Chapter 468 - Awaiting Heavenly Thunder, Assisting the Lotus Cult, Devouring the Flower Shop, The Mirror of Sin - Part 2

With a single thought, Li Yuan vanished and reappeared in Gemhill County.

Gemhill County was a lot safer these days.

Li Yuan made his way through the familiar streets with ease, eventually arriving at an old haunt.

He looked up. The signboard read

Ginger Tavern

, the same name as before.

But the place had clearly been renovated. It was larger now, more refined. The owner, however, had changed, though who ran it now, he had no idea.

Unlike the hazy gloom of the Jade Capital, moonlight here spilled freely across the land, and the breeze was calm, almost gentle.

The tavern was bustling, packed with people coming and going.

Li Yuan strolled in.

A waiter came hurrying over. “How many in your party, sir?”

Li Yuan replied, “Just me.”

The waiter glanced around the crowded floor, then gave a sheepish smile and gestured toward a nearby table already occupied by three others. “Would you mind sharing a table, sir? That one’s got room.”

Li Yuan looked over. Two young nobles—dressed like the pampered children of rich families, a man and a woman—and a burly, no-nonsense fellow sat there. Their cultivation levels? Eighth rank, eighth rank, and seventh.

Li Yuan couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic. Back when he used to frequent this place, even a single eighth rank cultivator was a rare sight. Now? They were as common as cabbage in a market stall.

He nodded. “Sure.”

Then he asked, “How much for a pot of Springdream Brew these days?”

The waiter grinned. “Ah, an old customer! But I’m afraid Springdream Brew’s sold out. All we have tonight is Springsky Brew, one tael of silver a jar, and Springwater Brew, six large coppers a pot. Same prices as before.”

A flicker of memory flashed in Li Yuan’s eyes. Those were prices he and Xue Ning had personally set.

“Three pots of Springsky Brew,” he said, tossing the waiter a gold nugget.

The waiter weighed it in his hand. “I’ll go have it checked.”

“Make sure it’s weighed right,” Li Yuan said casually. “Don’t short me.”

The waiter chuckled. “Don’t worry, sir. Ginger Tavern’s built its name on honesty. No cheating here, whether old or young.”

Li Yuan smiled, then made his way to the square table and offered a polite fist salute to the three seated there.

They returned the gesture.

Then the noble-looking young woman, clearly the type raised in silk and spice, broke the silence. “And where might you be from, sir?”

Li Yuan answered easily, without arrogance, “Just a wandering martial artist.”

The burly man beside her cut straight to the point, his voice low and gruff. “What rank?”

“Seventh,” Li Yuan said without thinking.

“Seventh, huh?”

The man flipped his palm, and a wooden chopstick began spinning rapidly in his hand, whistling like a blade. Then, without warning, he flicked it toward Li Yuan.

Li Yuan calmly picked up a chopstick of his own and met it mid-air.

The two sticks clashed with a quiet

crack

and locked together. A wave of blood energy force surged through the point of contact, each side pressing in bursts, testing, colliding, probing.

The burly man stared at him with sharp, unblinking eyes.

Li Yuan held his ground, not overpowering, not underwhelming, simply matching him evenly. He knew exactly what this was, a test. They were gauging his strength. And depending on what they found, they’d probably try to pull him into something. But if he came off too strong, showed power above what he claimed, they might clam up and say nothing at all.

So he walked a careful line, just enough to maintain the illusion of being evenly matched.

The deadlock held until the waiter’s voice rang out from nearby: “Your wine is here, sir!”

Snap!

The chopsticks split apart.

Li Yuan cupped his hands. “You’re strong, brother.”

The burly man returned the gesture, unable to hide a trace of respect. “Your strength is...unfathomable. You sure you’re not actually sixth rank, here to toy with us?”

“...” Li Yuan remained silent.

The moment the burly man spoke, the two well-dressed nobles instantly straightened up, their expressions turning serious.

Li Yuan sighed. “Alright, you got me. I

am

sixth rank.”

As soon as he admitted it, the trio’s mood flipped. They lit up like lanterns at dusk, eyes full of excitement, practically glowing as they looked at him.

The burly man immediately stood and bowed, his tone apologetic. “I was rude, please forgive me.”

