Chapter Forty-Three: An Unexpected Visitor

Yi Qingchen had no idea how she managed to ask the question, but once she received the answer, she fell into utter silence.

Buddha said all living beings are equal; there was never anyone who deserved to die more than another. For fate… is fate, no matter whose it is.

She had never imagined that the Human Sovereign Stone was the product of a union between the Human Sovereign Bird and a female immortal.

Any woman embraced by the Human Sovereign Bird would become pregnant, and after a month, the signs would be clear—no different from a human pregnancy.

But the fetus of the Human Sovereign Bird would be forcibly removed in the fifth month, claiming the mother’s life to nurture the fetal stone. By then, the fetal stone would already house the soul of a child, and with the mother’s life force to nourish it, it would become the Human Sovereign Stone.

The Human Sovereign Stone was the key to prolonging the lives of the Human Sovereign clan. Their descendants were never born as humans, but instead, rare treasures forged through the union of the human race and their own kind.

In a flash, she understood why A-Xiao had insisted they leave. Compared to Huai Yin, she and the other women inside faced annihilation at any moment. With only A-Xiao to protect them, every extra person meant greater danger.

She understood the reasoning, but to act on it was another matter.

“What is it? Still unwilling to leave? Is he that important to you?” A-Xiao lowered her eyes, her hand gently stroking a small shoe.

“Yes… I am unworthy of your kindness, madam. My life is of no consequence, but in the Shuoxing Tower, we have never left a favor unreturned.” Yi Qingchen gathered her thoughts—love could be forsaken, but gratitude must be repaid.

Otherwise, she would have no face to meet the martyrs in the afterlife.

Knowing further persuasion was futile, A-Xiao’s tone turned cold: “Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll not waste my efforts saving you.”

With that, she rose and left the room.

“Thank you, madam, for your understanding,” Yi Qingchen said, rising to see her off.

Once A-Xiao was gone, she quietly returned to her seat. Time ticked by, the room silent except for the sound of their breath.

And while they remained trapped on the Human Sovereign Island, the long-absent Fu Qingfeng appeared at Jiuyao Tower.

A maid hurriedly knocked on Yizhichun’s door, only to find her lying lazily on the bed, two young attendants at her side—one massaging her legs, the other peeling fruit.

“What’s all this fuss about? What sort of manners are those?” Yizhichun sat up, waving the boys away.

The maid stepped forward, opening her hand to reveal a long needle.

Yizhichun instantly straightened her clothes and adjusted her hair. “Where is this person?”

“Waiting downstairs,” replied the maid.

“Go tell them to prepare the best wine and dishes—I’ll greet our honored guest myself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yizhichun paused at the door, turning back to instruct, “Remember, only the very best.”

“I understand, ma’am,” the maid replied with a curtsy.

As she reached the staircase, she saw a tall, elegant figure—none other than the long-unseen Fu Qingfeng.

“Sir, why did you not send word ahead? I would’ve come to welcome you properly,” Yizhichun glided down the stairs and offered a formal bow.

Once the greeting was done, she escorted him to her own quarters.

The girls of the tower, upon seeing Fu Qingfeng, immediately grew restless, but when they noticed Yizhichun herself coming to receive him, all such thoughts vanished. Such a man was not for them.

They returned to their own patrons and resumed their business.

Back in her room, Xiao Yun had already prepared the wine and food and stood respectfully at the door to prevent interruptions.

Yizhichun filled Fu Qingfeng’s cup. “What brings you here, sir?”

Fu Qingfeng raised his cup. “I hoped you might help me inquire about someone.”

“Who?”

“Yun Xingyu.”

“Him?”

“What, is there no news of him?”

“It’s not that—he’s been missing for a long time. Why do you seek him?” Yizhichun filled her own cup and offered a toast.

Fu Qingfeng returned the gesture. “There are some matters I need to confirm with him. If it’s inconvenient for you, I’ll find another way.”

“Not at all. When it comes to gathering information, there’s nowhere better than Jiuyao Tower,” she replied. “But since the death of his wife years ago, Yun Xingyu lost all will to live. It’s said he encountered the Five-Thieves Daoist, who enlightened him and took him in as a disciple. Since then, news of him has been scarce.

“If you wish to seek him, you might try the Hidden Gate—but they’ve been secluded for many years, and their disciples rarely wander the mortal world. Whether you can find him, I cannot guarantee.”

Fu Qingfeng rose, drained his cup, and said, “That is enough. Thank you, madam. I take my leave.”

Yizhichun quickly bowed respectfully. “You once saved me years ago—such a small favor is nothing. Allow me to see you out.”

“Please.”

As they reached the stairs, they ran into Xian Geyue, who looked to be up to something.

Fu Qingfeng frowned and tried to slip past, but Xian Geyue darted forward to block his way.

“Move aside.”

“No,” Xian Geyue retorted. So, Fu Qingfeng, I’ve finally caught you! Always looking so aloof, but in the end, you’re just another man.

Fu Qingfeng had no desire to argue and tried to leave, but Xian Geyue teased, “What, embarrassed to be caught by me? Relax, we’re all men here—I understand.”

With that, he threw an arm around Fu Qingfeng’s neck and patted his chest.

Fu Qingfeng ignored him and asked Yizhichun, “Is he a regular here?”

Leaning against the railing with her embroidered handkerchief, Yizhichun glanced meaningfully at Xian Geyue. “He’s a familiar face, you could say. But this guest here… let’s just say he has a unique taste.”

After all, the second time is always easier than the first.

