Chapter 101: The Murderous Intent

A moment later, Chimei returned, carrying a long knife. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Young friend, you must think carefully. Taking this knife will only bring you more trouble.”

He hadn’t wanted to persuade him in the first place; whether it was the Shangqing Sect or Gezao Mountain, he didn’t wish to offend either.

Yi Fan took the knife, flicked the blade, and a clear, crisp sound rang out. “A fine blade. Thank you, Brother Chimei.”

With that, he led Yan Gui out of the mountain. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back. “Brother Chimei is right. After this, more trouble will surely follow. But in life, if you avoid everything, you cannot expect even the smallest path, let alone the great way.”

Having spoken, he walked on.

Chimei stood where he was, watching Yi Fan’s departing figure. He knew the young man’s resolve to kill was firm and so said no more.

Though he could not intervene directly, he decided to offer a small favor and called over Zhou Zijian.

...

Under the moonlight, Yi Fan passed through the forest and reached the foot of the mountain, only to see a figure following him out—it was Zhou Zijian.

“Brother Yi, Uncle Chimei asked me to tell you that in this thousand-mile territory, there are no high-level cultivators in Gezao Mountain. Once you succeed, leave immediately. It’s best to return to Shangqing Sect to lie low,” Zhou Zijian said, then gave the exact address of Fang Chen before turning away hastily, unwilling to stay even a moment longer.

Yi Fan gazed into the distance, shaking his head with a faint smile. Where could he hide now? He could only face whatever came — meet water with earth, meet soldiers with generals.

...

By the middle of the night, he returned to the Taoist temple, leading the old donkey toward Chengfeng County. The journey wasn’t far—only a few dozen miles—and they would arrive by mid-morning.

Chengfeng County was a small place, with few inhabitants and little commerce, yet the streets bustled with common folk. Despite a poor harvest year, some wealthy families remained, and carriages passed through, accompanied by continuous calls from street vendors.

Yi Fan stopped an old man on the street. “Respected elder, may I trouble you for some information? Do you know where Xingfeng Residence is?”

“Xingfeng Residence?” The old man’s eyes flickered strangely as he waved his hand dismissively. “You Taoist, with your clear features and young age, yet you wish to go to such a place, indulging in wine and women. I am ashamed to speak to someone like you. Move along, move along.”

Watching the elder storm off angrily, Yi Fan rubbed his nose. He was only asking for directions—what had he done to offend him? Fortunately, Xingfeng Residence was well-known here; almost every man had heard of it. After questioning several people, he finally discerned its location—in the northern part of the city.

Near noon, seeing a tavern by the roadside, he entered. The waiter greeted him and Yi Fan exchanged some small silver coins for provisions and ordered some food and wine, choosing a seat by the window.

He placed the little white fox on the table, gently patted its head, and filled a wine cup with water, setting it in front of her. “Rest assured, I will avenge this grievance for you.”

After a night’s rest, the little white fox had somewhat recovered and could barely stand, nuzzling Yi Fan’s hand with a listless expression.

In the center of the tavern, a storyteller clapped on a wooden board.

“Once in Linsheng County, there was a woman, unmarried but already pregnant. She gave birth to a monstrous child who could speak immediately, uttering words that chilled hearts. Can you guess what he said? He claimed to be a celestial star descended to earth, destined to ascend the throne and cleanse the world of its filth and corruption.”

Pausing, the storyteller struck the board again. “Ridiculous! The county magistrate of Linsheng took these words as divine prophecy and used it as an excuse to raise an army in rebellion, crowning the monster king. What happened next? In less than half a month, General Wei Lin beheaded him. As for the demon, he was thrown into boiling oil and burned to ashes.”

The crowd below erupted with cheers and debates, some shouting praises for the killing.

Yi Fan’s face remained expressionless as he raised the wine jug for a sip. Whether truth or rumor, this only proved the world was unraveling; even a minor county magistrate dared to rebel. What then of those local warlords controlling their own territories?

But this was not his concern, nor would it be.

After finishing his meal, he gave the provisions prepared by the waiter to Yan Gui to carry and stepped outside, heading straight for Xingfeng Residence.

The northern city was mostly residential. Xingfeng Residence was a large courtyard with a grand plaque outside and several red lanterns hanging. A few burly men stood on either side, glaring fiercely at passersby.

“Stop right there, Taoist! I’m talking to you.”

Before Yi Fan could approach, a thug stepped forward, sizing him up. “No idlers allowed. Get lost.”

Xingfeng Residence was no ordinary brothel; it catered to wealthy clientele. Ordinary folk without introductions or escorts could not enter.

It was daytime and the place was quiet, tucked away. Yi Fan hesitated briefly, then suddenly raised his head, shifted his body, and struck out with both hands, knocking two men down. Before another could shout, he flipped and delivered a kick to the man’s neck, knocking him unconscious.

Glancing at the three thugs sprawled on the ground, Yi Fan said to Yan Gui behind him, “Keep watch outside. Do not kill recklessly.”

With that, he slung the long knife on his back and entered.

Inside the courtyard, no one was present. Ahead lay a pavilion and a winding corridor, adorned with rock gardens, flowing water, lush trees, and blooming flowers, giving the place an elegant air.

After passing through several arched gates, a peculiarly dressed man yawned as he approached. Upon seeing Yi Fan, he paused in surprise. “Taoist, what brings you here?”

“I am here seeking someone.”

“Ha! Taoist, you jest. Who comes to Xingfeng Residence but to seek pleasure? But it is still early; the ladies are resting. Perhaps I can take you to a private room, pour some fine wine, and let you rest? Once the ladies are ready, they will attend to you.”

Yi Fan cut him off. “I come at the invitation of Brother Fang Chen to meet. Do you know where he is now?”

The man’s expression changed, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Bowing deeply, he said, “So you are a friend of Master Fang Chen. I should be ashamed for my blindness. Please, follow me; I will take you to him at once.”

Yi Fan said nothing, his silence deepening the man’s fear. He knew well who Fang Chen was—an exalted immortal figure, far beyond the likes of a mere mortal like himself.

Following the man swiftly through the back courtyard, they arrived at a secluded pavilion. The man stopped. “Taoist, Master Fang Chen is inside this building.”

Yi Fan nodded. “Does Brother Fang Chen often come here?”

“To answer your question, Master Fang Chen has been residing here recently. But he left a few days ago and only returned hastily last night, bringing three or four ladies with him. He has yet to come out since.”

Last night’s hurried return—there was no doubt it was Fang Chen. As for what lay ahead, Yi Fan would find out when he met him.

With that thought, he waved the man off. The man breathed a sigh of relief and quickly left, unwilling to linger any longer.