CHAPTER

31

Something You Can’t Ignore

I

Hao Zhen did his best to clear his head. That Duo Lan was the daughter of the sect leader didn’t surprise him much. That was one of the possibilities he had considered. Her previous words—as well as Tian Jin’s—were what had him reeling. Duo Lan and Tian Jin being aware of the weird behavior of those around them—and the implications of that fact—confirmed many of his theories, but at the same, raised a lot of questions.

Right now, however, the priority was getting to the bottom of Duo Lan’s real identity and whether it could somehow be the key to turning this situation around.

Hao Zhen took in Duo Lan’s expression. Her crinkled nose, her narrowed eyes, her pressed lips, her tensed jaw—all of that conveyed clear distaste. There was also something fierce and defensive in her eyes as she looked at him and Tian Jin.

Hao Zhen braced himself for the rest of the conversation. He had an inkling about what was going on with Duo Lan. If he was right about his suspicions, this would be a rather painful talk, not just because of the topic, but also because of how prickly Duo Lan could be.

Hao Zhen glanced at Tian Jin. The other boy was giving Duo Lan a look of shock. Now that Hao Zhen thought about it, all he had discussed with Tian Jin before about Duo Lan’s identity was that she had something to do with the upper echelons of the sect. He had never voiced any of his more specific suspicions, and it seemed that Duo Lan being the sect leader’s daughter hadn’t crossed Tian Jin’s mind before.

“I see,” Hao Zhen said, deciding to take over the questioning before Tian Jin did something to set Duo Lan off. The ensuing conversation would require some level of subtlety, something that Tian Jin didn’t exactly have in spades.

“So, Duo Lan—well, Lan Yue,” Hao Zhen said, correcting himself. He cringed a little. It seemed like Tian Jin wasn’t the only one lacking in the subtlety department. Then again, out of all the recent revelations, that Duo Lan was actually called Lan Yue was the least important one, so it had ended up being pushed to the back of his mind. “Why exactly are you hiding your identity?”

Lan Yue focused on him, her dark brown eyes peering into his. Now that he thought about it, her plain appearance probably wasn’t what she actually looked like, either. Important female characters in cultivation novels were always breathtakingly beautiful, and everything so far seemed to indicate that the same applied to this world. Lan Yue certainly wasn’t ugly, but she looked too average for this to be what she actually looked like. Most likely, she was using some sort of illusion talisman to mask her true appearance. The fact that was one of the most common tropes in cultivation novels only reinforced that idea.

This was something he could address later, however. Whether Lan Yue was actually some kind of city-toppling beauty—as female characters in cultivation novels were often described—wouldn’t be of any help with the murderous inner elder situation.

“I…” Lan Yue furrowed her brow, her jaw becoming tighter. “I made a bet with my father.”

Hao Zhen suppressed the urge to sigh. It seemed like he had been right, after all. This would be a pretty contrived conversation indeed. “A bet?” he asked, trying to sound intrigued instead of exasperated. If he was right about what was going on, Lan Yue’s identity as the sect leader’s daughter could be of some help to them, but it wouldn’t be easy to get her to use it.

“He wants me to marry the son of the city lord of Drifting Clouds City. I refused, and he… he told me that everything I had, I owed to him, so he had the right to decide my own fate.” She was clenching her hands into fists. “I told him that he was wrong—that I could do just fine on my own.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to calm herself.

By this point, Hao Zhen no longer had any doubts that his assumptions were correct, but he figured it’d be best to let her continue explaining. He glanced at Tian Jin and saw that the other boy was giving Lan Yue a rather perplexed, confused look, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation.

“So I made a wager with him,” Lan Yue continued. “In one year, I’d be the top-ranked inner disciple—and I’d do it without his help, all through my own efforts. If I could achieve that, he’d call the marriage off.”

With that, Lan Yue fell silent, her expression grim.

Hao Zhen nodded his head. What Lan Yue said explained all her behavior so far—her haughtiness, her knowledge, and more importantly, her competitiveness. Hao Zhen reckoned that Lan Yue was naturally competitive, but the bet only inflamed that aspect of her personality. After all, how could she expect to become the top inner disciple when she wasn’t even considered the top outer disciple? It was no wonder she used to be so antagonistic of Tian Jin.

Hao Zhen decided to let Lan Yue cool down for a little while. They didn’t exactly have a lot of time—the talisman Lan Yue had used wouldn’t keep the inner elder imprisoned forever—but he figured it’d be for the best to continue this conversation once she was a little calmer. As he waited, Hao Zhen took this opportunity to sort out his thoughts and consider how to proceed. He peered down the magical cloud. The valley was even more massive than he had originally thought. In all directions, all he could see was a boundless ocean of green.

