Chapter 10: Madwoman? Demonic Cultivator?

Page 1 of 3

The night was deep and the rain poured down in torrents, cloaking the world in darkness. A solitary figure, head covered by a bamboo hat and shoulders draped in a straw raincoat, moved slowly through the curtain of rain, gripping a makeshift bundle in his hand. Upon closer inspection, one could discern the rainwater streaming off the bundle was tinged a blood-red hue—the unmistakable color of fresh blood.

This man was none other than Yao Qian.

After slaying Yu Hongchuan, he had checked the carriage again and found a woman inside, unconscious—a courtesan, perhaps, though he hadn’t looked closely. She was still breathing, merely frightened, it seemed, and he had spared her no further thought. The world was rife with tragedy; he could barely care for himself, let alone others.

As he made his way through the alley, his mind reviewed the events of the night. The battle had brought him many benefits; the silver he had gained was mere icing on the cake.

Suddenly, his steps faltered. Something icy and unyielding seemed to tug at him from behind. A cold shock surged from the base of his spine to his mind, and images of Old Chen’s family flashed before his eyes, sending a chill through his body.

“Could I really be this unlucky?” he muttered.

His face went stiff. Slowly, he turned his head—and then exhaled in relief.

It was only an old woman standing behind him, holding a black umbrella. She was so short and hunched that he couldn’t make out her face.

“Grandmother, it’s so late—” he began, but she interrupted with a voice as hoarse and somber as someone on death’s threshold, her head still bowed.

“Young man, my little grandson is lost. Can you help me find him?”

Crack! Crack!

Lightning, sharp as a spear, split the sky, illuminating the ground as if it were midday.

Yao Qian finally saw her face: frail and wizened, her skin like crumpled parchment, bony hands clutching at his clothes like the claws of a chicken. Her face was a maze of wrinkles, layered like waves upon a restless sea.

Such a visage would move even the hardest of hearts.

“Grandmother, where are your family? Did you come out alone to look for your grandson?”

He wondered at the cruelty of her kin. How could they send an old woman out into such a storm, in the dead of night, to search for a child? Was this not the same as sending her to her death?

But the old woman merely loosened her grip, propped her black umbrella, and shuffled deeper into the alley, mumbling as if lost in a dream.

“Grandson… grandson…”

Page 2 of 3

Yao Qian watched as the old woman, umbrella in hand, stumbled into the depths of the alley, still calling out. He followed after her, but after a few steps, a sense of unease prickled over him—his hair stood on end, and he drew a sharp breath.

How could such a feeble, trembling woman, walking under a battered umbrella in a rainstorm, approach him so silently? There had been no sound of rain drumming on her umbrella, no footsteps—she had simply appeared behind him and grabbed his clothes without his notice.

“Maybe I was too absorbed in my thoughts and didn’t hear anything,” he reasoned. He had been lost in reviewing the fight, so it was possible he’d missed everything outside.

He laughed at himself. He had just slain the Bone-Grinder of Pingyang, yet here he was, startled by an old woman.

He quickened his pace, catching up just behind her. The two figures wound their way through the twisting alleys, turning corner after corner. Who knew how much time had passed before the old woman suddenly stopped.

“Good boy, my precious grandson, don’t run off next time,” she crooned.

Yao Qian’s eyes flickered with surprise. “She actually found him?”

He took a few steps closer, trying to see, but the old woman was cradling something wrapped in tattered cloth under her umbrella, shielding it from view.

“How old could he be, to wander off like that?” he wondered.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the old woman lifted her umbrella and looked at him—a pale, wrinkled face attempting a smile that seemed more like a sinister grin.

“Young man, thank you for helping me find my grandson. I’m going home now. You should hurry home, too.”

With that, she turned and walked down a different alley.

Yao Qian found it odd. How could such a small child wander out alone? Or perhaps the old woman had taken the child out and then forgotten where she left him, which was why the family sent her out to search?

His thoughts tumbled over one another, causing him to lag behind. When he regained his senses, the old woman had already entered the alley.

He hurried after her, but as he stepped into the alley, his body froze, goosebumps prickling his skin, eyes wide with disbelief.

The alley was a dead end.

He searched left and right, but not even a shadow remained. The alley was barely ten meters long, open to view from end to end, without a single corner or hiding place.

“Did I imagine it, or did they…” he wondered.

He moved forward a couple of steps. A strange wind swept past, chilling his neck. His expression darkened, and he quickly backed out of the alley, only then feeling relief.

Yao Qian stood watching the alley for a long while, his face shifting between emotions, before finally turning away without a backward glance.

Yet in that very moment, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he glimpsed the black umbrella wobbling and drifting to the ground within the alley.

He dared not look again, striding swiftly away.

Page 3 of 3

Over half an hour later, in his room, the warm glow of the brazier filled the air as the charcoal crackled and burned. Yao Qian hung his hat and raincoat outside and changed into clean, dry clothes, feeling the chill that had clung to him slowly dissipate.

He stood by the fire for a while, letting the warmth seep into his bones, before turning to the table. Upon it sat a small, sealed wooden box, along with his recently discarded clothes and single-edged knife.

After putting away the knife and box, he picked up his clothes and rummaged through the pockets, his brow furrowing as he drew something out.

Opening his hand, he found a silver pouch and a fragment of jade.

His face darkened at once.

The silver pouch was spoils he had taken from Yu Hongguang. The jade fragment, however, he had never seen before.

It belonged neither to him nor to Yu Hongchuan.

How had it ended up in his pocket? His thoughts flashed to the old woman he had met that night.

“It must be her. Is this my reward for helping her find her grandson? So, it wasn’t all a hallucination…”

Yao Qian had harbored a sliver of hope that what he’d witnessed tonight was mere illusion. The darkness could have played tricks on his eyes.

But now the cold, bone-chilling jade in his palm was proof enough. It felt as if a chill was seeping from the jade into his very skin.

As he pondered this, the jade suddenly trembled in his hand. The coldness slipped out, flowed up his arm and vanished without a trace, leaving no sensation behind.

Yao Qian’s face changed drastically. He examined the jade again; it looked unchanged, but the chill was gone.

His complexion shifted from pale to green and back again before finally settling.

He threw the jade onto the table and carefully checked himself for any abnormalities, but found nothing amiss.

“Blue Star!”

Still uneasy, he summoned Blue Star and checked it quickly, his expression finally easing.

On the blood-red panel, the Potential stat had increased from 0 to 2.

Focusing on the Potential, he understood what had happened.

It was Blue Star that had actively absorbed the strange energy from the jade fragment.

Armed with this knowledge, he felt uncertain whether to be relieved or dismayed.

Relieved, because he was unharmed and still healthy; dismayed, because his journey home had only just begun, yet he had already encountered a ghost.