Chapter 113: The Immortals Lack Benevolence; It Is Only Right to Slay Them
The wine vessel was made of celadon porcelain, filled with peach blossom wine. It was the first gift the master had given to his disciple, a token that Su Fan treasured deeply.
Su Fan calmly finished the wine in the vessel and suddenly burst into laughter. “What use do you have for all these things? The Tianyuan Sect’s power has already waned. I fear even some of the stronger minor sects could band together and take it down now.”
The elderly man in purple robes also smiled, but there was an indescribable bitterness in his expression. He said slowly, “There are some things you will never understand.”
Su Fan was provoked by this remark. “If you don’t tell me, how could I possibly understand?”
The purple-robed elder still smiled faintly. “I cannot say.”
Su Fan was left speechless. He looked coldly at the elder and said harshly, “Could it be that your claim about Ziyun was also a lie?”
At the mention of Ziyun, the nameless one was taken aback. He glanced silently at the purple-robed elder, for he had thought that was the very reason the elder would aid him. Now, Su Fan’s question piqued his curiosity.
The elder pondered for a moment, then replied with a faint smile, “No, that’s not the case.”
The nameless one could no longer remain silent. He hurriedly said, “Such a calm and justified answer… it must be true. But I want to know—”
“Drunken Immortal also wants to know, but I won’t say,” the purple-robed elder interrupted hastily.
With that, the nameless one could no longer press the matter. After all, the elder had helped him avenge a great grievance; it would be improper to pry further into his secrets.
Everyone has secrets they dare not reveal. You might think that speaking out would solve problems, but for those who harbor secrets, the pain of exposure is unbearable. The troubles solved by disclosure are trivial compared to the agony it brings.
Su Fan did not press further, for the elder had already departed.
Watching the purple figure fade into the distance—so familiar, yet so strange—it was like the pink silhouette he had seen years ago on Little Snow Mountain.
Su Fan sighed deeply. “Since it has come to this, let us all go.”
The nameless one smiled faintly at Su Fan and said, “Thank you.”
Su Fan forced a bitter smile. “I should be the one thanking you. When I was in Luo City, you valued me so highly. It’s a pity I cannot devote myself to anyone.”
The nameless one put away his magical treasure and said, “Today I finally understand how laughable I was. I thought with my abilities, I could surely cultivate you into someone useful.”
Lin Xiaofeng suddenly chimed in, “Yet you found he turned out far stronger than you.”
As he spoke, Lin Xiaofeng’s face was filled with innocence, as if he too had suffered from this outcome.
Su Fan hastily said, “Don’t speak recklessly. Nameless is a senior and a genius—how could a mere runt like me compare?”
The nameless one laughed heartily. “Indeed. I believe the purple-robed friend has also noticed this. If I’m not mistaken, that dark cultivation method of yours should be a form of Daoist magic.”
After that terrifying ordeal, the mere mention of darkness still left Su Fan trembling. The overwhelming, almost divine pressure had nearly destroyed him.
He did not understand why that cultivation method had not shown such power within the Rainbow Pavilion, nor why he had never unleashed it before.
Why was it only after the Red-Robed Elder displayed the seven-colored light that he could manifest it? Could there be some connection? What was the true origin of the Rainbow Pavilion?
Su Fan was unwilling to speak of his experiences within the Rainbow Pavilion, as it involved something else—the jade pendant at his waist. He did not know what it was, but he understood that as long as the pendant existed, so did his life.
If anyone attempted to seize it, it would be like taking his life. If someone came to claim his life, Su Fan would not hesitate to make sure they never returned.
Casually, Su Fan said, “Daoist magic? What exactly is that?”
Lin Xiaofeng interjected, “Daoist magic is naturally a cultivation technique created by those who follow the Dao.”
Su Fan had only ever heard of immortal cultivation, never Daoist cultivation. Curious, he asked, “Daoist cultivation? How is that different from immortal cultivation?”
Lin Xiaofeng did not quite know how to answer. To him, both immortal cultivation and Daoist cultivation were vague concepts—both were means to become stronger.