After a few moments, he returned his gaze to Lan Yue. She had relaxed a little, her expression losing some of its tightness.

“All right,” Hao Zhen said softly, drawing her attention. Tian Jin, who had his head lowered, immersed in his thoughts, also looked up at him. “This bet of yours—if you used your identity to deal with the inner elder, what would your father say about it?”

Lan Yue gave a bitter laugh. She looked like she had already been expecting that question. “He’d say he won.”

“Even though you’d be doing it to save your life?”

“He wouldn’t care. I can’t make use of my status as his daughter for a year. That’s our agreement,” she said. There was still some heat in her voice, but it seemed to have simmered down a fair bit. “He knows that it wouldn’t be fair, but he would still say he had won, and that would be the end of it.”

No surprise there. Hao Zhen hesitated, before deciding to dig a little deeper. “What about you—would you simply accept that? He can insist that he won, but can’t you also double down and say that it didn’t count?”

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Based on what he knew of Lan Yue, he didn’t think she’d merely submit to her fate just like that. Since she had already stood up to her father and struck up this bet, there was nothing stopping her from refusing to lose on a technicality.

“You don’t understand,” Lan Yue said, shaking her head. “This bet—my father only agreed to it because my grandfather sided with me. I wouldn’t be able to make him change his mind, myself. And my grandfather… to be honest, he also wants the arranged marriage to go forward. He’s good friends with the city lord, and he thinks highly of my… suitor.” Her expression darkened. “I know he just agreed to help me because he didn’t think I could win the bet. If I lose, even if it’s because I had no other choice, he will take my father’s side.”

Hao Zhen frowned. Now things were making a little more sense. There was someone else involved in the bet, and the sect leader’s control over Lan Yue was greater than he had assumed. Where before she had been speaking with fire in her eyes, she now looked despondent.

“Okay,” Hao Zhen said. “How about this: We’ll try to deal with the elder through some other means. Only if we have no other option will we rely on your identity.” Just in case, he added, “And If it comes to that, we’ll try to think of a way of convincing the elder to keep quiet about what happened, or if your father does end up hearing about this, we’ll try to figure out a way to get you out of the arranged marriage. How does that sound?”

Lan Yue narrowed her eyes at him. After a moment, she nodded her head. “All right. I can agree with that.”

Hao Zhen then glanced at Tian Jin, who also nodded.

There were other questions Hao Zhen wanted to ask—such as who exactly Lan Yue’s grandfather was and what was the reason behind her enmity with Du Qing—but he decided to leave them for later. As far as he could tell, Du Qing didn’t seem to be aware of who Lan Yue really was, and her grandfather was most likely a prime elder of the sect, or maybe a protector.

Right now, he was far more preoccupied with coming up with a plan to handle their pursuer. To begin with, he wasn’t even certain having Lan Yue reveal her identity would be a good idea. Certainly, upon finding out who Lan Yue was, the inner elder working with Du Qing could completely change his mind about killing and apologize for going after them. There was, however, a possibility that the man would decide that it’d be better to kill all three of them, even if Lan Yue was the sect leader’s daughter, in order to leave no evidence of his dealings with Du Qing.

Hao Zhen had seen both scenarios play out in cultivation novels in situations similar to the one they were in, and he didn’t fancy leaving his fate up to chance. Using Lan Yue’s identity was, as he had told her, a last resort.

Over the next few minutes, they talked some more, fleshing out their plans a bit further. Their priority was drawing the attention of a prime elder. Lan Yue was confident that there was absolutely no way that Du Qing could have gotten one on his side, and Hao Zhen was inclined to believe her on that front. Not only that, Lan Yue was familiar with all the prime elders of the sect, so if she did end up having to reveal her identity, things would pan out far more smoothly.

“Bao Yun is also an option if we can’t find the prime elder,” Hao Zhen said. He paused, focusing on Tian Jin. “That reminds me—you wouldn’t happen to have her sound-transmission imprint, would you?”

“No,” Tian Jin said. “I never asked her for it, and she never offered.”

Hao Zhen sighed, having already figured as much. He remembered how Bao Yun had worriedly rushed over to Tian Jin’s place after they returned from the mission, so it was clear she hadn’t had his sound-transmission imprint then, but he had hoped, for a moment, that they might have exchanged imprints later.

“What about you?” Hao Zhen turned to Lan Yue. “Do you know anyone else we can go to if we can’t find the prime elder?”

She frowned. “I’m not familiar with any inner elder, but I do know some prime disciples.”

