117: Traces of the Demon

Upon hearing this, Yi Fan grew thoughtful and puzzled. Since she was the late wife, why would she treat the Zhu family in such a manner? Could there be some hidden truth behind it? Moreover, from the moment he entered the Zhu residence until now, he had not sensed any abnormal aura.

There must be something suspicious.

At that moment, a man who appeared to be the steward entered and whispered something into Master Zhu's ear, then left immediately.

Master Zhu set down his teacup and said, “Daoist Yi, it’s already noon. I have instructed the servants to prepare food and wine. Please come with me.”

“Master Zhu, the meal is unnecessary. Perhaps I might take the opportunity to observe your residence more carefully?”

“Daoist Yi, don’t be anxious. It’s still early; the strange phenomena only occur after nightfall. Let’s eat first, eat first.”

Master Zhu waved his hand, showing no haste.

Upon leaving the sitting room, Gu Ye suddenly stopped. Yi Fan was taken aback and was about to ask when she suddenly leapt like a wisp of smoke, stepping along the eaves and vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Daoist Yi, this—?”

Yi Fan himself could not fathom why Senior Uncle Gu Ye had left, quietly musing to himself but smiling as he said, “Please forgive her, Master Zhu. She dislikes crowds and sought a quiet place to rest.”

Master Zhu stroked his beard. “A person of great stature, understood, understood.”

With that, he no longer questioned and led the way down a long corridor and through the garden to a side hall. The place was lively, with six or seven servants outside and even more people inside. Several large tables were filled with attendants, including Taoists, monks, and martial artists dressed in tight-fitting outfits—men and women, old and young, numbering more than a dozen.

Yi Fan was momentarily stunned and looked toward Master Zhu, who simply continued walking forward.

“Newcomers again? Hah, looks like earning this one hundred taels of gold won’t be easy. All sorts of monsters and demons keep showing up.”

“Oh, a handsome little Daoist, not bad, not bad.”

As he entered, murmurs erupted. All eyes focused on him—some curious, some mocking, many watching for entertainment, and even more hostile.

Yi Fan glanced around, sensing their auras. Among these dozen or so men and women, none were genuine cultivators. A few emitted strong auras and considerable power, while the rest were mediocre.

Of course, some concealed their presence, suppressing their aura—unless one’s cultivation far exceeded theirs, it was impossible to detect.

“This master, like the others, has come to respond to the notice,” Master Zhu said as he took his seat by the main table and gestured to a nearby chair. “Daoist Yi, please sit.”

By this point, Yi Fan understood—Master Zhu was desperate and grasping at straws. Anyone who came forward to answer the call was accepted. As long as they could resolve the family’s troubles, regardless of origin, they would be rewarded with gold and silver.

Thinking this over, he smiled inwardly. He was not here for the money.

Suddenly, he sensed someone watching him. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man dressed as a scholar drinking alone, though his gaze was filled with suspicion as he kept glancing at Yi Fan.

A cultivator? One stronger than himself.

Yi Fan was intrigued and raised his cup with a smile. The scholar was startled, then gave a silent laugh and averted his eyes. They exchanged no words.

After the banquet, as Yi Fan left the hall, the scholar called out, “Daoist Yi, please wait.”

Yi Fan turned and saw it was him, not surprised. He cupped his hands. “What wisdom do you wish to share, brother Daoist?”

“No wisdom, just a few questions I hope to ask,” the scholar said with a light laugh. “I am Shen San, a disciple of Mount Shu. Are you from the branch of the Shangqing Sect?”

A Mount Shu disciple? Yi Fan was delighted. Despite searching far and wide, he had found no one in Xunyang County. To meet one here was truly fate’s play.

“I see, Brother Shen San. My own origin is complicated,” Yi Fan said awkwardly, unsure how to explain himself. Changing the subject, he asked, “Do you happen to know Senior Brother Yan Chixia?”

“You know Senior Brother Yan?” Shen San was surprised, then smiled. “What a coincidence. Senior Brother Yan is just over ten miles away in the mountains. If you have no other matters, I can take you to see him.”

