Departure!

Chapter 169 Departure!

The sun is just right, the breeze is not dry.

The streets and alleys of Baishafang were as bustling as ever, with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, bargaining, and acquaintances exchanging greetings all blending together to create a vibrant symphony of everyday life.

However, amidst this hustle and bustle, an unusual atmosphere of tension permeated the secluded alley leading to "Zhou Ji's Talisman Making".

Two middle-aged monks dressed in gray robes were standing in front of the wooden door that had been closed for two years.

Both of them were at the mid-Foundation Establishment stage, and in this White Sand Village, they were considered to be quite formidable figures.

The tall, thin man on the left has prominent cheekbones, a sinister look in his eyes, and a faint, cold smile at the corner of his mouth.

The one on the right was shorter and fatter, with a protruding belly and a face full of menacing features; he was clearly not a good guy. The two of them stood there, exuding an aura of hostility that made any wandering cultivators who wanted to pass through the alley give them a wide berth.

"You brat, I'll say it again, get out of the way."

The tall, thin man's voice was sinister, like a cold winter wind: "We're here to see Manager Zhou, not you. You little brat, don't get in my way."

Xia Xiaoxing stood in front of the door, her small body ramrod straight.

He was wearing a faded blue cloth shirt with frayed cuffs, and he was only up to the waist of the tall, thin man. But he held his head high, his eyes showing no fear, like a fledgling bird guarding its nest, knowing it was no match for him, yet not retreating an inch.

His voice was clear and firm: "My master is in seclusion and no one is allowed to disturb him. Please leave."

"Seclusion?" Upon hearing this, the short, stout cultivator exchanged a glance with the tall, thin man, both revealing a meaningful, mocking smile.

The short, stout cultivator chuckled, his voice rough and grating like sandpaper. "You've been locked up for two years already, still in seclusion? I bet your master is already dead in there. An old man at the peak of Qi Refining, it's not impossible. When lifespan ends, the lamp burns out, we've seen plenty of that."

"You're talking nonsense!"

Xia Xiaoxing's face flushed red, her hands clenched into fists so tightly her nails almost dug into her palms. "My master is fine! He's just still in seclusion! You're not allowed to talk nonsense!"

"Alright, alright, even if he's still alive."

The tall, thin man waved his hand, as if to say, "I won't stoop to your level," but the contempt in his eyes was undisguised. "Then he owes us spirit stones, shouldn't he pay them back? We've been waiting for two years. This debt can't just be left unpaid. Move aside and let us go in and talk to him face to face."

Xia Xiaoxing remained unyielding, her small figure blocking the doorway like a stubborn rock: "My master doesn't owe anyone spirit stones. If you continue to bother me, I'll report you for harassment to the market patrol!"

"Hey! You little brat, you're asking for trouble, aren't you?" The short, stout cultivator's face darkened, and he took a step forward. A wave of spiritual pressure from a Foundation Establishment cultivator surged towards Xia Xiaoxing like an invisible tide.

Although he didn't dare to actually kill a child, he was quite adept at using spiritual pressure to intimidate them and make them back down.

Xia Xiaoxing felt a heavy pressure coming at him, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe and causing his legs to tremble slightly.

But he gritted his teeth and stood firmly in place, his clear black and white eyes burning with a stubbornness and tenacity beyond his years.

He remembered his master's words: "On the path of cultivation, the most important thing is to maintain one's original intention."

If you don't even have the courage to stand up when you encounter injustice, what kind of immortality are you cultivating?

Just as the short, stout cultivator's spiritual pressure grew heavier and heavier, and Xia Xiaoxing's forehead was already beaded with sweat, her knees beginning to bend slightly—

"stop!"

A loud shout, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, exploded at the entrance of the alley!

Immediately afterwards, a blue figure shot over like an arrow and landed steadily in front of Xia Xiaoxing, blocking all the incoming spiritual pressure.

Xia Xiaoxing looked up and saw a tall figure blocking his way.

The man was dressed in a blue robe, his figure as upright as a pine tree, like a solid shield, keeping all the wind and rain out.

It's Chen Mu.

Two years had passed, and Chen Mu's demeanor was even more composed and refined than before.

