up, instantly recognizing her.

For a brief second, his eyes swept over her new appearance, taking in the freshly cleaned dark brown hair, the black and gold attire, the overall refined look.

And then—

”You look good,” he commented.

Gu Jie froze.

She had no idea how to react to such a simple, offhand compliment. No one had ever told her that before. Was it a test? A trap? A meaningless remark?

Swallowing her hesitation, she quickly regained her composure.

”Senior,” she said, bowing slightly. ”How may I be of service?”

She had hoped for some kind of recognition. A sign that he approved of her dedication. That she had done the right thing in following him.

Instead—

The Senior frowned at her.

Then, in a flat, annoyed tone, he said:

”Fuck off.”

Gu Jie’s lips twitched violently.

”Senior…?”

”Go enjoy the festival or something.” He flicked his wrist dismissively, not even sparing her a proper glance. ”I gave you money, didn’t I? Stop bothering me.”

She stared at him.

Her fearsome, mysterious, impossibly skilled benefactor.

Fighting a goldfish with a paper scoop.

…

Gu Jie took a deep breath.

She lowered her head slightly, her expression perfectly composed.

”Understood, Senior.”

Then, she turned on her heel and walked away, resisting the urge to rip her own hair out in frustration.