55. Striking Up a Conversation

The two enjoyed the delicacies laid out on the table as dusk slowly descended outside.

After a while, footsteps echoed from beyond the door, and a group of young men dressed as cultivators strode in, calling out, “Innkeeper! Bring us your best wine and dishes, and prepare four top rooms with hot water, quickly now, understood?”

There were five in total: two men, one woman, and an elderly man. The speaker was one of the men, bearing the airs of a scion from a noble house, his tone brash and arrogant.

The other man and the woman were aloof, exuding an aura of detachment, as though indifferent to the masses—their gaze loftier than the speaker’s.

The old man was far more discreet, his eyelids half-lowered, silent, with the demeanor of a seasoned traveler.

The innkeeper, an ordinary townsman, saw the newcomers—each with the proud bearing of aristocrats, brows sharp and overbearing. Knowing they were not to be trifled with, he hurriedly nodded and instructed his staff to see to their requests.

The four chose the largest table, which happened to be right next to Li Miao’s.

The young nobleman walked past Xiaoyun, his eyes brazenly lingering on her, a greedy expression flickering across his face.

Though the young demon girl’s figure had not yet matured, her beauty was already exceptional. The feathers on her arms, not fully transformed, were hidden by her clothes and only faintly noticeable, making it seem as though she wore a snowy dress adorned with plumage, adding a touch of elegance.

To the common folk, she was a rare and exquisite beauty.

Li Miao observed all this in silence, not revealing his thoughts, quietly savoring his meal, curious to see what antics might unfold.

The four’s cultivation was not particularly impressive: one at the eighth stage of Qi Refinement, two at the ninth. The old man was a bit stronger, at the early stage of Condensing Truth, but altogether, none could withstand even a finger from Li Miao.

Once seated, the young nobleman declared, “We’ve returned from hunting monsters at the outskirts of the Blood Mist Mountains, earning considerable merit. When we report to the dean, we might have a chance to enter the Inner Court of the Yellow Court Academy.”

The other man, his expression icy, replied, “The Inner Court isn’t so easy to enter. Though we’re ranked among the top ten of the Outer Court, mere monster-hunting merit isn’t enough to qualify for the Inner Court. Unless one reaches the Condensing Truth realm before the age of twenty, it’s all just idle chatter.”

Li Miao had heard of the Yellow Court Academy.

It was a powerful force in Pangshan City. Though called an academy, it was not a place for learning letters, but a sanctuary for cultivating the Dao.

Many reclusive experts resided there. Rumor had it the strongest had reached the Profound Comprehension realm, with dozens at Return to Origin—a level rivaling the city’s four great clans.

Yet the academy was somewhat different from the sects, which emphasized the master-disciple tradition and strong belonging. Masters would impart all their skills to their disciples.

The academy, however, was much freer, not restricting its students’ comings and goings. It accepted disciples from other major sects, as long as tuition in spirit stones was paid.

The Inner Court’s requirements were stricter—higher tuition and talent thresholds. If one’s aptitude was lacking, no amount of spirit stones would suffice; they feared admitting dullards who might tarnish their reputation.

Of course, the prestige brought its benefits. Those trained in the Inner Court were, even if not mighty overlords, always among the elite of their peers, able to face many at once.

It seemed these three young people were Outer Court disciples of the Yellow Court Academy.

The nobleman, somewhat disgruntled at the other’s words, pouted, “Brother He, I know the Inner Court is hard to enter, but you don’t need to discourage me. We worked hard slaying monsters for glory and reward. Even if we can't get into the Inner Court, we’ll at least earn some spirit stones and pills, enough for a night’s revelry in Hundred Flowers Lane. Tsk tsk, I hear Purple Mist House in the lane has some new girls—barely fifteen or sixteen, all lovely and charming. I’d love to…”

Bang.

The woman slammed the table, her face angry, voice cold: “Zhu Zifeng, your ignorance and base desires are your own—don’t drag others in.”

By “others,” she clearly meant “Brother He,” He Xianyuan.

Zhu Zifeng, seeing her defense of He Xianyuan, grew even more irate. He sneered, “How noble. Love and desire are human nature; no one is exempt. So it’s fine for you and Brother He to have secret liaisons, but I can’t enjoy myself?”