The initial stage of Foundation Establishment has been completely stabilized, and there is even a faint tendency to move towards the middle stage.

He stood there, his gaze sharp as a knife, coldly sweeping over the two middle-aged cultivators, his voice carrying undisguised chill: "Gentlemen, what kind of skill is it to bully a child?"

The tall, thin man squinted, sizing Chen Mu up and down, a playful smile curling at the corner of his lips: "Oh, who do we have here? It's the newly promoted Foundation Establishment cultivator, Chen Mu. What, you want to stand up for this brat?"

His tone was clearly contemptuous.

Although Chen Mu was also a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he was only at the early stage of Foundation Establishment and had only broken through a few years ago. He was no match for these two veteran Foundation Establishment cultivators at the middle stage.

Chen Mu's expression remained unchanged, but his grip on the sword tightened slightly.

He knew he was no match for the two of them, but he couldn't bear to watch Xia Xiaoxing being bullied.

When he was down on his luck, it was Uncle Zhou who sold him the best talismans at the lowest price, allowing him to survive time and time again on the verge of death.

He always kept this kindness in his heart.

Now that Uncle Zhou is gone, if he can't even protect his disciples, what kind of immortal is he cultivating, and what kind of human is he?

"I just can't stand people bullying the weak."

Chen Mu's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable firmness. "Uncle Zhou is an old friend of mine, and I cannot ignore his affairs. If you two truly have a debt dispute with Uncle Zhou, perhaps you should wait until he emerges from seclusion. Making things difficult for a child like this might not be good for your reputations if word gets out."

"reputation?"

The short, stout cultivator grinned as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, revealing a set of uneven, yellow teeth. "We've been in this White Sand Village for so many years, do you think you can teach us how to behave? Chen Mu, I advise you to be sensible and mind your own business. You're just a junior who's only been at the Foundation Establishment stage for a few years, do you really think you can cause any trouble?"

Chen Mu's eyes darkened, and his internal magical power began to circulate secretly.

He knew this battle was inevitable, but he did not back down.

His hand was already on the hilt of the sword, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure: "In that case, please enlighten me, both of you."

The atmosphere in the alley instantly became tense. The air seemed to freeze, and even the distant hustle and bustle of the city seemed to fade into the distance.

Some bold rogue cultivators peeked out from afar to take a look, then quickly retreated back inside.

Conflicts between Foundation Establishment cultivators are not a common occurrence in Baishafang.

The tall, thin man and the short, stout man exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of coldness in each other's eyes.

They originally just wanted to scare the child, force him to move aside, and then go inside and take over the shop.

A shop left behind by an old man who has reached the peak of Qi Refining can always be made some money.

Unexpectedly, Chen Mu appeared out of nowhere, and he was so ungrateful.

"Since you're courting death, don't blame us." The tall, thin man sneered, and with a flick of his wrist, a flying sword gleaming with a cold light appeared in his palm, its tip emitting a sharp sword light.

The short, stout monk chuckled and untied a jet-black whip from his waist. A faint layer of black energy was wrapped around the whip, giving off a chilling aura.

Chen Mu took a deep breath, and slowly drew his long sword from its sheath. The blade reflected a luster like autumn water in the sunlight.

He knew his chances of winning were slim, but he had no other choice.

He turned his head slightly and whispered to Xia Xiaoxing behind him, "Xiaoxing, step back."

Xia Xiaoxing opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing Chen Mu's resolute back, she ultimately took a few steps back silently.

His little fists were still clenched tightly, his nails almost piercing his palms.

Just as the two sides were about to make their move—

The sinister smiles on the faces of the two middle-aged cultivators suddenly froze.

Without any warning or sound, the light in their eyes vanished instantly, like a candle blown out by the wind.

Their bodies remained in a posture ready to strike.

The tall, thin man had just raised his flying sword when the short, stout cultivator was about to strike with his whip, but their souls had already been completely erased without a sound.

"Thump."

"Thump."

Two muffled sounds rang out almost simultaneously.

The two Foundation Establishment stage cultivators fell straight forward like two sawn-down wooden stakes, crashing heavily to the ground and raising a cloud of dust.