Realizing things were going awry, Xian Geyue quickly released Fu Qingfeng, straightened his clothes, and said seriously, “This is all a misunderstanding. Let me explain.”

Fu Qingfeng’s gaze darkened, and a gust of energy sent Xian Geyue flying back three steps before he strode away.

“You—!” Xian Geyue glared at Yizhichun, so furious his lungs ached.

He turned to follow, but Yizhichun signaled for her people to stop him, smiling sweetly. “Hold on. You can leave, but the payment stays.”

As if I’d let you ruin the gentleman’s business.

Xian Geyue fumed, pointing at her for a good while before managing to say, “Fine, you want money? However much he gave you, I’ll pay the same.”

“He’s our honored guest—free of charge. You, however, are not.” Yizhichun waggled her finger, nearly making him spit blood.

“Why?”

“Because at Jiuyao Tower, I make the rules.”

“How much then?”

“Not too much, not too little—just this much.” She held up a hand.

Assuming it was the same as last time—fifty taels of gold—Xian Geyue, though fuming, handed over a large gold ingot.

But the staff made no move to let him pass. He finally lost his temper: “What’s the meaning of this?”

Nibbling on the gold, Yizhichun wiped it clean with her handkerchief. “It means you haven’t paid enough.”

“Why not just rob me?” he muttered. He’d only set foot inside once, and she’d already extorted fifty taels—still not enough.

“You’re free not to pay. But when the gentleman is gone, don’t blame me for not warning you.” By now, the gentleman should be long gone.

She would show no mercy now.

Swallowing his urge to use force, Xian Geyue realized that for someone to operate so brazenly in the royal city, Yizhichun herself must be formidable.

If he pushed, he might really lose track of the man.

So he threw down another ten gold ingots. Let greed drown you.

Yizhichun accepted the payment with a smile. “Cultivation is my duty, but money is my hobby. You, you there—let this gentleman pass.”

Her people immediately made way, and Xian Geyue finally escaped.

But once outside, Fu Qingfeng’s aura had almost completely faded.

No matter—Xian Geyue had his ways.

He’d barely gone a few miles before Qin Mo caught up. “Master, the old man is looking for you.”

“Let him amuse himself—I have things to do.”

“That won’t do. The old man says if I don’t bring you back, I might as well lose my head.”

“Then let him chop it off,” he said, hurrying on.

Qin Mo was speechless but followed anyway—better that than facing decapitation at home.

“Why are you following me?” Xian Geyue demanded.

“Some of the brothers took a big job, but this time it seems the target’s tough. Two have already died. Should we keep going?” Qin Mo asked.

“If they weren’t strong enough, they deserved to die. If you can’t finish the job, don’t take it. But once you do, you must see it through. Even assassins must have credibility.”

“Understood. I’ll let them know.”

Joking aside, once you take the money, you must do the job. Refunds? Not a chance.

Qin Mo never understood why, even after becoming immortals, everyone still loved money like commoners.

Someone once explained, “Cultivation is dull work. In endless years, you have to find something to occupy yourself.”

After that, he never asked again.

An hour outside the royal city, Xian Geyue finally spotted that familiar figure.

With a leap and a few flips, he landed in front of Fu Qingfeng, grinning. “Go on, run. I want to see how far you think you can get.”

“Move aside,” Fu Qingfeng repeated.

Xian Geyue bristled. “Not a chance. What will you do about it?” He couldn’t understand how this man could be so stubborn—a real mule, ungrateful too.

Fu Qingfeng tried to walk past him, but Xian Geyue gave chase. Suddenly, Fu Qingfeng spun around and struck with his palm. The force sent Xian Geyue flying like a broken kite.

Qin Mo caught his falling master and prepared to retaliate, but Xian Geyue stopped him. “Enough.”

“Master?” Why not let me at him?

Xian Geyue couldn’t be bothered to explain. He’d never gotten the upper hand with Fu Qingfeng—if Qin Mo tried, it would be suicide.

But suddenly, he felt a surge of energy rising uncontrollably.

Qin Mo was startled. “Master?”

Then Xian Geyue coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Both men were stunned—even Xian Geyue wondered if he was dreaming. He looked up at the thin new moon above, the chilly wind biting—this wasn’t right.

Most of all, what were these disgusting things inside him? Who would explain that?

Fu Qingfeng’s face was expressionless. “On the brink of death, and you still have time for debauchery. Your tastes are truly unusual.”

“What do you mean?” Xian Geyue demanded. “What’s all this about dying and debauchery? I didn’t want these cursed things in me.” Who would stash a bunch of black, wriggling worms inside their own body? Just thinking about coughing them up made his skin crawl.

After a brief reflection, realization dawned.

Damn it—he’d always been the one to con others, but this time he’d fallen into a woman’s trap.

“Qin Mo, investigate that woman’s background. She dares to toy with me—she must be tired of living.”

“Which woman?”

Xian Geyue smacked him on the head. “Who else? Since when has a woman gotten the better of me? Do I need to spell it out?”

Qin Mo finally caught on and nodded. “Understood. I’ll get right on it.”

Once Qin Mo left, Xian Geyue rubbed his sore head, grimacing. “Damn it, can’t you be a little gentler?”

When he looked up again, Fu Qingfeng had vanished. Searching the area, he found only a porcelain bottle lying in the grass.

He picked it up, wiped it off on his sleeve, opened it, and swallowed a pill.

Instantly, he felt a soothing comfort spread through his body. He grinned. “So you’re not completely heartless after all.”

Still, he would not let anyone who dared harm him get away with it.