Chapter 3: Willing to Serve

Everyone knew that behind the imperial edict of Emperor Xu, there must be some extraordinary secret; otherwise, there would be no reason to prevent anyone from ascending the mountain to seek out immortals.

But what was that secret?

It could be imagined that all the powers had already begun to stir. Gu Yi had enjoyed tranquility so far, perhaps because Hexian was uninvolved in such matters.

She was merely a ‘fan’ after all.

The sense of unease in the air was not directed at them, for not far away flames and chaos had already erupted.

“It feels like it’s not here... I suppose we’re lucky,” Gu Yi said.

Indeed, their luck was good.

But screams rang out, causing Chen Bo’s brows to furrow.

“Are you going to save them?”

He almost forgot this man's temperament.

Caught in a dilemma, the middle-aged man finally made up his mind. He cupped his hands toward the carriage.

“Master Gu, please wait here; I’ll return shortly.”

It was, perhaps, fate dictated by character. On the day they first met, others had seen Gu Yi lying on the ground, but it was they who saved him.

It was not entirely a coincidence.

“Chen Bo, our duty is to protect the lady; what happens over there is none of our business!” The young attendant who lent Gu Yi his sword urged anxiously behind the middle-aged man.

“I know, so I’ll go alone. No one else moves.”

Alone? Gu Yi sighed.

He then stepped forward, drawing the attendant’s sword, and asked in bewilderment, “Brother, how did someone like you survive to be over forty in a world like this?”

“What are you doing?” Chen Bo stared in shock at the youth’s back.

Gu Yi walked ahead. “I’ve heard people say that those who like to help others don’t expect rewards, but simply hope those they've aided will help those in need.”

Who knew where he picked up such words, but they seemed to make sense. This youth was lazy and rude, but in some ways, he matched Chen Bo’s nature.

Chen Bo regretted only that fate should not have made him an Outlander.

Gu Yi had never aspired to be a hero; he only wished to leave Xiaoyuan Mountain safely. If others came to harm, so be it—every moment, someone somewhere met with misfortune.

But the middle-aged man’s persistence moved him.

Besides, Hexian was unlikely to be in danger; their troupe was merely passing through, tourists at most, and at a time when everyone was busy, no one would bother with them.

From the youth’s gaze, Chen Bo saw resolve.

“Let’s hold our breath and move forward, assess the situation first.”

Gu Yi replied, “All the cultivators are yours.”

“Of course.” He agreed cheerfully, then with a swift motion, leapt onto the high branches of a giant tree.

Gu Yi: “...”

As if remembering something, Chen Bo dropped back down. “Let’s... walk over.”

The forest’s darkness was deeper than imagined. Martial artists relied on sharp senses to avoid obstacles. Occasionally, foraging animals only realized how close they were to humans at the last moment, dropping their food in panic and fleeing.

As they drew nearer, the sounds of fierce fighting grew louder, occasional bursts of light signaling powerful force—there were indeed cultivators ahead.

Chen Bo cautioned, “The Imperial Guard is on the mountain, so the attackers must be swift and decisive, their assault fierce. Be careful.”

Gu Yi understood. “If I can’t win, I’ll run.”

Chen Bo: “...”

Close now, Chen Bo crouched in the shrubbery to observe the camp.

Corpses already lay strewn across the ground.

Seven or eight masked men besieged a carriage. The warriors beside it fought desperately, while a fat, richly dressed man trembled atop the carriage, frantically urging his attendants to charge forward.

Chen Bo assumed Gu Yi was beside him, but to his surprise, the youth had vanished, striding directly toward the chaos, sword in hand.

What was he doing?

“Gu Yi, Gu Yi!” Chen Bo whispered urgently.

Gu Yi moved forward. Seeing one warrior about to be stabbed, he swung his sword; a dagger embedded in a corpse flew straight at the black-clad assailant, forcing him to halt and somersault backward.

With a thud, the dagger lodged in a tree, shaking down a shower of leaves.

That force could be lethal.

The black-clad attacker broke out in a cold sweat—such a deadly strike in the darkness! This was no ordinary youth.

“Who goes there?!”

The fat, lavishly dressed man saw his savior and cried out, voice trembling with tears, “Hero, save me! These villains mean to rob and kill! Please, hero, help me!”