Their eyes were still open, their pupils dilated, and the狰狞 smiles still lingered on their faces, as if they hadn't even realized that death had come.

Chen Mu was stunned.

He remained frozen in place, sword in hand, as if under a spell.

He looked down at the two lifeless corpses on the ground, his mind blank.

What happened?

He did nothing, so how did these two people die?

He could clearly sense that the two people's auras had completely disappeared, without even a trace of residual soul fluctuations.

They weren't killed by an attack, but rather it was as if their souls were erased from this world by some incomprehensible force.

He suddenly raised his head, his gaze sweeping around with suspicion and uncertainty, trying to find the person who had made the move from the shadows.

But the alley was empty, except for a lone cultivator peeking out from afar, and Xia Xiaoxing behind him, who also looked bewildered.

Just then—

"Squeak"

The wooden door, which had been tightly closed for two years, let out a long, drawn-out groan, as if it had been sleeping for too long and was now awakening, and slowly opened.

Chen Mu's body jolted, and he slowly turned his head to look at the door.

A figure slowly walked out from inside the door.

He was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his fifties, with gray hair and wearing a faded gray cloth robe, just like Uncle Zhou in his memory.

But when he finally saw the person's eyes clearly, he suddenly felt that the person in front of him was both familiar and strange.

It was still Uncle Zhou's face, still Uncle Zhou's figure, still Uncle Zhou wearing that old robe. But his eyes were completely different from before.

Those were no longer the gentle, weary, and weathered eyes of an old, rogue cultivator at the Qi Refining stage. They were eyes that he couldn't describe.

Like a bottomless, icy pool, or a vast, boundless starry sky. There was no fluctuation of emotion in those eyes, only an unfathomable calm, as if everything in the world became insignificant under their gaze.

What alarmed Chen Mu even more was that he was completely unable to sense the other party's presence.

The person was standing right in front of him, only a few steps away, but when his divine sense swept over them, it was as if he had swept through a void, and there was nothing there.

The feeling was as if he wasn't standing in front of a person, but rather an abyss.

"Uncle Zhou—?" Chen Mu's voice was a little dry, with a hint of uncertainty.

He even began to doubt whether the person in front of him was really the Uncle Zhou he knew.

Zhou Ding did not answer, but slowly walked to the two corpses and looked down at them.

His gaze was calm, devoid of pity or disgust, as if he were looking at two insignificant objects.

Then, he raised his head and looked at Chen Mu. When his self-sunlight fell on Chen Mu's face, a gentle warmth finally emerged from that unfathomable calm, like the first melting of ice and snow, and the blooming of spring flowers.

"Chen Mu, thank you for your hard work."

His voice was still the gentle voice Chen Mu remembered, but now it had an indescribable meaning, as if every word carried a special rhythm, making people want to listen involuntarily.

Chen Mu opened his mouth, a thousand words stuck in his throat, but he couldn't utter a single one.

He had many questions to ask.

How did those two people die?

Uncle Zhou, who exactly are you?

What exactly is your cultivation level?

Why did you hide your identity and run a talisman shop in Baishafang for twenty years?

But in the end, he asked nothing. Because he suddenly realized that some things were not for him to ask; some people were not for him to investigate.

Zhou Ding seemed to see through his thoughts. Without explaining, he simply walked up to him, reached out, and gently patted his shoulder.

When that hand landed on his shoulder, Chen Mu felt a gentle yet powerful force surge into his body like a warm current, instantly soothing some of the hidden injuries in his body that had not fully healed due to long-term battles. It even made his bottleneck in the early stage of Foundation Establishment slightly loosen.

"This Zhou's Talisman Making shop is now in your hands." Zhou Ding's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable air of authority. "The shop may not be large, but it's more than enough to make a living. If you're willing, continue running it; if not, close it down."

Chen Mu was stunned. Just as he was about to say something, he saw Zhou Ding turn around, walk up to Xia Xiaoxing, reach out and gently rub the child's head.

"Little Star, come with your master."

Xia Xiaoxing looked up at Zhou Ding's familiar face and those unfamiliar eyes.

He didn't hesitate, didn't ask what had just happened, and didn't look back at the two corpses lying on the ground.

