Chapter Seven
Ah Heng had always known he was different from Old Wen and the others. He couldn’t describe what it was, but whenever he was with them, he felt like a person not of the same clan.
Qin Shiwei’s eyebrows arched slightly. Though he had only recently joined the Extreme Bliss Immortal Sect and been taken as a disciple by his master, he had already attained the third layer of Qi Cultivation. While this level of cultivation was hardly remarkable within the immortal sects; in the nearby towns, he faced mortals who couldn’t lift a finger to harm a chicken. Not to mention overwhelming a group of mortals, but at the very least, few could even match him in combat.
Compared to cultivators, mortals’ bloodlines were filled with impurities and debris, their flesh and blood murky, their meridians obstructed. Cultivators could commune with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The higher their cultivation, the more spiritual energy filled their flesh and blood. For those above the Nascent Soul stage, their flesh and blood were like refined spirit stones. Any cultivator with even a shred of spiritual awareness could instantly discern whether they faced a mortal or a cultivator. Yet now, Qin Shiwei and Huang Dingfeng were stumped.
For within their spiritual senses, the thing before them scarcely qualified as human. Mortals possessed heartbeats and pulses—this thing had neither. It appeared lifeless, like a corpse, yet it could run and move.
“Fascinating. What exactly are you?” Qin Shiwei sheathed his jade flute, scrutinizing Ah Heng from head to toe. Were space not so limited, he’d have circled the creature several times for a closer look. Huang Dingfeng flicked his whisk. “It resembles a zombie, yet zombies cannot endure daylight. Nor does this creature carry the malevolent aura typical of the undead…”
Qin Shiwei remarked, “Indeed, he doesn’t resemble those lowly zombies. He speaks coherently and logically—likely some higher-level entity. Very well, we’ll bring him back to the sect shortly. Let the Sect Founder examine him.”
Mr. Mu reached out and tugged at Ah Heng’s filthy clothes: “Hero Ah Heng, save me! Save me!”
Ah Heng gave Boss Mu a slight nod, signaling him to calm down.
Qin Shiwei and Huang Dingfeng discussed taking Ah Heng away as if no one else was present. Yu Tong, who had brought them here, was suddenly ignored. But he wasn’t lonely. Sipping his tea while watching Boss Mu Chuan Feng scared out of his wits was pure entertainment.
Ah Heng interrupted the two cultivators’ conversation in a measured tone: “Gentlemen, I have a question to ask.”
Huang Dingfeng sneered, “Ask!” Ah Heng inquired with grave seriousness: “Are all so-called cultivators as self-righteous and shameless as you two?”
At these words, Boss Mu broke out in a cold sweat, his face turning ashen. Ah Heng was courting death!
Huang Dingfeng sneered coldly: “Seeking death!”
To speak such insolence to cultivators! He had considered bringing the man back to their sect, but now Huang Dingfeng only wanted to reduce this fellow to ashes (of death). His拂尘 (horsetail whisk) transformed into a hundred streaks of light, assaulting Ah Heng. With a flick of his beggar’s staff, Ah Heng effortlessly dispersed Huang Dingfeng’s spiritual energy.
Huang Dingfeng was stunned. He had just unleashed three layers of spiritual energy—enough to obliterate a mortal’s soul. But where had his spiritual energy gone?
Ah Heng spun around, his beggar’s staff catching the hem of Mr. Mu’s robe. Before Mr. Mu could react, Ah Heng gave him a light push. Mr. Mu slid down the stairs all the way to the first floor.
The waiters rushed over to catch him, but Mr. Mu waved them off. He was fine. He felt a protective force had shielded him—it must have been Ah Heng helping him.
Ah Heng possessed no such spiritual energy. Even the essence absorbed from a low-grade spirit stone was insufficient to circulate fully within his body. Yet Master Mu’s intuition was correct—Ah Heng was indeed aiding him. Moments earlier, Ah Heng had found Qin Shiwei and Huang Dingfeng quite appetizing. Not in the sense of coveting their flesh, but because he sensed he could absorb their spiritual energy.