The bandit leader sized up Gu Yi and shouted, “Hmph! Meddlesome fool—how can there still be idiots like you in this world? Mind your own business and get lost!”

---

Gu Yi addressed Chen Bo behind him, “Actually, he’s right—and it’s the same thing I’d say to you. Your choice isn’t very wise.”

“But you still came,” Chen Bo observed, “That cultivator at the meditation stage is mine; the rest are yours.”

“All mine,” Gu Yi stepped forward, “You’re too old; a muscle injury takes a hundred days to heal.”

Chen Bo: ???

To him, Gu Yi was a strange youth encountered by chance, strange because he literally fell from the sky—and stranger still, survived the fall.

“When there’s no tiger in the mountain, the monkey becomes king.”

The youth deliberately walked into the circle of seven or eight assailants, utterly unperturbed. “Xiaoyuan Mountain’s situation is unstable—and you mountain bumpkins couldn’t resist, huh?”

“Brother,” the leader with a handlebar mustache said, “This merchant is no good man; he’s seized many young women as concubines, but can’t produce a son—he’s being punished by Heaven. Why not join us in teaching him a lesson?”

The fat merchant nearly wet himself, shouting, “Hero! Hero! I know I was wrong, so I’m here to seek the immortals and pray for a son—I swear I’ll never do anything so wicked again!”

“Seeking immortals for a son?!” Gu Yi nearly thought he misheard. “You can’t have a son, and you come to me... to the immortals of Xiaoyuan Mountain for help?!”

“Why not? It’s just asking for a blessing,” the merchant protested.

“Nonsense—I don’t have a son myself.” Gu Yi felt inexplicably uneasy, then gestured to the encircling men, “Let’s fight.”

There were seven in total, only one a cultivator at the meditation stage.

Chen Bo was always ready to intervene, for he believed Gu Yi was no cultivator.

Yet, a person who fell from the sky and survived must have an unusual body.

Gu Yi closed his eyes, spun, and leapt; the incoming blades could not touch him, while his own swordplay was simple but guarded him well.

Chen Bo understood—perhaps this youth was no cultivator, but he possessed excellent swordsmanship.

And, for reasons unknown, his movements were exceptionally swift.

Gu Yi would not slaughter tonight, though he could have; the warriors’ swords seemed slow and weak to him, and in a flash, he knocked them all to the ground.

The handlebar-mustached cultivator frowned, then wielded his sword with spiritual energy.

Cultivators fought differently from ordinary folk: their swords moved with their will, surrounded by yellow sword-light, and laymen could hardly tell how opponents were struck or lifted, as if it were magic.

Seeing this, Gu Yi twisted his wrist; the sword let out a mournful hum, its blade glowing white. At that moment, the world, the trees, the grass—everything seemed to awaken, and scattered points of spiritual light gathered as if summoned.

The difference was:

The mustached cultivator’s spiritual energy radiated outward.

Gu Yi’s gathered inward.

It was an unusual sight.

Even Chen Bo was shocked: this youth had no cultivation!

The mustached cultivator was baffled, “What technique is this?!”

“Villains die of talking too much—don’t try to trick me into saying more!”

Gu Yi swung his sword; visible spiritual energy followed its motion, swift and powerful, and as he lunged forward, there was a flash of white!

Bang!

The mustache’s sword

Fell to the ground.

One strike—enough.

Gu Yi did not kill him, but terrified him; a hair’s breadth more and he would have died.

Those previously knocked down trembled and scrambled away as the mustached man shouted, “Run!”

“So this is your idea of robbery,” Gu Yi scoffed, tossing his sword, which spun through the air and landed neatly in Chen Bo’s raised hand.

“Brother Gu, excellent swordplay—but the opponents are too weak to see it all.”

“I’m not greedy; let’s go,” Gu Yi laughed.

“Immortal! Immortal!” The fat merchant, shaken by the display, hurried over to thank him, “Thank you, Immortal, for saving my life! Chen is deeply grateful!”

“We merely acted as we ought,” Chen Bo helped him up, “It’s only right to help others...”

“Hey, hey,” Gu Yi, puzzled, pulled Chen Bo aside, “I did all the work—and didn’t you hear them say this guy kidnaps girls for sons?”