Nameless looked approvingly at Su Fan and smiled. “Few people care to ask that question. They think it doesn’t matter what path you cultivate, only that you improve your powers.”
Su Fan was silent. Lin Xiaofeng scratched his head, embarrassed, as Nameless had just described him perfectly.
Nameless continued, “Actually, it’s not so. Immortal cultivation is the path to becoming an immortal, while Daoist cultivation is about establishing one’s own Dao lineage.”
Su Fan gazed into the void, as if he could see immortals standing proudly between heaven and earth. He murmured, “What then is the difference between becoming an immortal and achieving the Dao?”
Nameless sighed wryly. “My cultivation is still low; I have not reached that level. But I’ve heard that after reaching the Heart Transformation stage, one can begin to glimpse the vastness of heaven and earth.”
Su Fan lowered his head, somewhat disappointed, silently thinking that if there ever came such a day, would he choose the path of Dao or of immortality? His reverie was broken by an arrogant voice that shattered the calm.
“Immortals lack compassion; we mortals must cultivate the Dao and slay all immortals.”
Such words were utterly domineering and arrogant. To kill immortals would require tremendous strength and backing. Su Fan thought that even the legendary Song Empire would not dare utter such boldness.
No one mocked or scorned the speaker; all simply looked toward the source of the voice with calm curiosity, wondering what power the speaker possessed.
The man casually stepped out of the Rainbow Pavilion, astonishing everyone anew. When had he entered? Or was he one of the Pavilion’s own?
He wore gray robes embroidered with white doves, so lifelike they seemed ready to soar into the sky.
Su Fan glanced at him, and a single word came to mind: “Messenger.”
Su Fan was taken aback. “Esteemed senior… may I ask what business you have?”
Seeing the man’s lecherous expression, the grand image Su Fan had imagined vanished instantly. Disappointment welled up, but Su Fan masked it well, confident no one would notice.
As expected, Lin Xiaofeng and the others did not see through it either. They all cast puzzled glances at Su Fan, perhaps doubting his judgment—how could such a sleazy man be called a senior? Would that not tarnish the sacred title?
The gray-robed man’s expression darkened with displeasure. “I’m here looking for someone.”
Su Fan hurriedly asked, “Who?”
“Looking for you,” the man replied.
Su Fan was curious. “We don’t know each other. Why look for me?”
“To retrieve something from you.”
Su Fan laughed. “Since we don’t know each other, how would I have your item?”
The gray-robed man seemed uninterested in explaining why he wanted it. “A token. Hand it over quickly.”
Su Fan chuckled at the absurdity of the demand. He knew nothing of any token and possessed none, so he turned to leave.
The man grew impatient. “It’s the one at your waist…”
Su Fan cut him off sharply. “Lin Xiaofeng, please escort Hong Ling back to Drunken Immortal’s residence. Nameless senior, you should also leave soon. You’re badly injured and this place isn’t safe.”
Neither knew what Su Fan meant, but seeing his grave expression, they understood he had his reasons and reluctantly obeyed.
Only after they departed did Su Fan relax slightly and say, “Friend, is that thing yours?”
The gray-robed man sneered, “Why so many words? Will you give it or not?”
Su Fan slowly stepped back, hand moving toward his storage pouch. “Are you trying to rob me?”
The man mocked, “And what if I am? With your cultivation below Nascent Soul, I could kill you at will, even thousands of years ago.”
Su Fan’s heart sank. He could not read this man’s cultivation, and neither could Nameless before. From what he had heard earlier, cultivation levels were immediately clear.
“Heart Transformation stage,” Su Fan thought grimly.
His face paled, yet he still had no intention of handing over the jade pendant.
He smiled faintly. “May I ask your name and where you come from?”
Almost immediately, Su Fan regretted speaking such a trivial question at a life-or-death moment. Cultivators were usually as cunning as foxes; revealing one’s identity and origins was taboo, lest enemies seek revenge.
Had this been any other cultivator, such a question would have provoked anger, resulting in instant death, and all possessions confiscated, the body destroyed.
But this gray-robed man was no ordinary person.