“You—!”

Yu Ruofei rose, slamming the table into pieces with her palm. Furious, she pointed at Zhu Zifeng: “You dare slander the purity between Brother He and me, I’ll—hm, cough…”

Before she could finish, her face paled and blood crept from her lips.

Clearly, her injuries had not healed, and her anger had caused her qi to surge, worsening her condition.

He Xianyuan hurried to support her, helping her to another table.

Zhu Zifeng watched with a cold smile. “Struck a nerve, did I? I’ve seen through your little affair. Yu Ruofei, you still want to lecture me? If not for my old servant Zhu Ke aiding you, you’d have been eaten by monsters long ago, nothing left but waste in the Blood Mist Mountains.”

Yu Ruofei grew even more agitated, her face alternating red and pale, eyes blazing with fury, coughing up more blood.

He Xianyuan, channeling true qi to help her recover, glared at Zhu Zifeng, “Junior Brother Zhu, don’t go too far!” As he spoke, the aura of a peak Qi Refinement cultivator stirred the air, raising a wind indoors.

The other guests in the inn were startled, abandoning their meals and fleeing, fearing a fight and being caught in the crossfire.

At He Xianyuan’s release of his aura, the Condensing Truth old servant, Zhu Ke, stepped forward, blocking Zhu Zifeng, his aged eyes opening slightly.

If anyone attacked, he would stop them at once, protecting his young master.

With Zhu Ke backing him, Zhu Zifeng was bold, unafraid of He Xianyuan and Yu Ruofei.

Still, he didn’t intend to break with them completely. He snorted, “For the sake of our academy fellowship, I won’t hold it against you.” He then walked over to Li Miao’s table and sat down.

“You two, I won’t get along with those companions. Mind if I share your table?” asked Zhu Zifeng.

Li Miao raised his brows.

He had been enjoying the spectacle; now, unexpectedly, the protagonist had sat right beside him, seemingly intent on making conversation.

He frowned, “Stop making a scene—I don’t want to be your actor. There are plenty of tables; go find somewhere else.”

Li Miao saw through Zhu Zifeng’s intentions.

He was the scion of a wealthy family, with a Condensing Truth servant in tow. His reason for sharing a table was simply to flaunt his wealth, hoping for flattery from Li Miao and Xiaoyun, and to irritate He Xianyuan and Yu Ruofei.

But unfortunately, he had picked the wrong person.

Li Miao’s words gave him no face at all, dismissing him as one might shoo a fly.

Zhu Zifeng’s expression darkened. He stared at Li Miao, “Do you know who you’re addressing? I am the young master of the Phantom Sword Pavilion. Sharing a table with me is a blessing you’ve earned over three lifetimes.”

“Phantom Sword Pavilion? What sect is that? I’ve never heard of it,” Li Miao said, puzzled.

He was familiar with most major sects in Pangshan County, especially those with Profound Comprehension experts or numerous Return to Origin cultivators. None would be unfamiliar to him.

But this Phantom Sword Pavilion was entirely unknown.

“You—!”

A shadow of malice crossed Zhu Zifeng’s eyes.

The old servant Zhu Ke sensed the situation, stepped up beside Li Miao, and spoke in a hoarse, deep voice, “It seems you’re a stranger here, unfamiliar with local customs. Though our Phantom Sword Pavilion isn’t as grand as the four great families or the Yellow Court Academy, it is one of the leading sects in Pangshan City, with four Return to Origin experts. Even the city lord shows respect. You’d best apologize to my young master now, or…hmph, you’ll find no place for yourself in Pangshan City.” His tone was full of threat.

“An apology alone won’t suffice,” Zhu Zifeng said fiercely, his gaze fixed on the timid Xiaoyun in white, a wicked grin on his face. “You must hand over this girl for my pleasure for seven days to quell my anger.”

He had plotted this from the moment he first saw Xiaoyun.

His quarrel with He Xianyuan and Yu Ruofei was merely to flaunt his own background.

Their cultivation was insufficient to discern Li Miao and Xiaoyun’s true strength; they assumed the two were mere mortals, merchants to be bullied by cultivators.