Yi Fan hesitated briefly before agreeing. The two excused themselves from Master Zhu and promised to return by evening. They hurried out of the city, activating their lightness skill, moving like swift horses, flying with rapid steps.

After half an incense stick’s time, they arrived at the foot of a great mountain. The area was remote, far from human habitation. Deeper within lay dense forests, thick branches, and rampant weeds. Even those with their abilities would find travel difficult here.

Finally, pushing aside the foliage, they reached a cliff valley. Near the mountain face was a clearing where five or six people were meditating.

Yi Fan was surprised to see Senior Uncle Gu Ye there, seemingly arrived not long ago as well.

Their arrival drew the attention of the group. Before they could approach, Yan Chixia’s voice rang out in surprise. “Young friend Yi Fan?”

It had been a long time since they last met. Yan Chixia’s beard had grown longer, though he remained much the same. His expression was slightly weary, hinting at trials endured.

Yi Fan stepped forward, greeting Senior Uncle Gu Ye first, then saluted Yan Chixia.

“You two know each other?” Yan Chixia asked, astonished.

He laughed, “I was worried you might have trouble meeting the main figure, but since you know each other, I’ll say no more.”

He was aware that this little Daoist was not truly a disciple of the Shangqing Sect, but from a side branch. If the main sect did not recognize him, it could spell trouble.

After some small talk, Yan Chixia examined the letter Yi Fan had handed him. Smiling, he pocketed it and glanced at Yi Fan.

“I didn’t expect you to know that rascal and even become friends. Rare, truly rare. That rascal has a worse temper than me and has offended more people, yet somehow he still has friends.”

Then he marveled, “I don’t know what luck you’ve been riding, but your cultivation has advanced so swiftly. Your innate talent is ordinary, but your fortune is impressive—a strange one indeed.”

He knew very well that when they first met, Yi Fan was a novice, barely entering the path. Now he had ascended to the inner hall. It was truly astonishing.

Shaking his head, Yan Chixia said, “Everyone has their own destiny. Like myself, without certain opportunities, how could I have reached my current level in just a few decades?”

“Yan Chixia, why have you brought me here?” Gu Ye suddenly interrupted the conversation coldly. His tone suggested that if no explanation was given, a fight might ensue.

Yi Fan suddenly understood why Gu Ye had abruptly left the Zhu residence earlier—it was Yan Chixia who had summoned her here.

Yan Chixia replied, “Sister Daoist Gu Ye, please don’t be angry. I did not deliberately call you here but released a ‘Summoning Talisman.’ Any disciples from allied sects of Mount Shu who pass nearby and reach a certain level are automatically drawn here.”

Upon hearing this, Gu Ye ceased questioning.

Yi Fan, however, was puzzled. “Senior Brother Yan Chixia, what has happened?”

“It’s a long story. Let me summarize,” Yan Chixia said.

Since the Battle of Lanruo Temple, Yan Chixia had pursued the Black Mountain Old Demon southward. After several confrontations, he nearly fell into a trap. Fortunately, with the help of comrades, he escaped. His cultivation advanced through these life-and-death trials, ascending to the first stage of the ‘Returning Elixir.’

At this stage, Yan Chixia realized the Black Mountain Old Demon was merely a fragment of the true form. Even so, its power was extraordinary and beyond his ability alone to destroy. Thus, he tracked it here and sought assistance from many fellow cultivators.

The ghost causing havoc in the Zhu residence was one of the spirits infected by the old demon’s power. Capturing her would lead them to the old demon’s lair.

Yi Fan’s mind filled with questions. “If that ghost was infected by the old demon and became one of its spirits, why does she appear alone?”

“That is unknown. But with Sister Daoist Gu Ye’s help, we will capture that ghost tonight and get answers. Whether it is a trap or an oversight, we must sever the old demon’s fragment.”

Yan Chixia snorted coldly. At first, he had been driven by righteous hatred, determined to fight the old demon. But after so many years, it had become a tormenting demon in his heart. Unless removed, he could not ascend the Mirror Realm.