Life as a Rogue Cultivator

Chapter 322: Yellow Dragon Sword Art

Liu Xiaolou looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the sun was dipping below the horizon, and the light was already fading.Lin Twin Fish said to Su Jing, “Junior brother, you knelt outside Martial Uncle’s place for so long. You probably really upset him. You should be thinking about how to smooth things over. Go tonight.”

Su Jing nodded. “I’ll go see Master right away and admit my mistake. I’ll beg him to forgive this unfilial disciple. If he won’t forgive me, then I’ll stay on my knees and not get up.”

She urged him, “Go on, hurry. Oh, and it’s getting dark. The great formation is already active, so don’t forget your mountain gate token. Otherwise you won’t be able to get through.”

Su Jing smiled. “Thanks for the reminder, Senior Sister. Don’t worry, I won’t forget. Even if I did, I could always borrow one from Martial Uncle Wu. As the head of Baofeng Temple, it’s his duty to receive honored guests anyway. There’s a mountain gate token in the pen rack box in his study.”

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a piece of emerald-green bamboo, about three inches square, engraved with the words “Formation Token.” From several feet away, Liu Xiaolou could faintly sense spiritual energy flowing through it, extremely weak but there.

Just as he was about to lower his head and take a closer look, something else fell out of Su Jing’s sleeve pouch. It was a scroll.

He carefully beckoned it over and caught it in his hand, then glanced back at Su Jing and Lin Twin Fish. Neither of them had noticed that anything had been dropped. They were still talking as if nothing had happened.

“What about you, Senior Sister? What are you planning to do?”

“Ever since we got back from Luofu Mountain, I haven’t really had a chance to sit down and talk with the junior brothers and sisters... I should go find a few of them.”

“You mean Third Senior Brother and Seventh Senior Sister? And also the two stewards from your extended family? They’re on duty tonight at Jingliang Pavilion, Guanpu Pavilion, and a few other spots.”

“Mm. Of course. I also brought them some mountain mushrooms and spiritual flowers from Luofu Mountain.”

When they finished speaking, the two of them looked over at Liu Xiaolou. Su Jing said, “Brother-in-law, stay here at Baofeng Temple for a few more days for now. I’ll try again to persuade Master to change his mind. Tonight I need to head into the mountain to apologize to him, so I won’t be able to keep you company.”

Lin Twin Fish added, “Abbot Wu is getting on in years. He usually settles into meditation around midnight. Xiaolou, you should probably turn in before then too.”

After that, the two of them clasped their hands to Liu Xiaolou and left together, leaving him alone in the quiet, empty bamboo garden. Only the two candle flames on the stone table flickered gently in the quiet.

Liu Xiaolou unrolled the scroll and held it up to the faint candlelight. It turned out to be a hand-drawn map.

The map had no title and was very simply done, just a dozen or so strokes. The lines so faint and crude they looked like they'd barely kissed the paper. The notes scribbled beside them were downright ugly. Wobbly scrawls that looked like some illiterate kid had been messing around with a brush.

“Baofeng Temple.” “Nine Dragons Cliff.” “Cloudcliff Falls.” “Baiyun Cave.” “Hidden Sword Pavilion.”

Crude as it was, the map clearly traced the mountain path leading from Baofeng Temple deep into the inner mountains, all the way to the Sword-Hiding Pavilion.

And the gate of the mountain’s protective formation lay beneath Nine Dragons Cliff.

Several hidden sentry posts along the mountain path were marked as well.

Liu Xiaolou stood silently at the stone table for a long while. Then he held the map over the candle and burned it to ashes.

Stealing a cultivation manual from the Southern Sea Sword Sect was no small thing. His gut twisted with unease.

But doing nothing felt wrong too. Thirteen and Lin Twin Fish had already laid out the path for him.

He had been out here long enough. It was time to settle this crap once and for all. The broad, open road to continued cultivation lay right in front of him. There was no reason to turn back now.

Liu Xiaolou remained seated until a quarter past midnight. At last, he got to his feet and headed for Abbot Wu’s study.

Baofeng Temple wasn't big, just four courtyards from front to back. Abbot Wu’s study was in the third one. Liu Xiaolou slipped through the moon gate, skirted past a pond and a flower bed, and there it was, right in front of him.