Li Yuan waved it off. “It’s fine.”

The young noblewoman, voice trembling slightly, asked, “May I ask...are you one of the sixth rank disciples from the Bladeseekers?”

Li Yuan answered mildly, “And if I am? And if I’m not?”

But the young woman clearly had her answer already. She stood up in a flurry, eyes misty with hope and respect. “My husband and I are from the Wang Family of Pagoda County. We came all this way hoping to join the Bladeseekers. If you are truly a senior from the palace...that would be our greatest honor.”

As she spoke, the nobleman beside her quickly stood as well, rubbing his hands together and smiling obsequiously. Even the burly man adopted the same deferential posture.

Li Yuan hadn’t expected the Bladeseekers to wield

this

much influence already.

But then again, it made sense.

In a world where sixth rank cultivation techniques were still scarce, the Bladeseekers not only offered techniques, they also provided resources. For most people, it wasn’t just the best path forward, it was the

only

one.

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

But the three didn’t believe him.

Just then, the tavern’s shopkeeper quietly approached and whispered near Li Yuan’s ear, “Sir, if you

are

from the Bladeseekers, there’s a private room upstairs where many of your fellow disciples are gathering.”

He hesitated, then added with a wink, “They also have

Springdream Brew

up there.”

Li Yuan gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m not.”

“Truly not?”

“Truly.”

The shopkeeper bowed and quietly withdrew.

Li Yuan simply raised the pot and drank. But just as he was enjoying the wine, he noticed something odd. The three who’d been sitting with him finished their drinks hastily and left the tavern. Not just them, many of the nearby guests were also slipping out, one after another.

He tilted his head and listened.

In the distance, footsteps. Fast, clustered, approaching.

He tilted his head again. A waiter was hurrying upstairs.

And then with a

click

, he heard the upstairs sliding door shift open.

Li Yuan suddenly understood.

He downed the rest of his Springsky Brew, grabbed the other two jars, and strolled out of the Ginger Tavern.

He’d barely stepped through the door when a loud voice boomed from the second floor.

“Sir, please wait!”

Li Yuan didn’t wait. The moment he passed the threshold, his figure blurred and reappeared atop a distant rooftop—body fading into the night like mist. Not a soul could trace him.

Just after he vanished, the man who had shouted landed at the tavern’s front door in a flash, looking around.

But the street was empty. No sign of the wine-drinking stranger.

High above, crouched on a tiled roof, Li Yuan peered back at the tavern, curious.

Moments later, two figures entered the Ginger Tavern, each wearing a boar-faced mask and carrying long, thin blades.

“Where is he?!” one of the masked men barked.

The waiter hadn’t even spoken yet when a voice called down from upstairs, a young man leaping to the ground beside them.

“That man was a stranger. Definitely sixth rank. As soon as he left the tavern, he vanished.”

The second boar-masked man narrowed his eyes and said coldly, “He’s probably one of the Lotus Cult’s remaining scum.”

“He has to be,” one of the boar-headed men said. “A stranger at sixth rank appearing

here

? No matter who he is, we must get to the bottom of it.”

“This is the domain of the Ghost Street Judge. Any outsider power must kneel, or be crushed,” the first boar-headed man continued coldly. “And if he’s with the Lotus Cult...execute him on the spot.”

“Find him. He can’t have gotten far.”

With that, the boar-masked man sprinted out of the tavern and shot a signal flare into the sky.

The firework burst open with a sharp crack, and the night instantly stirred.

From the shadows came the sound of dozens of footsteps.

Under the pale moonlight, figures began to emerge—grim and silent, every one of them wearing that same eerie boar-faced mask, each gripping a long, gleaming blade. Their footsteps were swift and deliberate, their presence cold and dangerous.

Their shadows stretched and merged in the lantern-lit streets like flowing ink, weaving through alleys and rooftops.

Every one of these masked enforcers was at least sixth rank, some even at fifth rank.

Li Yuan looked on in silence.

Soon, over a hundred boar-masked martial artists had assembled in the open square in front of the Ginger Tavern. After a quick, murmured strategy session, they split into pairs and began sweeping Silver Creek, searching.

