Chapter Eleven: The Visit of Old Daoist Chen

The news of the Blackwood Stronghold’s annihilation swept across the skies of Bluestone Town like a sudden clap of spring thunder.

Initially, it was shock. A malignant tumor that had festered for decades, posing a headache even for the local garrison, had been reduced to scorched earth overnight—it was simply inconceivable. This was followed by euphoria. The mortal merchants and low-level wandering cultivators in town all clapped and cheered; some even set off firecrackers at the market entrance to celebrate this heart-pleasing event.

However, as the tide of euphoria receded, a deeper emotion—a mixture of awe and speculation—began to quietly spread among the cultivators.

The official explanation was "internal strife due to an uneven split of spoils." This reason was logical and reasonable; after all, everyone knew the nature of those bandit cultivators. But the truly sharp-minded, especially those at the Foundation Establishment stage, caught a peculiar scent in those words.

It was too coincidental.

Why would they fall into infighting neither sooner nor later, but precisely after they had sent someone to tail the mysterious "Mr. Jiang," who had been selling "Peach Blossom Brew" in the market? And it was a total annihilation—not one of the three leaders, including the old Blackwood demon himself, had escaped.

In this world, such coincidences do not exist.

For a time, various speculations about "Mr. Jiang" ran rampant. Some said he was a powerful expert in the late Nascent Soul stage who, while wandering the world, had been offended by the blind Blackwood Stronghold and wiped them out with a wave of his hand. Others claimed he belonged to a powerful sect, and that the stronghold had poked a hornet's nest. More extreme theories suggested he wasn't human at all, but some mountain spirit with an eccentric and volatile temperament.

Regardless of the theory, they all pointed to a single conclusion: this "Mr. Jiang" was someone they could not afford to provoke.

***

In the back courtyard of the Bluestone Town Garrison, inside a quiet chamber:

Old Daoist Chen, dressed in a cyan robe, sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion. The tea before him had long since gone cold. He had sat in stillness for the entire night, his brows furrowed, clearly deeply troubled.

As the Garrison Master at the early Golden Core stage, he understood the abnormality behind the stronghold’s fall better than anyone. He was almost certain it had to do with "Mr. Jiang." To win without a fight, to stir up the winds and clouds and cause an entrenched power to destroy itself—this method was far more terrifying than a direct slaughter of the entire clan.

It revealed not just strength, but unfathomable intellect and strategy.

Why would such a powerful being silently appear within his jurisdiction? Did he have designs on Bluestone Town, or was he merely passing through?

The unknown is the greatest fear.

As the protector of Bluestone Town, Old Daoist Chen felt as though he were sleeping beside a slumbering tiger; even his breathing had to be cautious. He could not allow this uncertain factor to remain. He had to do something—at the very least, he needed to ascertain the man’s stance.

Was he an enemy? A friend? Or merely an indifferent passerby?

After a long while, Old Daoist Chen exhaled a long, heavy breath, a flash of resolution in his eyes.

He could wait no longer. Instead of passive speculation, it was better to proactively show goodwill. Regardless of who this person was, as long as he showed no clear malice, treating him with courtesy was never a mistake.

He stood up, adjusted his robes, and spoke solemnly to the disciple waiting outside: "Prepare a generous gift, and retrieve my visiting card made of golden-thread nanmu. I am going to pay a personal visit to a master."

The disciple felt a shiver in his heart. The golden-thread nanmu card was the highest protocol his master used only when visiting elders of great sects. It seemed his master held this mysterious "Mr. Jiang" in the highest regard.

Half an hour later, Old Daoist Chen left Bluestone Town alone, flying toward the northeast.

He brought no attendants to signify he had no ill intent. He did not fly at full speed, maintaining a leisurely pace as if sightseeing, so as not to disturb any potential detection arrays.

He knew that such a master would surely have powerful formations and restrictions around his dwelling; to force his way in would be suicide. All he could do was demonstrate his utmost sincerity and respect.

Following the final coordinates lost by the market spies, Old Daoist Chen soon arrived at the periphery of the mountain range where the Return-to-Void Cottage was located.

He stopped without taking another step. Hovering in mid-air, he spoke in a clear, resonant voice: "Chen Xuan, Garrison Master of Bluestone Town, comes uninvited to pay respects to Mr. Jiang. I have no other motives; I come only to express gratitude for your removal of a blight upon our town."

His voice, infused with Golden Core spirit power, drifted clearly into the valley, yet it was controlled to be gentle, carrying not a hint of pressure.

The sound echoed through the valley, lingering for a long time.

However, the valley remained silent. There was no response. It was as if this were merely an empty, desolate mountain.

Old Daoist Chen’s heart sank, but he did not give up. He knew this was a test from a master, or perhaps, indifference. He took a deep breath, retrieved the golden-thread nanmu card from his storage pouch, and held it with both hands. He bowed deeply and spoke again: "Junior Chen Xuan requests an audience. This is my visiting card; I humbly ask for your consideration. If it is inconvenient for you to meet, I shall not intrude further. I only wish to establish a line of communication, so that the Bluestone Town authorities may provide you with every convenience to ensure your cultivation remains undisturbed."