He simply nodded vigorously, stretched out his small hand, and grasped Zhou Ding's large, calloused, yet exceptionally warm hand.

Then, under Chen Mu's watchful eye, Zhou Ding took Xia Xiaoxing's hand and walked step by step along the alleyway outwards.

Their pace was not fast, and could even be described as leisurely, but with each step they took, their figures seemed to become a little blurry, as if they were slowly fading away from this space.

Just as their figures were about to disappear into the shadows at the alley entrance, Chen Mu finally snapped out of his daze, took two quick steps forward, and shouted, "Uncle Zhou—! You—who exactly are you?"

Zhou Ding did not turn around, but paused slightly in his steps.

A calm voice, as if coming from a great distance, or as if resounding directly in Chen Mu's mind, said: "Just an old acquaintance passing by."

Before the words were even finished, the two figures vanished completely into the sunlight at the alley entrance, like smoke dispersed by the wind.

As if it had never existed, only Chen Mu remained, standing blankly in front of the open wooden door, lost in thought for a long time.

After a long while, Chen Mu slowly came to his senses. He took a deep breath, turned around, and walked into the small shop he had visited countless times.

The store's layout was exactly as he remembered it—the counter was still in its original position, the old wooden chair was still behind the counter, and the shelves were empty, covered with a thin layer of dust.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the wooden floor. The air was filled with the faint, distinctive scent of talisman ink and yellow paper—the smell of "Zhou's Talisman Making" from his memory.

He walked to the counter, and his gaze suddenly froze.

On the counter, a gray storage bag sat quietly. The storage bag looked very ordinary, without any patterns or decorations, and even the fluctuations of spiritual energy were very weak, as if it were just a very low-grade storage bag.

But Chen Mu could sense that this storage bag was specifically reserved for him.

He reached out and picked up the storage bag with trembling hands, probing it with his divine sense.

The next moment, his pupils suddenly contracted, and he froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.

Inside the storage bag were several top-tier magical artifacts!

Each one was imbued with spiritual light, radiating astonishing spiritual energy fluctuations, far superior to any magical artifact he had ever seen!

Among them was a flying sword that shimmered with a pale blue light, its blade as clear as autumn water, faintly emitting the sound of a dragon's roar; there was a silver-white inner armor, as thin as a cicada's wing, yet exuding an aura of indestructibility; and there was a small shield the size of a palm, its surface engraved with mysterious runes, clearly a defensive treasure.

In addition, there were several bottles of pills, a pile of spirit stones, and a jade slip recording a certain cultivation technique.

Any one of these treasures would be enough to make Foundation Establishment cultivators fight tooth and nail for it.

At this moment, they lay quietly in the storage bag, as if they were just gifts left behind casually.

Chen Mu held the storage bag, his hands trembling slightly.

He suddenly understood.

Uncle Zhou was not the old rogue cultivator he thought he was.

For twenty years, Uncle Zhou, who sat behind the counter in silence, selling talismans at low prices, Uncle Zhou who helped him when he was at his lowest point, Uncle Zhou whom he thought was just an ordinary old man, probably had a true identity that far exceeded his imagination.

He turned around, walked to the doorway, faced the empty alley, and slowly knelt down in the direction Zhou Ding had disappeared.

His knees slammed heavily against the bluestone slabs, making a dull thud, but he seemed to feel no pain.

He bent down, his forehead pressed against the cold stone slab, his voice hoarse but filled with heartfelt gratitude and respect: "Uncle Zhou—no, senior—your immense kindness and virtue, Chen Mu—will never forget!"

His voice echoed softly in the empty alley, but no one responded.

Only the wind rustling through the leaves of the old locust tree seemed to be accepting this belated farewell on behalf of someone.

From that day on, the "Zhou Ji Talisman" had a new owner.

Chen Mu took over the small shop and continued to sell high-quality talismans at low prices. Occasionally, he would also help young rogue cultivators who were struggling at the bottom of society, just like he had been back then.

Some say that Manager Chen learned his talisman-making skills from a reclusive master; others say that the shop has good feng shui, which is why the business is so prosperous.

Only Chen Mu himself knew that a great figure, someone he could never reach, once sat in that small shop.