Chen Bo smiled awkwardly, “Those were bandits; their words can’t be trusted.”

“Indeed! Indeed! Immortal, I would never seize women—those I married are all true love!” The merchant, sharp in reading faces, quickly added, “If the Immortal has any requests, I’ll do my utmost.”

Chen Bo waved his hands, “No need, no need; that’s too much.”

Gu Yi disagreed, taking the purse without shame, “I’m alone, traveling, short on money. Even immortals need funds.”

“Ah, easily done!” The merchant beamed, waddled back to his carriage, and returned with a brocade pouch, placing it in Gu Yi’s hands, “Some gold, a token of gratitude—thank you for saving my life!”

“Hey!” Chen Bo, unable to bear it, reached out to stop him.

---

The scene looked as if three people were stacking hands to shout encouragement.

Gu Yi ignored them, slipped free, and hung the pouch at his waist. “Hey, what ‘hey’? If I don’t earn, will you feed me?”

Otherwise, what was the point of such dull fighting?

There were always cultivators for hire, and if common folk suffered from monsters, they needed to gather money for help—one couldn’t always expect saints to come to the rescue.

“Brother Gu... but surely you shouldn’t take so much gold?”

“That’s wrong—my life may not be worth much to the gentleman, but to me, it’s priceless. Shame I didn’t bring more; otherwise, I’d thank you even heavier.”

Gu Yi laughed heartily, “I’m not greedy; let’s go.”

“Brother Gu!” Chen Bo kept complaining.

But they hadn’t gone far,

A beggar-like figure at the merchant’s camp edge followed them. She wore grey homespun, broken shoes, freckles—a woman, staring fixedly at Gu Yi.

“Well, men do change when they get rich, huh? What do you want?”

She stepped before Gu Yi and knelt, bowing, “Willing to serve! Please take me in!”

Gu Yi replied, “I have no home myself—can’t take you in.”

The woman didn’t react and kept her head down.

Gu Yi ignored her; why take in a stranger? It was absurd.

Chen Bo was confused, “What’s going on?”

But being kind-hearted, he asked, “Miss, why do you bow to him?”

She didn’t speak.

...

...

Chen Bo explained their departure to the carriage’s occupants. Gu Yi leaned against a tree to rest.

But now their group had gained another—a woman who had knelt before Gu Yi without a word. She did not leave, but followed, as if invisible to Gu Yi.

When dawn broke, Hexian grew curious about this refugee-like woman. On closer look, found her unattractive, sallow-skinned, cheeks smudged with dirt, hair unwashed and matted, covering her right eye.

Yet for some reason, she was deeply respectful toward Gu Yi. In the morning, as everyone slept and Gu Yi had just awoken, she presented him with cooked fish wrapped in leaves.

“You want to follow him?” Hexian asked.

The woman glanced at Gu Yi and nodded quickly.

“Why?”

She didn’t reply, but bowed again.

“What’s your name?”

Still no answer.

Gu Yi said, “Leave her be; let’s move on. Last night proves Xiaoyuan Mountain is losing control.”

Everyone knew many nobles liked to visit Xiaoyuan Mountain. Now that trouble had arisen, even petty thieves were coming out to fish in troubled waters—let alone others.

Hexian looked at Gu Yi in puzzlement—how had he returned with such a strange woman?

“You seem to be hiding a lot of secrets.” The young lady tapped her chin, as though trying to see through Gu Yi.

Not just her; others watched Gu Yi with curious eyes. The attendants, unlike Hexian, merely thought Gu Yi was crazy—who falls from the sky?

And the ugly girl who followed him must not be normal either; every morning, she knelt, never moving.

Hexian was kind-hearted. “Master Gu, perhaps you could tell her to get up—she won’t listen to us.”

“Master Gu!” Hexian called after him.

Gu Yi turned around and explained, “First, I didn’t ask her to kneel. And, nothing in this world is given for nothing—her actions must be driven by some request. If she’s not resentful, she knows it’s an unreasonable request. If so, there’s no need to listen.”

He disliked such people; only anime protagonists could suffer without turning bitter.

“But how do you know?” Hexian asked, doubtful.

“When you’ve seen enough, you know.” Gu Yi shrugged.

The woman buried her head deeper, as if confirming it.

Yet she did not leave, and followed the carriage all the way down the mountain.