With that, he channeled his spirit power to slowly push the card forward.

Just as the card was about to touch the seemingly normal air at the valley entrance, a sudden change occurred!

The space ahead rippled like water, and an invisible barrier manifested. The card passed through the barrier as if weightless and disappeared from the old Daoist's sight.

Old Daoist Chen felt a surge of joy. The other party had accepted the card—there was a chance!

He dared not move, remaining in his bowed posture, waiting quietly for a response.

Time ticked by, second by second.

The mountain wind ruffled his robes, and fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Every breath of this wait felt like torture.

Just as he began to think the other party had accepted the card but would ignore him, a gentle voice, tinged with a hint of detachment, echoed directly in his sea of consciousness.

"Fellow Daoist Chen, you are very thoughtful."

The voice seemed to transcend the distance of space, appearing directly in his mind, causing Old Daoist Chen’s spirit to tremble! Voice transmission? No, this was far more sophisticated; it was direct mental communication! The other party’s spiritual sense was far beyond his own!

He quickly replied in his mind with reverence: "I am unworthy of such praise. You have performed a deed of infinite merit by removing the Blackwood Stronghold. On behalf of all the townspeople, I thank you."

"A trivial matter. A group of ants, noisy and annoying," the voice replied indifferently, as if discussing something insignificant. "I came here only to find a quiet place to live peacefully with my family. I have no interest in entanglements with the outside world."

Family? Old Daoist Chen’s heart skipped a beat. So, this master had kin. That explained it. Someone with attachments was rarely a reckless demon.

"I understand!" Old Daoist Chen immediately stated his position. "That is precisely why I am here today. I swear upon the Heavenly Dao that the Bluestone Town authorities will never leak any information regarding you, and we will do our utmost to prevent anyone from disturbing your cultivation."

"Hmm." The voice seemed slightly more satisfied. "I know why you have come, and I accept your goodwill. I do not accept gifts for no reason; you should take back your generous offering."

As soon as he spoke, Old Daoist Chen felt a slight movement in his storage pouch. The pouch filled with gifts was pulled out by an irresistible, gentle force and floated before him.

Old Daoist Chen was horrified. What kind of power was this? To accurately manipulate a storage pouch from such a distance, penetrating the guardian formation! Late Nascent Soul? No, perhaps... even higher!

He dared not harbor any luck, quickly saying: "Master, I have no ulterior motives! It is just... I have a presumptuous request."

"Speak."

"Since you wish to cultivate in peace, you surely require resources. I dare to propose a partnership. If you have leisure, you could refine some pills, talismans, or formations, and entrust me to sell them through the Garrison. I would take only ten percent as a commission; the remaining ninety percent would be yours. This way, you need not come forward personally and can secure a stable source of spirit stones. What do you think?"

Old Daoist Chen waited nervously. This was his true goal. It wasn't just about increasing the Garrison’s income; it was about establishing a stable, benign link with this master. As long as this line remained unbroken, he could grasp the master's movements and attitude at any time.

The voice in his consciousness fell silent for a moment.

To Old Daoist Chen, this silence felt like a century.

Finally, the voice spoke again: "You are clever. I accept the proposal. However, I want ninety-five percent; you take only five."

Upon hearing this, Old Daoist Chen was not displeased; rather, he was overjoyed!

The fact that the other party bargained meant they truly accepted the partnership! As for the split, let alone five percent—even if he took nothing, establishing this connection was a massive win!

"As you wish! I have no objections!" he promised without hesitation.

"Very well. Come back in three days, and I will give you the first batch. Remember, I do not wish for my items to cause too much of a stir."

"I understand! I will handle it perfectly!" Old Daoist Chen promised excitedly.

"Go."

The voice faded, and the vast spiritual sense that had shrouded his mind receded like a tide.

Old Daoist Chen exhaled a long breath, realizing his back was soaked with cold sweat. He bowed deeply to the valley one last time, put away his storage pouch and the visiting card, and turned to fly toward Bluestone Town with a speed that bordered on fleeing.

***

Deep in the valley, inside the Return-to-Void Cottage:

I stood at the entrance of the cave dwelling, watching the old Daoist’s retreating figure, a faint smile curling at the corner of my mouth.

This Old Daoist Chen was a clever man who knew when to bow to circumstance.

Partnering with him suited my intentions perfectly. I did need a stable channel to convert the resources I didn't need into the hard currency of this world—spirit stones—to prepare for the future cultivation of Yiyi and Xiaobai. Using the Garrison as a front was undoubtedly the safest and most effortless choice.

As for the ninety-five percent split, it was merely a probe. The fact that he agreed so readily showed he wasn't after spirit stones, but the "connection" with me.

That is good. A clever, motivated partner is far more useful than a foolish enemy.

"Daddy, did that old grandpa leave?" Jiang Yiyi poked her head out from behind me, asking curiously.

"He left," I said, smiling as I patted her head. "From today on, we can live our lives in peace again."

Yes, a peaceful life.

For the sake of this peace, I don't mind occasionally baring my fangs.