Ah...so this is a purge of the Lotus Cult.

Li Yuan nodded to himself.

Makes sense.

Still, he hadn’t expected Gemhill County to become like

this

.

At this point, it was comparable to the Jade Capital.

This sleepy southern backwater had undergone a complete transformation.

The Lotus Cult's uprising had reshaped the region. Then came the rise of the Bladeseekers, the establishment of Yan Yu’s temple, the rapid expansion of the Court of Judges...and now, Silver Creek was no longer a quiet little township. It was becoming a titan.

No wonder he’d been caught off guard.

Li Yuan shook his head at himself. Yes, his strength had grown. But somewhere along the way, he’d grown lax.

No...it wasn’t even that. His vigilance hadn’t

weakened

; he’d just underestimated the stakes. The enemy felt too small. Too close to home. And that’s exactly how you ended up poking a hornet’s nest.

Old and rusty

, he thought to himself.

Up on the rooftop, the sixth rank boar-headed martial artists swept past beneath him, blades in hand. Above, a few fifth ranks skimmed the rooftops in silence.

But Li Yuan was like a shadow stitched into the dark. Utterly invisible.

He drank in silence, taking in the familiar nightscape of his homeland.

When the second jar of Springsky Brew was empty, he raised a hand, gently closed his fingers. The two empty wine jars flew into his palm and vanished.

After all, his true form now was a mountain, over a thousand feet tall. For him, absorbing two clay jars was effortless.

Forget jars. He could swallow a few buildings if he wanted to, and it wouldn’t even make a dent.

This was part of the power granted by the Heaven Soul Realm, after merging with a literal mountain.

Of course, anything he absorbed, be it a wine jar or a house, would be compressed and obliterated into pure density. It wasn’t storage; it was annihilation. The objects had no chance of retaining their original form or function.

With his wine finished and the commotion fading, Li Yuan was about to slip away.

But then, he heard shouting in the distance.

He turned slightly, gaze sweeping toward the sound.

In the far-off glow of torchlight, one courtyard suddenly lit up like midday.

Four boar-masked martial artists had surrounded a buzz-cut, muscular man, closing in fast.

The man stood his ground, fists clenched, eyes sharp as blades sweeping left and right. He shouted with a thunderous voice, “Come on! Haven’t you dogs been chasing me for years? Grandpa Han Tianli is right here! Come and get me!”

With that, the man—Han Tianli, as he called himself—tensed his massive frame, and lunged at the four boar-headed martial artists.

He fought with brute force, charging head-on. Every punch he threw exploded with a shockwave, sending smoke and air rippling through the night.

Li Yuan immediately recognized the style. This was Red Lotus Cult’s martial arts.

But the boar-headed martial artists were wielding something entirely different, styles Li Yuan himself had created—the Phantom Blade, Ruling Blade, and Final Blade.

The Phantom Blade was agile and deceptive, full of twists and misdirection. The Ruling Blade was heavy, oppressive, slow but devastating. And the Final Blade...left no way out.

They were all sixth rank martial artists, and their individual strength wasn’t far off from Han Tianli’s.

But with four of them working together, Han Tianli didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take long.

One of the boar-headed men darted in with a flick of his blade, slicing Han Tianli clean across the chest, a spray of blood blooming in the air.

Then another struck from behind, thrusting a blade straight through him. With a heavy

bang

, Han Tianli was slammed to the ground and pinned like an insect.

Li Yuan looked away and shifted his attention elsewhere.

With his current level of perception, it didn’t take any effort to notice the movement underground. More than ten people were fleeing through a hidden tunnel beneath Silver Creek.

One glance was enough to understand. Han Tianli had died buying time for these people to escape.

Normally, Li Yuan wasn’t the kind of person to stick around and watch a spectacle. If the situation involved people stronger than him, or even at his level...he wouldn’t hesitate to turn away, mind his own business, and leave. Maybe loop back later to scavenge something useful, if the coast was clear.

But if there was

no possible threat

to him? He wasn’t about to act like some frightened

Golden Core

cultivator who refused to interfere just to avoid causing trouble.

[1]

1. Readers, explain this one to me. Is this a Record of a Mortal’s Journey to Immortality reference? ☜