Chapter 44: Striking Back Against the Pursuer

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Lin Yang emerged from the Ghost Market, retracing his steps through the familiar tunnel and returning to the dilapidated house from before. He soon realized someone was following him, trailing at a distance. Though the pursuer acted with great subtlety, Lin Yang still detected their presence.

“That’s strange. I don’t have any marks on me that could be tracked,” he mused, unable to fathom why he was being tailed. Deciding not to dwell on it, he surrounded the tunnel entrance with Fireball and Explosion Talismans, intending to blow the pursuer to pieces.

He sent out his puppet, dressed in his own robe, to walk ahead, quickening its pace. The pursuer in the tunnel also hastened his steps. As the pursuer emerged from the tunnel, Lin Yang detonated the talismans. The pursuer was instantly blasted within an inch of his life, and the force of the explosion sent the small house soaring, a mushroom cloud rising thirty feet into the air. Fearing the commotion would attract other cultivators, Lin Yang swiftly dragged away the mutilated pursuer.

He fled the city, running until he reached a desolate wilderness. With only a sliver of life left in the stalker, Lin Yang ended him with a slap, then extracted his broken soul.

“Who are you? Speak, or I’ll make you wish for death,” Lin Yang threatened, burning the soul with flames.

“I won’t tell you anything. You’re dead anyway—my comrades will catch up to you soon!” the dying soul raged defiantly.

“You’ve been steeped in the incense of the Treasure Pavilion’s private suite for so long, you’re marked through and through. There’s no escape for you. Let me go, and I’ll spare your life—after all, I’m from the Treasure Pavilion.” The stalker tried to intimidate Lin Yang with his affiliation, but Lin Yang knew well enough to eliminate the problem at its root.

After learning how he’d been marked, Lin Yang shattered the remnant soul with a palm strike. He left his puppet behind, rigged with an explosive formation and a trap array, spending half an hour on the setup.

A quarter hour later, five white dots appeared on the horizon—several Foundation Establishment cultivators from Yuanwu City flew over, surrounding the puppet while Lin Yang hid in the shadows.

The leader, in the late stage of Foundation Establishment, looked at his slain comrade. “Who are you, and why did you attack Daoist Tian?”

“What a hypocrite—if you want to fight, then fight,” the puppet rasped.

“You brought this on yourself,” the leader said, signaling to his companions. The four other cultivators attacked, spells and weapons battering the puppet. As they shattered its black robe, the metallic body was exposed, glowing with red runes.

“Retreat!” the leader shouted, but it was too late. A violent explosion incapacitated them, and Lin Yang seized the opportunity, cutting down all four with his flying blades.

As Lin Yang struck down the four, the leader realized the danger and fled toward Yuanwu City.

Lin Yang collected all the storage pouches from the corpses, scoured the area of any trace of battle, and left the Yuanwu Kingdom behind.

At that moment, Lin Yang sensed a warm pulse from the fragment he carried. He felt his aptitude improve slightly, but his mind was simultaneously flooded with a bloodthirsty urge, voices within clamoring for slaughter.

Forcing himself to focus, Lin Yang circulated his cultivation technique, instantly wiping away all negative thoughts. Still, he was alarmed—this thing could not be used recklessly.

He returned to Yue Kingdom, to the region controlled by Yellow Maple Valley, and sent word of his return to Ancestor Linghu via transmission talisman.

He had only been away five or six days, yet so much had happened—it was as if he were a magnet for trouble.

Back in Purple Gold Town, the setting sun cast its golden light on the small town, making the red glazed tiles glow resplendently.

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Trees basked in the day’s last rays. Outside the houses lining the road, villagers who had just finished their day’s work sat chatting—these were the freelance cultivators.

Arriving home, Lin Yang saw Ting’er at the door and ran over to scoop her into his arms.

“Oh!”

“Put me down.”

Ignoring her protests, Lin Yang carried Yun Ting straight into Wang Ling’er’s room.

“Ling’er! Ling’er!”

“I’m here, husband,” Wang Ling’er answered, approaching in her apron and taking the dishes from his hands.

“My dear Ling’er, didn’t I say you should hire a few maids?”

“How could I bear to spend the money? All you need to do is take care of yourself and the baby,” she replied.

“It’s not so tiring—just a way to pass the time,” Ling’er said.

Lin Yang set Yun Ting down and began chatting with the two women in the courtyard.

……

The next morning, Lin Yang awoke, careful not to disturb his two wives. Dressing quietly, he headed to his cultivation room to train.

After completing one cycle of his technique, he was just finishing when Wang Ling’er knocked on the door, calling him to breakfast.

After sharing breakfast with the two women, they each returned to their own cultivation rooms.

At that moment, Jiang Chen arrived at the door.

Lin Yang looked at him curiously. “Xiao Chen, what brings you here?”

“Well, I’ve taken a liking to a girl, and we’ve already spoken about it. I want my master to propose on my behalf,” Jiang Chen admitted, a little embarrassed.

“That’s as it should be. Which family is she from?” Lin Yang was quite intrigued—he wondered who could have won Jiang Chen’s heart.

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“She’s the deputy mayor’s daughter,” Jiang Chen replied, a little sheepish.

“Oh, Mo Yang’s daughter. What’s her name?”

“Mo Yu.”

“Wait for me then—tomorrow I’ll find a matchmaker to propose for you.”

“Thank you, Master, I’ll go prepare.” Overjoyed, Jiang Chen hurried back to his room, packed his things, and told his mother the good news.

……

The next day, Lin Yang strolled idly through the bustling streets, his steps light. The brilliant sunlight poured over green-tiled roofs and red walls, banners and merchant signs flying from high eaves. Lin Yang glanced at the nervous Jiang Chen behind him.

“Funny how you weren’t nervous when you were courting her,” he teased, then looked at the fourteen-year-old Jiang Chen and felt a pang of guilt—it felt almost criminal. Perhaps the deep-rooted influence of underage protection from his past life had left its mark.

Many of Lin Yang’s habits still reflected his former life—for instance, he felt distinctly uncomfortable without chili peppers.

“What do you mean, ‘courting’? Master, Mo Yu and I are truly in love,” Jiang Chen protested.

“It’s all the same. That girl has well and truly fallen for you. You’d better treat her well—if you ever abandon her, it won’t just be me, your mother will break your legs,” Lin Yang warned.

They soon arrived at the most famous matchmaker’s house in Purple Gold Town—Madam Li. Lin Yang knocked at the door, bearing a chest of gifts.

“Who is it?” came a man’s voice from inside. The door opened to reveal a scruffy, bearded man who looked every bit a ruffian. As rumor had it, while Madam Li was busy arranging matches for others, her own son was notorious for his unruly ways—so much so that people kept a respectful distance.

Now in his twenties and still unmarried—a rare thing in these times—Madam Li’s son was a constant source of worry. Everyone in town knew his reputation; it was nearly impossible for him to find a match.

“Mother, the mayor’s household is here!” The scruffy man was visibly shocked to see Lin Yang, whose authority in the town was absolute—he was, after all, their mysterious, unapproachable local Foundation Establishment cultivator.

……