He focused his mind and swept the area within thirty feet with his spiritual sense. Abbot Wu’s location became clear at once. He was in the third quiet room on the right, and judging from his breathing, he was in the middle of cultivation.

Most of the people in the temple were in the first and second courtyards. Only two were in the third, both minor cultivators at the early Qi Refinement stage, asleep in the side rooms.

To be safe, Liu Xiaolou put on the Jade Pendant Concealment and reached out to gently push the door to the study.

Maybe it was because no one had dared to challenge the authority of the South Sea Sword Sect in ages. Baofeng Temple had enjoyed peace for too long, and its guard was laughably lax. The study door was not even locked. There were no formations, no traps, nothing at all. Every trick Liu Xiaolou had prepared for breaking in turned out to be useless. And he slipped inside without a sound.

The study was divided into two rooms. The one on the right had no door. When he leaned in to look, he saw shelves lined with racks. All of them crammed with brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and all kinds of books, packed in tight.

There were no tables or chairs.

The room on the left did have a door, and it looked solid and heavy, shut tight from top to bottom. One glance told him this was where the important items were kept. Liu Xiaolou placed his hand on the door again, gathered his strength, and gave it a short push. The thick door opened, silently.

It was unlocked as well, with no formations or traps set up. Pure luck, honestly.

Sure enough, there was a writing desk inside. Sitting on it was a brush rack about a foot long. Liu Xiaolou stepped closer and saw a small box beside the rack, its lid half open, revealing two bamboo tokens inside.

The tokens were a deep, glossy green, exactly the same as the entry token Su Jing had shown earlier.

He did not even need to touch the little wooden box. With a flick of his finger, he hooked one of the tokens out.

Liu Xiaolou quickly left the study, pulled the door shut, and restored everything to the way it had been. A few swift bounds later, he was out of Baofeng Temple.

Under the heavy cover of night, he followed the route marked on the map and slipped deeper into the mountains. Xiqiao Mountain was not very large, and it did not take long for him to reach Nine Dragons Cliff. Everything in front of him was pitch black. He couldn't make out whatever the hell those dark boulders were supposed to look like nine dragons. Didn't give a damn, either. He swept out with his divine sense and immediately picked up the spiritual energy ripples from a formation.

With the entry token in hand, there was no need to puzzle over how to break the formation. At first, he moved forward one careful step at a time, testing his way in. When nothing happened, he grew bolder and picked up the pace.

Following the route marked on the map, the path soon curved toward Cloudcliff Falls. One glance was enough to recognize one of Xiqiao Mountain’s famed sights. The waterfall carried plenty of water, yet it made surprisingly little noise. Only when spray splashed against his body at the base did he finally hear its roar. An anti-sound formation had clearly been set up.

Recalling the map, Liu Xiaolou knew that if he continued up along the normal path, there would be a hidden lookout posted by the South Sea Sword Sect around the bend. After watching for a moment, he decided to avoid the sentry altogether and climb up directly from the top of Cloudcliff Falls.

The falls were not very high, a bit over fifty feet. One leap carried him to the top.

Then his foot slipped.

He nearly sat down hard in the water.

Less than thirty feet ahead, beside a rock outcrop, someone was seated cross-legged. The person’s gaze was deep and distant, like it passed straight through Liu Xiaolou and fixed on some unknown point behind his back.

Liu Xiaolou stood there in a daze, not knowing what to do or even what to think. First came a wave of blank confusion, then a rush of chaotic thoughts. Should he just go for it and attack? But if he did, how would he clean it up afterward? He had no plan at all.

He had no idea how much time passed. A few breaths, maybe a few cups of tea, a few sticks of incense, maybe longer. Then the person suddenly tilted his head slightly, as if listening. He groped for the rock beneath him with both hands, and he rose unsteadily to his feet, still listening intently.

All at once, Liu Xiaolou snapped back to himself. A thought flickered through his mind, and he shifted one step to the side. The other man did not react. His eyes remained vacant, his ears still straining for sound. Liu Xiaolou took another step sideways. Still no change at all.

No way. Could his luck really be this good? Was this guy blind? And deaf, too?

Relief flooded over Liu Xiaolou. Step by step, he eased himself out of the waterfall’s flow and continued on toward the Sutra Pavilion, silent as a shadow.