Life as a Rogue Cultivator

Chapter 320: It’s Getting Dark

Down at the foot of Xiqiao Mountain, in front of Baofeng Temple, Liu Xiaolou was pacing around Baiyun Pond. The pond was small, barely three mu in size, yet he had been circling it since dawn, all the way into the afternoon. He didn't once glance at the lotus flowers blooming on the water or the fish darting underneath. Head down, brooding, he just kept walking, lap after lap after endless lap.He had lost track of how many times he'd looked up now, but whenever he did, his eyes always drifted to the northwest. Up there in the mountains lay Baiyun Cave. Through the trees, he could just make out a cluster of halls and pavilions scattered among the greenery. That was the inner gate of the Southern Sea Sword Sect. The Three Lakes Sword Academy, Kuiguang Sword Pavilion, Cloudspring Sword Hall were all there.

A greeter from Baofeng Temple stepped outside and called to him, “Senior, our abbot has prepared food and wine. He invites you to come inside and talk.”

Baofeng Temple and the Southern Sea Sword Sect both sat on Xiqiao Mountain. Officially, they were just neighbors with no direct affiliation. In reality, Baofeng Temple served as the sect’s guest hall, dedicated to hosting distinguished visitors from afar. The abbot, Wu Hua, was a close relative of the Wu family branch. By generation, he was a cousin of the Second Elder, Wu Changqing.

The man was already past sixty. Despite his serene and sage-like appearance, he had little natural talent for cultivation. The Southern Sea Sword Sect basically force-fed him spiritual pills to cram him up to the tenth layer of Qi Refinement. Still, he had an excellent presence, broad experience, and a sharp understanding of people and social graces. Placed at Baofeng Temple, he was, all things considered, put to good use.

Abbot Wu personally hosted the meal and drinks, and Liu Xiaolou couldn’t very well turn down his hospitality. He followed the greeter into the temple and sat down with Abbot Wu at a stone table beneath a stand of lush green bamboo, the two of them drinking together.

After several rounds of wine and a full spread of dishes, Abbot Wu noticed that Liu Xiaolou seemed distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Twin Fish is the head disciple under the Grand Elder,” he said gently to reassure him. “And Su Thirteen is Elder Bai’s beloved pupil. With the two of them going into the mountains together, there’s very little they can’t get done. Whatever it is, they almost never come back empty-handed. You’ll hear something soon, my friend. Try not to worry.”

All he knew was that this “Daoist Liu” had some family connection to Su Jing, and he guessed that Liu had come to ask for a favor of some kind. As for the details, he had no idea. Liu Xiaolou, of course, couldn’t spell it out for him either. He simply raised his cup. “I’ll take that as a good omen from you, Abbot.”

Seeing the worry still etched on Liu Xiaolou’s face, Abbot Wu tried to lift his spirits by chatting about the big events currently shaking the cultivation world. He started with a strange story out of Yunxu Cave on Mount Wuyi, then shifted to the ongoing war between the Maling Sect and the Qingyuan Sect.

“I hear Maling Mountain has pushed south in force,” he said. “Counting their own people and the cultivators they recruited, they’ve got over two hundred. Qingyuan isn’t backing down either. They’ve gathered several hundred of their own. And get this. A while back, Maling even sent recruiters as far as Nanshan Town, just north of our Xiqiao Mountain. That crossed a line. I had to make a trip there myself and talk it out with Feng Yuanfa, the man in charge of recruiting rogue cultivators for them. Only then did they pull back ten li to the north. Now both sides have set up major formations at the mouth of the North River. By the look of it, a brutal fight is just around the corner.”

Liu Xiaolou checked inside his Qiankun Pouch. Sure enough, he spotted the character “Feng” on the satchel Feilongzi had snatched. Curious, he asked, “So what level is this Feng Yuanfa at?”

Abbot Wu replied, “Early Foundation Establishment. He uses a pair of judge’s pens, and among the inner disciples of the Qingyuan Sect, he ranks eighth.”

Liu Xiaolou thought back to the chaos of the day he had forced his way through the mountain pass. So that man’s name was Feng Yuanfa. He couldn’t help wondering how he was doing now, after taking a beating from Feilongzi’s flying arrows. Had his injuries healed yet?

When the conversation drifted back to the impending clash between the two sects at the mouth of the North River, Liu Xiaolou found himself losing interest again. Reading the room, Abbot Wu smoothly steered the topic elsewhere, toward Jing-Xiang and the Jiangnan region.

“Truth is, while things are heating up down here in Lingnan with Maling Mountain and Qingyuan Mountain at each other’s throats, the north isn’t any calmer,” Abbot Wu said. “By all appearances, the Jinting Sect and the Qingyu Sect are on the brink of war as well. By the way, do you know whether the Danxia Sect plans to get involved? Su Thirteen mentioned that you’re his brother-in-law, Daoist Liu.”