“Do you know any that might have a feud with Du Qing?”

“Two, I think.” She paused, then added, “We can also try my brother. He’s a prime disciple, so he should be here too.” She didn’t seem all that happy about the idea, but her reaction wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been when she was talking about her father.

Hao Zhen perked up at that. A brother—that was a start. Maybe this situation wasn’t as hopeless as he had thought. “All right. Do you have his sound-transmission imprint, just in case?”

“No,” Lan Yue said. “I mean, I do, but it’s on another sound-transmission token. My original one. I don’t have it with me. The only imprints I have on my current token are yours and Tian Jin’s.”

Hao Zhen stared at Lan Yue, taking a moment to process what she had just said. “Why— How—” He shook his head, incredulous. Lan Yue knew that Du Qing would go after them during the Glistening Stone Hunt, but she hadn’t thought to bring her other sound-transmission token with her? He had been about to ask her whether she had a way of contacting her grandfather, but he didn’t even bother after hearing that.

“Why didn’t you—” Hao Zhen cut himself off. There was no point in asking Lan Yue her reasons for leaving her incredibly useful sound-transmission token—which probably had not only her brother’s imprint, but probably also her grandfather’s and father’s—behind. Maybe she had decided not to bring it because she didn’t want to rely on her family. Maybe she had simply forgotten. Maybe she even had a good reason for it. It didn’t matter. Asking these questions would only waste time they could spend planning.

“All right. What about your belongings—is there anything we can use? Perhaps another Radiant Light Imprisonment Talisman?” Hao Zhen asked instead.

“I only have another one of it. They were both gifts from my grandfather. He gave them to me before I took the entrance examinations. He said that if I ever found myself in a dangerous situation, I was to use one of them on myself and send him a sound transmission.” She shrugged. “Besides that, the only other things I took with me were some ingredients I’d need to concoct a few pills I was interested in, as I already knew I’d be pursuing alchemy after I became a cultivator. Everything else I have, I earned on my own after becoming an outer disciple.”

Another Radiant Light Imprisonment Talisman could be used to buy them some time, but not much more. If Lan Yue had her other sound-transmission token with her, it’d be a different story, as they could use the talisman on themselves, as suggested by her grandfather, and use the token to call someone from Lan Yue’s family over. Then again, he didn’t know if there was some kind of range limit to sound-transmission tokens, so maybe that wouldn’t have been possible.

It seemed like their best bet was indeed heading over into the Inner Forest and looking for help over there, then. Hao Zhen rubbed his forehead. It wasn’t nearly as solid a plan as he had hoped, but he had pretty much exhausted all other options. Still, he went over the situation again in his head, just in case he had missed something.

Moments after he started thinking, however, he noticed the magical cloud start to slow down. Confused, he turned toward Tian Jin, who was looking out into the distance, frowning.

“Tian Jin?”

“I feel… something,” Tian Jin said without turning around. He motioned with his head vaguely toward the direction he was looking at.

Hao Zhen frowned. He glanced at Lan Yue, who was also giving Tian Jin a look of confusion. “You feel something?”

“There’s something calling me.” Tian Jin finally turned his head back toward them. He looked as confused as them. “I can’t really explain it. It’s… strange. It’s like I know there’s something there?”

Hao Zhen’s confusion gave way to suspicion. Could this be… He looked deeply at Tian Jin. Tian Jin wasn’t someone that would joke or lie about something like this, so there was definitely something going on. He didn’t think Tian Jin was crazy, either.

Hao Zhen felt his heart skip a beat.

Sometimes, in cultivation novels, protagonists got these feelings they couldn’t really explain. It was usually subtler than whatever Tian Jin was experiencing, but if Hao Zhen wasn’t wrong about this…

“How far away are we from the Inner Forest?” Hao Zhen asked Lan Yue.

She had been the one leading them through the forest—something else Hao Zhen would have to ask her about, now that he thought about it—so maybe she’d have an idea.

“About ten minutes, I think,” she said.

“And how long has it been since you used the talisman on the elder?”

“About half an hour.” This time, it was Tian Jin who answered.

The two of them were both looking at Hao Zhen curiously.

He considered the situation. They had another Radiant Light Imprisonment Talisman, which could buy them another hour. Considering how close they were to their destination…

Hao Zhen didn’t like taking risks, but he felt that this one might just be worth taking.

He nodded at Tian Jin. “Let’s go.”

“Go?”

“You had a feeling, didn’t you?” Hao Zhen said. “Let’s see if there’s something there.”

If there was one thing Hao Zhen knew about cultivation novels, it was that the protagonist’s intuition should never be ignored—particularly when they were running from danger.