Huang Dingfeng’s spiritual energy settled upon the beggar’s staff. Ah Heng felt a slender thread of it flow through the staff into his own hands. He then miraculously used this energy to envelop Boss Mu.
He possessed an innate familiarity with spiritual energy. Though he couldn’t recall how to cultivate it, he instinctively understood how to wield and control it.
Strangely enough, when facing Lao Wen and his men, Ah Heng always felt a helpless sense of defeat. Yet when confronting Qin Shiwei and his group, he sensed an equal footing. This led to his current burst of confidence, his words tinged with arrogance.
“Why get angry? I’m merely stating the truth. Cultivators are indeed more powerful than ordinary people, but does that mean they can disregard the Way of Heaven and act recklessly? The Apricot Blossom Pavilion is Mr. Mu’s property. Yet Mr. Yu brought two experts here, intending to seize it for himself. If I’m more powerful than you two, can Boss Mu take me to Boss Yu’s shop and seize it for us?”
Ah Heng, gaunt yet tall, smiled as if he didn’t care about Qin Shiwēi and Huang Dingfeng at all.
To Qin Shiwei and Huang Dingfeng, Ah Heng had stripped their faces off and trampled them underfoot. Worse still, he wore an expression that seemed to say, “See? I told you so,” making him look downright deserving of a beating.
“Bold words! I intended to spare your life, but today I will not let you or the Apricot Blossom Pavilion off!” Huang Dingfeng’s face flushed alternately crimson and ashen. Since joining the Extreme Bliss Immortal Sect, every mortal had bowed before him, reverently addressing him as “Immortal Elder.” Yet today, this beggar had humiliated him. Huang Dingfeng resolved to snap Ah Heng’s neck, drag him back to the sect, extract his soul, and turn him into a puppet!
Ah Heng had no idea Huang Dingfeng had already planned his funeral. Had he known standing up for Xinghua Pavilion would only provoke these two cultivators to escalate their cruelty, he swore… he would have kept quiet as a mouse.
Panicked, Master Mu waved his servant toward the exit of Apricot Blossom Pavilion: “Get out! Quick, get out now!” Not just Master Mu—even Yu Tong scrambled out, rolling and crawling his way out. They’d seen cultivators fight before. When Qi Cultivation Stage cultivators clashed, half the town would be flattened. When Foundation Establishment Stage cultivators fought, an entire town would become ruins.
Qin Shiwei and Huang Dingfeng were both Qi Cultivation Stage experts—Xinghua Pavilion was doomed. And with these two in a rage, they’d have no time to protect Yu Tong, who’d been watching the spectacle.
Panting, Yu Tong reached the pavilion’s entrance and shouted at Mu Chuanfeng, “Where did you find these idiots? They dare confront Qi Cultivation cultivators!”
Mu Chuanfeng, seething with his own rage, bellowed back, “You of the Yu clan! If this Apricot Blossom Pavilion collapses today, I’ll march straight to the Wuji Immortal Sect tomorrow and demand justice from my Mu Ancestor! You’re bullying us with your power!”
The crowd pointed and whispered at Yu Tong, whose fair face flushed crimson. “You of the Mu clan! Don’t think you’re any more innocent!”
Er Gouzi tugged at the waiter, urgently asking, “Waiter, where’s our Ah Heng?”
The waiter angrily flung his sleeves aside. “Don’t even mention it. Ah Heng had the nerve to talk back to the Immortal. The Immortal is furious right now. You’d better go back and prepare your straw mats! No… With the Immortal’s power, he might not even leave a whole body behind.”
“Holy shit!” Er Gouzi panicked at the news. Ignoring the tattooed thug’s attempts to block him, he ducked low and slid past in a flash, darting into Xinghua Building in a few strides. Old Wen tried to follow, but the tattooed man wouldn’t let him in.
Er Gouzi scrambled inside, grabbed a bench, and shouted wildly, “Ah Heng! I’m here to help you!”
