The Immortal Path Is Crowded

Inside an elegant hall, though clearly modest compared to those of the great clans or sects, a short and somewhat plump man walked back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. He wore fine robes embroidered with silver thread that betrayed his wealth, but his expression had nothing dignified about it. Every step betrayed his unease.

To one side, two middle-aged men remained seated with their arms crossed and brows furrowed. Further on, an old man with completely white hair rested in a wide chair with his eyes half-closed.

The rhythmic sound of the short man's shoes against the polished floor grew increasingly irritating, until a young man of about seventeen, with sharp features and a proud bearing, sighed and straightened up.

"Father, the people from the Eight Celestial Peaks Sect won't come. Why would a disciple from such an important sect accept a request like this?" His tone dripped with frustration. "Let me go find one of my superiors. We'll deal with those bandits ourselves."

The man stopped and slowly turned his head toward his son. He observed him for a few seconds before responding.

"You don't understand. Precisely because it is an important sect it's worth trying. Even if they only send an outer disciple, it would be enough to deter many. The name of the sect carries more weight than a hundred guards in this city."

He shifted his gaze toward the old man.

"Besides, those bandits aren't simple roadside thieves. We've already lost three caravans. There's something strange behind all this."

The young man pressed his lips together, but didn't argue further.

Outside the sun was slowly setting. Inside the hall, tension was growing.

Exhaling deeply, the plump man lamented.

The request sent to the Eight Celestial Peaks Sect had not been cheap. Favors, contacts, and a considerable fortune had left the family coffers. If no one came, they would lose not only resources, but also prestige.

At that instant the doors burst open.

A servant rushed in, his face pale.

"Master Han! Someone at the gate just knocked Guard Xu down with a single blow! This servant didn't dare approach and came straight here."

The room fell silent, only for an instant before two loud, furious voices resonated through the hall.

"What?!"

"Who dares to act with violence against the Han merchant family?"

"You damn insolent!"

The two middle-aged men stood up instantly.

"Who does he think he is?"

"Looks like someone's tired of living."

Chief Han did not shout. He stepped down from the platform with firm steps. "Let's see what's happening." His brothers followed him with faces overflowing with anger. The young man walked behind, with a piercing gaze.

Upon reaching the main entrance, Chief Han saw the scene clearly.

A young man was squatting next to Guard Xu, who lay unconscious on the ground. With total serenity, he was giving him little pokes on the head with a thin branch, giving the impression of someone examining merchandise.

The two middle-aged men burst out in indignation and advanced immediately, raising their voices trying to impose their authority.

However, Chief Han stopped short, his body tensed and a premonition seized his instinct, especially when he realized something.

The young man set aside the branch and stood up. He was even younger than his own son. He wore an elegant robe, without ostentation. His posture was upright, his complexion fair, with dark hair and faint golden strands. His eyes, golden and deep, showed no nervousness.

He's enjoying himself. That was the impression Chief Han got, then his gaze dropped to the young man's waist.

He saw a token hanging. The engraved symbol was unmistakable.

The Eight Celestial Peaks Sect.

His brothers' voices began to lose relevance before that single thought.

Jin heard the approaching footsteps and stood up naturally, dusting off his hands. He watched the group come out the door. Two men in front, visibly irritated. Behind them, the short, stout man, clearly the leader. Further back, a young man a little older than him.

He assessed the hierarchy in a matter of seconds, while the two men shouted at him, accusing him of insolence, Jin barely looked at them. His attention remained fixed on the short man.

The brothers took a step forward, their auras stirring. Only then did the young man advance and raise his hand.

"Uncles, please. It's not good to lose control so easily. Allow me to handle this."

Then he looked directly at Jin. There was no anger or fear in his serene eyes.

"Friend, I don't know what brings you before my Han family, but it is not right to attack our people without reason."

Jin arched an eyebrow slightly and pointed with his thumb at the unconscious guard.

"Mmm... but there is a reason."

"What reason could there be to hit someone like that?"

"Why not? He insulted me... and I didn't like his face."

The irony and lack of seriousness in his tone was evident.

The two men became even more indignant, ready to fight at any moment. The young man's gaze hardened, though he maintained his composure.

"Even so, that does not justify assaulting anyone."

Hearing something unexpected Jin tilted his head slightly.

"Mmm... I see you're also a cultivator, and very young. You must belong to some sect, right? I imagine that if someone like a guard or peasant wounded your pride, you too would resort to violence."

The young man understood the implication in that phrase, causing his expression to tighten.

Noticing the change Jin smiled inwardly. Finally... we're going to have a little fun.

The atmosphere grew tenser. The middle-aged men were ready to intervene. And the young man's aura slowly changed, his expression free of its previous serenity.

Then the short man moved without warning, raised his hand and struck his own son on the head.

A clear, hollow sound filled the place, The young man froze stiff. And the two furious men paralyzed with confused looks.

Jin blinked, his eyes opened wide as saucers, his newly acquired excited smile twisted halfway.

That... was not in the script he expected.