The first rays of sunlight painted the forest in hues of gold and green, but Jin Wu hardly noticed. His focus was split—half on the events from the night before and half on the feeling prickling at the edge of his senses. A pressure, vast and primal, was closing in from behind.

The scenes from last night lingered in his mind—Xu Bei’s lifeless body slumped beneath the gnarled tree, a threat at the end, “Red Veil will avenge.”

It didn’t sit right with him—an immortal, mercenaries, and now assassins—this seemed deeper than just a sect war.

Granny Xiu whined softly, her ears flicking backward as the wagon creaked beneath them.

“I know,” Jin Wu muttered, his voice low and calm. “I feel it too.”

The Shen around him stirred, rippling faintly like the surface of a still pond disturbed by a single drop. It whispered to him, urging caution. Something old, powerful, and brimming with Qi so dense it felt like a storm cloud rolling in, at least at the Spirit Severing stage. Jin Wu’s shoulders tensed slightly, his grip tightening on the reins. This wasn’t a foe he could dismiss or toy with—it was a predator in its own right.

He adjusted his straw hat and clicked his tongue, pushing the Flood Dragon Wave faster. But as the sound of crashing trees broke through the morning calm, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

A low, rumbling growl sent birds scattering from the treetops. Jin Wu glanced over his shoulder and cursed under his breath.

The Pixiu emerged from the trees, its golden fur catching the sunlight like molten metal. Its jade-green eyes locked onto him through the umbral flux with unsettling focus, unblinking and predatory.

Jin Wu canceled the wave, and the wagon settled on the road—Granny Xiu brayed in alarm.

The creature moved with a feline grace, its leonine paws barely making a sound as they pressed into the dirt. Its long tail swayed lazily behind it, the jade tip gleaming like a blade.

For a moment, it simply watched him, its eyes narrowing slightly as its nostrils flared.

“Hmm,” the Pixiu rumbled, its voice deep and resonant, tinged with amusement. “You smell… strange.”

Its vast aura pressed down on Jin Wu, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he flicked the reins, and the wagon began to move slowly. The Pixiu’s lips curled back into a toothy grin, revealing rows of sharp, gleaming teeth.

“A cultivator,” it said, its tone playful, “but not a cultivator. What are you, old man? You reek of contradictions.”

Jin Wu let out a slow breath, his fingers twitching toward the reins. “Just a humble peddler,” he said aloud, though his voice carried no conviction. “No need to trouble yourself with me.”

The Pixiu let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound vibrating through the air. It began to follow, its steps unhurried, as if savoring the moment.

“You carry a scent,” it said, its jade eyes gleaming. “It’s muddled. Something older, deeper… almost divine.” Its grin widened. “Like when the worlds were made. Delicious.”

"Shen is the energy of creation," Old Yu's words came to mind.

Jin Wu flicked his fingers subtly, tracing a quick sigil beneath the edge of the wagon seat. The Shen stirred again, forming an invisible barrier around the wagon.

The Pixiu tilted its head, amused. “Now that’s interesting.” Its tail flicked, scattering leaves. “How did a fragile mortal make this?”

Jin Wu didn’t answer. Instead, he clicked his tongue again, and the wagon surged forward as a Flood Dragon Wave erupted beneath it. Granny Xiu snorted as the ground blurred beneath her hooves, but the Pixiu’s laughter followed them, mocking and unbothered.

“Running, old man?” the Pixiu called out, its voice carrying easily over the rush of wind. “You can’t outrun me.”

Jin Wu grimaced. The Pixiu wasn’t wrong. He could feel its Qi closing in, a dense, oppressive force that made the air heavy. Even the Flood Dragon Wave couldn’t outpace it.

The creature’s laughter rumbled behind him, low and menacing. “You’re the tastiest thing I’ve had since this world was sealed,” it said, licking its lips.

Jin Wu’s expression flickered, just for a moment, before settling into a grim mask.

Sealed? he thought, the word echoing in his mind like a distant bell. But there was no time to dwell on it, not with the creature closing in.

He adjusted his grip on the reins, his free hand flicking a quick sigil into the air. Shen rippled outward, forming an invisible barrier just as the Pixiu leapt.

A sudden burst of energy flared behind him. The translucent barrier shimmered as it stopped the Pixiu mid-pounce.

The creature snarled as it was thrown back, landing gracefully on all fours. It shook its mane, golden fur bristling with Qi, and glared at Jin Wu with newfound interest.