He frantically scanned the surroundings until he spotted Ah Heng on the second floor. “Yaaay! I’m arrived!!”
Er Gouzi charged upstairs, wielding the bench, tripping over a fallen plate midway but scrambling back up swiftly.
Huang Dingfeng’s face was as pale as paper. Qin Shiwei’s jade flute rested against his pitch-black beggar’s staff.
Er Gouzi clambered up the stairs with a clatter, shouting incoherently, “Don’t think Ah Heng is easy to bully! Ah Heng, I’ll help you beat him!”
Ah Heng replied slowly, “It’s already settled. No need for your help.”
Er Gouzi froze, stammering, “Huh? What did you say? You two reconciled? Ah Heng, what’s going on?!”
The room was spotless, not even a scratch on the stair railing. This hardly looked like a fight had happened.
Qin Shiwei’s face was pale. He tucked away his jade flute and flicked his sleeves. “Hmph. I’ll come again.”
Ah Heng remained unhurried. “Take your time leaving. No need to see you off.”
The two cultivators turned and took two steps. Their figures rippled like water waves and vanished.
Er Gouzi rubbed his eyes. “What… what just happened?”
Ah Heng smiled. “Nothing happened. They just went back.”
Er Gouzi was still confused. “But when they came over, they clearly…”
Clearly looked like murderous demons, yet now they vanished without a trace?
Ah Heng said, “Let’s go too.” Er Gouzi set down the bench. “Oh… Ah Heng, you seem a bit paler now, don’t you?”
Whether it was Er Gouzi’s illusion or not, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ah Heng’s complexion, once sallow, was now noticeably fairer.
Ah Heng dismissed it casually. “Probably just your eyes playing tricks on you since you’re still recovering from your illness.”
Yu Tong had been trading barbs with Boss Mu when suddenly his expression darkened. He glared at Boss Mu, snorted coldly, and stormed off.
Boss Mu was utterly confused. What the hell just happened?
Ah Heng and Er Gouzi had already exited the Apricot Blossom Pavilion. Ah Heng remained as calm as ever, while Er Gouzi looked utterly bewildered.
Mr. Mu hurried to intercept them. “Hero Ah Heng, what now…?”
Ah Heng replied, “The two immortals have returned ahead of us. Today’s matter seems settled for now. Though they may well return.”
Mr. Mu groaned with deep-seated resentment. “What are we to do now… But Hero Ah Heng, why did they suddenly leave like that?”
Ah Heng replied slowly, “I have no idea…”
Yu Tong shared similar grievances. He dared not offend Qin Shiwei, but Huang Dingfeng, having received offerings from the Yu family, should serve them. Yu Tong fumed, “What’s gotten into you? How could you just up and leave like that? The Apricot Blossom Pavilion was within our grasp, yet you…”
Huang Dingfeng’s complexion remained poor. Ignoring Yu Tong, he swallowed two pills and crossed his legs to meditate. The battle had drained him of much spiritual energy.
A cultivator’s battle differed from a mortal’s brawl. Mortals fought with flashy, empty techniques, tearing through houses and destroying everything in their path. Cultivators’ fights could have the same devastating effect, but they competed with spiritual energy. This energy was formless and intangible, as mentioned earlier—capable of deciding victory from miles away and killing without leaving a trace.
A cultivator’s battle could be brief or protracted. If there was a vast disparity in strength, the fight would end in an instant. One side would crush the other, not only shattering their techniques but pulverizing their very soul essence. If the combatants were evenly matched, the struggle would drag on indefinitely. After all, cultivators possessed numerous magical treasures and lived long lives. After practicing fasting, they could survive for years without food and still not die.
In Qin Shiwei’s original conception, that malnourished and sickly in appearance, emaciated beggar would be crushed into dust by them, dead in an instant. But… in that very instant, both he and the powerful spiritual energy Huang Dingfeng had unleashed vanished…
Without sound, without a trace.
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")
