Chapter 210: The Competitive Ferryman

"You haven’t heard yet, Daoist Master Yanchu? A ferryman has deciphered the hidden mystery of this place and has taken over the job of that mysterious man who used to capture spirits. He can help everyone board the boat and cross the river!" Chen Yang said slowly.

"That's right! That guy’s really something. Word is, he’s a ferryman from the banks of the Xia River, and has quite the background," Zhu Fugui added with a smile.

Li Yanchu was a bit stunned. As expected of one of Daoism’s Seventy-Two Blissful Lands, a paradise of Earth Immortals, it even attracted someone like that.

His expression turned a bit strange.

"He actually replaced that mysterious man?" Li Yanchu found it hard to believe. He took over that man’s job? Was the ferryman profession

really

this competitive?

Zhu Fugui scratched his head and chuckled. "It’s definitely surprising, but the Xia River has always been surrounded by mysterious legends. Having a ferryman like this show up isn’t all that unbelievable."

The Xia River was the largest river in the Kingdom of Qian, holding a status comparable to the Yellow River in Li Yanchu’s previous life. It had an ancient name, but during the Great Xia Dynasty, it was renamed and that name had been passed down to this day.

Long shrouded in mystery, the river had inspired countless tales of the supernatural and celestial beings.

Many believe that beneath the Xia River lay a direct path to the underworld’s Yellow Springs, marking the boundary between the realms of the living and the dead.

While the three were talking, the small boat that Li Yanchu had seen before slowly approached. The waves surged violently, yet the lone boat remained as steady as a rock, completely unmoved by the turbulence.

Originally, there had been a stern-looking man on the boat holding a Daoist Soul-Summoning Bell, an instrument used to summon spirits to board.

But now, a brutish, burly man with a hideous appearance had taken his place. His eyes glinted coldly, and a short saber hung at his waist. His physique seemed forged from iron and bronze, and just the sight of him from afar exuded an overwhelming sense of oppression!

“Why does he look more like a bloodthirsty pirate than a ferryman?” Li Yanchu said slowly.

He had previously encountered a ferryman in the tomb of the Southern Guardian Marquis, but that one hadn’t carried such an oppressive presence.

Zhu Fugui murmured, “You’re right... I don’t think this guy’s a good person either.”

It wasn’t just them; anyone who saw this ferryman from the Xia River would likely have the same thought. Riding his boat felt like asking to be robbed and killed at any moment.

However... Most cultivators were familiar with the rules ferrymen followed. For instance, passengers must pay to board.

This payment wasn’t silver or gold, nor was it ghost money like the old legends said; it referred to something of genuine value. In this ferryman’s case, he demanded Daoist artifacts from the Daoist temple hall as fare. One person, one artifact—that was the price.

Also, whether they were monks, Daoists, or outlaws from the

jianghu

, no one dared break the rules or double-cross a ferryman.

Of course... That only applied during the ferrying process. Ferrymen typically worked in extremely perilous and supernatural waters, and their trade came with a specialized method of communicating with ghosts and spirits.

As long as you followed their rules, you could pass through safely. For example, in many large tombs, one often encountered corpse pits, rivers of the dead, or underground yin rivers, all of which would require a ferryman’s assistance. This had essentially become an unspoken rule.

No questions would be asked, and no background would be checked. You pay, and they deliver. That was the ferryman for you. It was a profession that remained mostly neutral.

As the small boat drew closer to the shore, several nearby cultivators quickly stepped forward, ready to hand over their Daoist artifacts as fare to cross the river.

Just then, a dragon’s roar echoed in the air. The thunderous roar shook the soul, and it was so powerful it caused one's spirit to lose control in an instant.

A figure flew in from the distance. It was a young man with a piercing gaze and an extraordinary, transcendent aura. The moment he appeared, everyone present seemed to lose their luster in comparison.

Those who had intended to board the boat were overwhelmed by his powerful presence and instinctively stepped back a few paces.

It was none other than the young Daoist master of Mount Mao, Hong Baiwei! At this moment, Hong Baiwei radiated overwhelming energy, his body faintly shrouded in divine light. That dragon's roar from earlier had emanated from his chest. Clearly, it was a powerful divine artifact.

He approached the boat and casually tossed a Daoist temple artifact to the ferryman. The ferryman gave a slight nod and stepped aside.

Hong Baiwei strode to the bow of the boat. With his haughty air and nose held high, he followed the ferryman’s rules, but made it clear he held no one else in his eyes.

He was arrogant and domineering. It was as if, in his eyes, everyone else was mere rabble, and only a few figures, like Master Jiekong of the Great Xiangguo Temple, could compare to him. Even when he spotted Gongshu Peiyu, who had barely escaped a deadly pursuit, his expression didn’t change.

Suddenly, Hong Baiwei’s gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Li Yanchu. His eyes instantly turned cold. This was the man who slaughtered the entire Mount Mao Sect and left him utterly alone!

"Once I reach Mount Jinting and obtain the immortal fortune, I will grind this man’s bones to dust and scatter his soul and spirit to the winds!"

Hong Baiwei swore to himself.

But Li Yanchu was cloaked in the Sun Veil, concealing his destiny. It made him easy to overlook. To others, he appeared to be nothing more than a handsome but otherwise ordinary young Daoist. Even Hong Baiwei failed to truly notice him. Why hadn’t he noticed this person in the crowd earlier?

Li Yanchu looked at Hong Baiwei’s dark, brooding expression and gave a faint smile. Then, he raised a middle finger at him.

Hong Baiwei didn’t understand the gesture, but he could clearly grasp the provocative intent behind it, so his face grew even colder.

What surprised Li Yanchu, however, was that this arrogant young Daoist Master of Mount Mao, who treated human life like weeds underfoot... actually turned around without saying a word and ignored him entirely.

Is it because he’s already on the ferryman’s boat and can’t act recklessly? Or is it because there’s some immortal fortune within Mount Jinting that he knows about, and he doesn’t want to stir up trouble?

Li Yanchu wondered.

The ferryman from the Xia River was much faster than the stern man with the Soul-Summoning Bell from before.

He returned in about the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn.

So this is the difference between working for the government... and working for yourself?

Li Yanchu chuckled.

Though Hong Baiwei was far from a good person, and he was arrogant and cold-hearted, he wasn’t someone who could be quietly killed without making waves. The ferryman, on the other hand, seemed entirely aboveboard, which surprised Li Yanchu somewhat.

Given Hong Baiwei’s personality, I’d have thought he’d kill the ferryman just to block everyone else from crossing. Does killing a ferryman lead to serious consequences?

Li Yanchu mused, stroking his chin.

Each trip could only carry two passengers at most. Aside from the unruly Hong Baiwei, everyone else followed the order and boarded in turn.

Each paid with a Daoist artifact as fare, and there were no disputes. Even someone like Zhu Fugui, with his large frame, stood steadily on the small boat. The boat was solid as a mountain, without even the slightest wobble.

Just as Li Yanchu was preparing to board, a woman in a Daoist robe flew over; it was the female Daoist with poor fortune he had seen earlier, Ding Rou!

At this point, Chen Yang and Zhu Fugui had already left by boat, leaving Li Yanchu alone at the riverside.

Ding Rou’s body was bleeding from multiple wounds, and her face was deathly pale. “Daoist Master Li, help me!” Ding Rou’s expression was full of panic, as if she had encountered something truly terrifying.