“Clever,” it said, its tone sharp now, the playfulness fading. “You are an odd one. I’ll enjoy breaking you.”

It lashed out, a wave of Qi-infused wind slicing through the air. Jin Wu ducked low, his straw hat flying off as the attack shattered the shield and broke one of the wagon’s wheels. The wagon lurched violently, nearly throwing him from his seat. Granny Xiu brayed in panic, her hooves skidding against the ground as the Flood Dragon Wave faltered.

Jin Wu cursed under his breath, his mind racing. The Pixiu’s attack came deliberately, measured, and precise, without the intent to kill. Jin Wu could feel it testing him—not in haste, but with the patient cruelty of a predator savoring its prey.

“What now, old man?” it growled, crouching low.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Jin Wu didn’t respond. Instead, reluctantly, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a simple ametrine talisman, its surface etched with intricate sigils.

He sighed, "Don't have very many of these."

He pushed a surge of Shen into it and tossed it into the air.

The talisman exploded in a burst of light, blinding the Pixiu momentarily. A hole opened in the fabric of creation, and Jin Wu and the wagon fell through it.

The Pixiu’s roar echoed as Jin Wu and Granny Xiu disappeared into the void.

“You can’t hide forever, old man,” the creature growled, its voice fading. “I’ll find you.”

Jin Wu smirked as the portal closed. “Let me know how that works out.”

I need to pay attention to my cultivation, he thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Without Old Yu’s constant nagging, he hadn’t put real effort into his growth—his daily meditation needed to be purposeful. Sure, the River Path granted him many tricks, but against true power, they fell short.

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The silhouette stepped closer, emerging from the shadows cast by the moonlit trees. Shadow’s grip on his knife tightened, his pulse hammering in his ears. But as the figure came into focus, his tension gave way to confusion—and then irritation.

It was a girl.

She looked younger than him, maybe twelve or thirteen, with a wild mop of short, uneven hair that framed a dirt-smudged face. She wore patched-up clothing that looked like it had been sewn and re-sewn a dozen times. A bow was slung over her shoulder, and a quiver of arrows hung at her side. Her sharp green eyes glinted with amusement as she studied him.

“You look like a cornered rabbit,” she said, her tone dry and laced with mockery. “Not much of a woodsman, are you?”

Shadow scowled, straightening slightly but keeping his knife ready. “Who are you?”

The girl ignored the question and came closer. She held up one of the berries he had eaten between her fingers, tilting her head as if examining a rare gem. “These?” she said, smirking. “If you’d eaten more than a handful, you’d be writhing on the ground by now. They’re not poisonous, but they’ll do a number on your stomach.”

Shadow opened his mouth to retort, but his stomach growled loudly, cutting him off. The girl’s smirk widened.

“Figures,” she said, standing up and tossing the berry aside. “You don’t look like you belong out here. No wonder you’re eating the first thing you see.”

“I wasn’t going to eat that many,” Shadow muttered defensively, though the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “And you still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?”

The girl shrugged, brushing a stray leaf off her sleeve. “Lin Fen,” she said casually as if that explained everything. “And you are?”

Shadow hesitated. Jin Wu’s lessons about revealing too much flashed in his mind. “None of your business,” he said curtly.

Lin Fen snorted. “Suit yourself, ‘None of Your Business.’” She walked a few steps past him, glancing back with a raised eyebrow. “Hopeless.”

Shadow bristled. “I’m not hopeless.”

“You’re eating bowel-emptier berries in the middle of nowhere.” She gestured to his torn sleeve and the scratches on his arms. “And you’re bleeding. Face it—you’re about one wrong step from falling into a snake pit.”

“I’m fine on my own,” Shadow snapped, crossing his arms defensively.

“Sure you are.” Lin Fen turned away, sauntering off into the trees with a deliberate slowness that set his teeth on edge. “Good luck, then. I’m sure the mercenaries won’t find you out here at all.”

Shadow froze. “Wait. You know about the mercenaries?”

Lin Fen stopped but didn’t turn around. “Know about them? I’ve been watching their large camp for weeks.” Her voice grew colder, her hands curling into fists. “They destroyed everything.”

Shadow stared at her back, the anger in her tone catching him off guard. His grip on his knife loosened slightly. “Everything?” he asked, his voice softening despite himself.