Liu Xiaolou froze for a second. “The Jinting Sect and the Qingyu Sect are about to go to war?” he said. “Is that information reliable?”

Abbot Wu looked a little surprised. “You didn’t know? This is the biggest news in the Jing-Xiang cultivation world right now. Both sides are rallying allies. I hear the Qingyu Sect has already invited the Zhanglong Sect, the Lu clan of Mount Tianmu, and the Dongyang Sect, and they’re planning to bring the Danxia Sect in as well. As for the Jinting Sect, word is they have support from Lingxu and the Eastern and Western Immortal Sects. Their combined strength is formidable.”

Liu Xiaolou had a fairly clear sense of how powerful these sects were. He shook his head. “Qingyu is obviously weaker than Jinting. Why would it even come to the point of open war?”

“That’s exactly why they want Danxia to step in,” Abbot Wu said.

“On Shenwu Mountain, I was only close with Thirteen,” Liu Xiaolou went on. “I didn’t have much contact with the others, and I’ve been in the south these past few years. Do you know what actually started all this?”

“From what I’ve heard,” Abbot Wu replied, “the Qingyu Sect discovered a rare treasure at the bottom of Lake Dongting, but it was seized by Jinting Mountain. Talks went nowhere, so Qingyu decided to gather the sects of Jing-Xiang and confront Jinting, demanding the artifact be returned. Of course, that’s the version Qingyu is spreading. As for Jinting’s side of the story, no one knows yet.”

This really was shocking news. The impact on Jing-Xiang, and even all of Jiangnan and Jiangbei, would be enormous. Liu Xiaolou immediately pressed for details. But Abbot Wu only knew what he’d heard secondhand; the truth of it was still up in the air, with no clear answer yet.

Instead, he turned around and asked for Liu Xiaolou’s opinion. Liu Xiaolou said, “I’m a nobody. Even if I have thoughts on this, the Su family wouldn’t listen to me, so my opinion doesn’t really matter. But if you really want me to say it, I don’t want a war. Back then it was just the Zhanglong Clan fighting Gengsang Cave, and even that was a bloodbath. Countless disciples from the great families and rogue cultivators got dragged in and thrown into that meat grinder. From what you've told me, this time there are more sects involved, and they're all stronger. What kind of hell is this going to turn into? How many people are going to die?"

Abbot Wu nodded along, again and again. “Fellow Daoist, you truly care about the suffering of others. A compassionate heart. You’re absolutely right.”

Right in the middle of their discussion, Lin Twin Fish returned. Abbot Wu had watched her grow up, and she held him in great respect. She bowed deeply and greeted him. “Martial Uncle.”

Abbot Wu smiled. “Twin Fish, you’re back. Fellow Daoist Liu has been waiting for you. All right, you two talk. This old man has some things to take care of first.”

At the stone table beneath the bamboo, only Liu Xiaolou and Lin Twin Fish remained. Seeing her lose her smile, her face full of helplessness, Liu Xiaolou’s heart sank. "It's a no?" he asked.

Lin Twin Fish stared at him, her eyes flickering a little. After hesitating for a moment, she finally let it out, “Let's wait and see what happens on Junior Brother Su's side. There should still be some hope.”

Liu Xiaolou asked, “Your master…”

She sighed. “My master says the sword techniques of our sect can’t be passed on lightly to outsiders.”

Liu Xiaolou grew anxious. “But I’m willing to trade techniques. What I have isn’t mediocre at all. The , the , and the are all things your sect doesn’t have. They could greatly expand and strengthen your foundation of techniques. Especially the . It’s a perfect blend of Badong cultivators’ Gu Path and phantom techniques.”

Lin Twin Fish said, “Xiaolou, don’t rush. Junior Brother Su is still pleading with Martial Uncle Bai. Let’s wait a bit longer for news.”

Liu Xiaolou took a deep breath and said nothing more. He and Lin Twin Fish sat quietly at the stone table and waited. The wine on the table was quickly finished; each drinking on their own, neither saying a word.

They waited all the way until evening before Su Jing finally returned. He had knelt outside Bai Changzhen’s door all afternoon, and he still hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted.

His face was grim. “My master said it clearly. The Yellow Dragon Sword Art is a treasured legacy of the sect and cannot be passed on to outsiders. Years ago, it was nearly stolen, and the sect punished a whole group of people over it.”

Liu Xiaolou’s face darkened.

Su Jing suddenly changed tack. “So...”

“So what?” Liu Xiaolou asked, a little tense, waiting for what came next.

But it was Lin Twin Fish who picked up the thread instead. She frowning in thought. “So... it's getting dark.”