Little did they know that the delicate girl before them was in fact a mid-stage Return to Origin demon, and Li Miao himself was an anomaly who had recently slain two great monsters and a host of lesser ones with mid-stage Condensing Truth cultivation.

The inn fell silent.

Li Miao tapped his forehead, troubled.

Not out of fear toward Phantom Sword Pavilion.

Four Return to Origin cultivators were formidable, but merely troublesome for him, who had just destroyed the Cold Pool demon nest.

The main issue was the weakness of his opponents—fighting them would only diminish his own reputation.

But since they had pressed him, he had to respond.

“Xiaoyun, they want to play with you. Deal with it as you wish,” Li Miao said, kicking the matter to the demon girl.

After all, Zhu Zifeng’s target was Xiaoyun, not himself. Xiaoyun was a mid-stage Return to Origin demon, more than capable of handling these two. Li Miao could just sit back and watch.

Zhu Zifeng, unaware of Li Miao’s thoughts, believed he had submitted out of fear. He leered at Xiaoyun, “Heh heh, little girl, looks like your friend doesn’t want you. Come with me, I’ll show you the pleasures of the world~”

As he reached for Xiaoyun’s fair hand, his grasp found only empty air.

The seemingly harmless demon girl darted away, hiding behind Li Miao, frowning, “I don’t want to play with them. Master, let’s go—these people mean no good.”

Her movement was swift—almost faster than the blink of an eye. Only Li Miao could see it clearly.

Zhu Zifeng, surprised at missing, grew dissatisfied upon hearing Xiaoyun’s words.

He ordered his servant, “Zhu Ke, seize her for me!”

The old man seemed to sense something amiss and hesitated, unwilling to act rashly.

Zhu Zifeng pressed, “What are you waiting for? Grab her!”

“Yes, young master.” The old man finally activated his power, his right hand forming a claw, reaching for Xiaoyun.

Zhu Ke, with early Condensing Truth cultivation, could be considered an expert. His technique was seasoned, evidently practiced often, adept at capturing people.

Xiaoyun, though possessing great cultivation, had no idea how to fight. She retreated in panic, calling out, “Ah, this old man is up to no good, Master, save me~” She fled awkwardly, showing not a trace of a great demon’s dignity.

Li Miao was dumbfounded.

She was a Return to Origin demon, yet so helpless?

Earlier, she had knelt in fear before his overwhelming aura, which was understandable given their disparity.

But now, the old man’s cultivation was a whole realm below hers, his fighting technique merely average, yet she still lacked the courage to resist, knowing only to run—embarrassing for a demon of her status.

As Zhu Ke chased after Xiaoyun, Li Miao sighed helplessly, “Fine, I’ll handle it.”

He set down his wine bowl, reached out with his right hand, and grabbed.

Zhu Ke, just about to pursue Xiaoyun, found his withered hand frozen in mid-air, his wrist firmly held.

Li Miao moved so quickly that no one saw the action—he had subdued Zhu Ke in an instant.

With a slight squeeze, his immense strength pinned the old man, and the aura of a mid-stage Condensing Truth cultivator radiated outward, pressing down on everyone present.

“You, you are—”

Zhu Ke was terrified.

He tried to break free, but his wrist felt as if crushed by an elephant—no matter how he struggled, it didn’t budge.

Sensing Li Miao’s overpowering energy, he realized he had kicked the hornet’s nest. He hurriedly cried, “Fellow Daoist, it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!” His aged face was etched with terror.

Zhu Zifeng, He Xianyuan, and Yu Ruofei were likewise shaken by the aura. They stared wide-eyed at Li Miao’s youthful face, unable to recover.

All three were among the Yellow Court Academy’s top ten Outer Court disciples, with a good chance of entering the Inner Court and receiving guidance from the elders.

Yet in front of Li Miao, they realized how laughable their pride was.

The young man before them, barely older than themselves, had already crossed the threshold of Condensing Truth, reaching mid-stage—a feat even many Inner Court disciples could not claim. Within the Yellow Court Inner Court, those more gifted than him could be counted on one hand.

Under their astonished gaze, Li Miao said calmly, “A misunderstanding? Weren’t you just so bold? What happened to that?”

“This, this…”