Lin Fen turned her head, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah.”

He sighed, the fight draining out of him. He didn’t have time for this. “Look, I don’t need your help,” he said, though his tone lacked conviction. “I can handle myself.”

Lin Fen grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, sure. That’s why you’re out here bleeding and starving.”

Shadow glared at her, but his stomach growled again, betraying him once more. Lin Fen burst out laughing, the sound clear and bright in the stillness of the forest.

“Fine, they call me Shadow,” Shadow muttered, his shoulders slumping. “Maybe I could use some help.”

Lin Fen grinned, slinging her bow off her shoulder. “Good choice. Follow me. And try not to trip over your own feet, Shadow Boy.”

“It’s not Shadow Boy,” he snapped, but Lin Fen was already walking ahead, her steps light and confident. With a reluctant sigh, Shadow followed, muttering under his breath about annoying girls and meddlesome strangers.

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The Celestial Serenity Sect bamboo forest was cloaked in mist as the quiet of night fell. The gentle hum of Qi flowed through the air like an ever-present current, harmonizing with the rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of waterfalls. Ying Yue sat cross-legged in her sparsely furnished room, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight before her. The faint glow illuminated her sharp features, but her eyes were distant, calculating.

A pulse of energy brushed against her senses—a familiar presence calling her. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself before rising. Draping a thin cloak over her shoulders, she moved to the center of the room. The faint shimmer of a Qi seal embedded into the walls ensured no prying eyes or ears would disturb her.

“Lord,” she murmured, her voice soft yet laced with deference. Her Qi surged briefly, connecting her to the thread of energy stretching beyond the sect’s walls into the shadowed clearing where her master waited.

The connection snapped into place like a lock clicking shut.

“I have news, Lord,” she said quickly, bowing her head even though he could not see her.

“Then speak,” the voice commanded, sharp and cold.

She closed her eyes, steadying her breath. “I have reason to believe the founder’s token is with the Ancestor.”

The immortal’s presence sharpened, the weight of his attention pressing down on her like a blade poised at her throat. “The Ancestor,” he repeated, the words slow and deliberate. “Explain.”

Ying Yue chose her next words carefully, aware of the danger of disappointing him. “I overheard the elders discussing the sect’s history. They mentioned that the Ancestor guards all the Sect's relics. They did not name it outright, but the implications were clear. The token must be with the Ancestor.”

Silence hung in the Qi connection, but it was not empty. The immortal’s presence loomed, crackling faintly with restrained power. Finally, he spoke.

“And you are certain of this?”

“No, Lord,” she admitted, trembling slightly. “I could not confirm it. The Ancestor’s abode is heavily guarded. To investigate further would be risky.”

“Excuses,” the immortal growled, his tone colder now. “If you don't get me results, you can forget about the pill.”

Ying Yue’s hands tightened into fists at her sides, but her tone remained submissive. “I merely require more time.”

“There's little time,” he murmured. “I will not wait another millennium.”

The connection began to fade, but before it severed completely, the immortal’s voice returned, softer but no less menacing. “Confirm the location, Ying Yue; your ambitions mean nothing if you cannot deliver. Do not disappoint me.”

The connection was severed, and her consciousness returned to her dimly lit room. Ying Yue exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping as the tension bled from her body. But her relief was short-lived. The lord's words echoed in her mind, and the prospect of advancement fuelled her resolve.

Far from the Celestial Serenity Sect, Jin Wu sat cross-legged atop his wagon, the faint glow of the Spiritwind Art enveloping him. The energy currents swirled around his seated form, shimmering faintly as they connected his soul to the ethereal plane.

“An Ancestor guarding the token,” Jin Wu murmured to himself, his tone thoughtful. "The Celestial Serenity Sect also has a token. Do all the Sects have one?”

His thoughts drifted to the pillar at the Eternal Harmony Sect, where the founder’s token had rested—broken after the attack.

The words of the immortal lingered in his mind, "Another millennium."

The currents of the Spiritwind shifted, carrying him gently back to the physical plane.

Granny Xiu brayed softly as his spirit returned to his body. He patted her neck absently, his mind already turning over the possibilities.

“Patience, old girl,” he muttered. “We’ve got bigger problems than a late dinner.”

Perhaps he should confide in Elder Jing. Nonetheless, he needed to get to the Ferrets first. He flicked the reins, urging Granny Xiu forward.