Life as a Rogue Cultivator

Liu Xiaolou had been working day and night for a whole month, tirelessly refining formation disks. Meanwhile, Fang Bu’ai spent that same month keeping a close eye on Lu’s Alchemy House from the teahouse nearby. He was the kind of person who never lost focus once he set his mind on something. And sure enough, his persistence actually paid off.

“The seventh day after we sold those pill materials,” Fang said, “the shop suddenly got a few new workers. And one unfamiliar face showed up. That guy’s been watching every customer who walks in. I’m sure he’s no ordinary person. At least at the tenth layer, maybe even at the peak.”

“So, they’re suspicious?”

“Could be. I mean, we did sell eighteen different spiritual materials at once, all of which they just happened to need. If they’ve got any connection with Tianmu Mountain, they’d definitely be on alert.”

“You didn’t blow your cover, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Fang said. “I’ve been sitting here drinking tea like always, and I’ve changed spots a few times too. Besides, when we went in that day, we were both wearing bamboo hats.”

“Any sign they’ve brought in people from Tianmu Mountain?"

“Haven’t seen any.”

“Then I guess we didn’t stir the hornet’s nest enough, huh? Not nearly enough?”

“Yeah.”

“We need to come up with something. Can’t let those people at Tianmu Mountain get too comfortable. They need to know that wherever they’ve been, anywhere under heaven, we can show up too. Make them restless, make them worry, keep them running in circles!”

“…So, you’re saying we hit Lu’s shop?”

“Don’t be stupid. We can’t make a move here; this is Chicheng Mountain. You got a death wish or something? Have you found out when they’re transporting the spirit materials?”

“No…”

That wasn’t really Fang Bu’ai’s fault. Tracking a spiritual material shipment was almost impossible. All it took was one person with a storage artifact, and they could travel alone without attracting attention. Even if you saw them leave right in front of you, you’d have no way of knowing whether they were carrying pill materials or not.

Liu Xiaolou thought it over. Even if they did figure out who was transporting the goods, would they really dare to ambush them halfway? What if the person turned out to be a Foundation Establishment cultivator?

“We’ll give it three more days,” Liu Xiaolou finally said. “If there’s still no lead, we pull out. Leave Chicheng Mountain.”

Over the next three days, Fang kept watch at Lu’s shop’s front entrance while Liu Xiaolou wandered around the back now and then. Luckily, there were plenty of other shops nearby and a steady stream of cultivators coming and going. Enough cover to keep them from drawing suspicion.

By the third evening, Liu Xiaolou made his way back to an herbal shop diagonally across from Lu’s place and asked Fang Bu'ai, “Any luck?” The source of thɪs content is novel fire.net

Fang Bunai gave the herb back to the shopkeeper and shook his head at Liu Xiaolou. Still nothing.

Liu Xiaolou made up his mind. “Alright, let’s get moving.”

They slipped back onto the busy main street and pushed through the crowd, glancing back at the door of Lu’s Alchemy House now and then with heavy hearts.

“Back home and keep cultivating. We’ll wait for another chance to strike. Wulong Mountain’s heroes get their revenge, even if it takes ten years. From dawn to dusk, we’ll pester them to death if we have to.”

“I understand. I’ll work hard… Big Brother… Big Brother?”

“Don’t turn around…”

“Ah…”

Fang Bu’ai didn’t dare glance back. He kept walking straight ahead. When he felt Liu Xiaolou’s steps slow beside him, he slowed too. Before long, they’d reached the end of the market street.

Then Liu Xiaolou murmured, “He’s here. Up ahead; the man in gray, hair tied with a hero’s scarf. See him?”

“Blue or yellow?”

“Yellow.”

“I see him. This guy…”

“He was next to the Pingdu Eight Formations Gate’s shopkeeper when the formation disks were handed over three days ago. Just now, he walked out of Lu’s Alchemy House, and when the clerk bowed, he didn’t even flinch.”

“Big Brother, I’ve been to plenty of shops this month. Some of the clerks bowed to me too, and I stayed calm and didn’t panic.”

“That’s not what I meant. The way they bowed to him was different. It's respectful, not the half-hearted kind we get. And his calm… it had that kind of superior distance, like someone looking down from above.”

“Big Brother, you just took one quick glance back and figured all that out?”

“…It’s a feeling. You wouldn’t understand. When your cultivation reaches my level, you’ll get it. Anyway, maybe I didn’t catch every detail, but if he really belongs to the Pingdu Eight Formations Gate, why was he at Lu’s Alchemy House? You know I’ve been making formation disk at Siming Sect shop, and I suspect a lot of them were actually custom orders from Tianmu Mountain. If he’s from Tianmu Mountain, then it all fits.”

“Big Brother, we’re almost out of the market... what should we do?”

“Slow down a bit… keep some distance… don’t panic, there are still plenty of people around.”

“Should we put on our hats?”

“Lots of folks are wearing them. Let’s wear ours too…”

“Fewer people now…”

“Then we split up. You go ahead, I’ll hang back. If he turns around, just walk past him. Don’t stop, don’t look back. I’ll still be following.”

“Okay.”

They walked on for another couple of li. The man in gray with the yellow headscarf turned onto a road leading west, and the crowd thinned out even more. Liu Xiaolou dropped back another ten or so paces, trailing from a distance.

They kept following like that for more than ten li. By now it was deep into the night, the moon high and bright. Dark hills loomed on both sides, and hardly anyone was out on the road, making Fang Bu'ai stick out even more.

Liu Xiaolou never found a chance to strike. He couldn’t gauge the man’s level of cultivation, and even if he did decide to act, he’d need the right moment. Maybe catching him at the inn late at night, or finding him holed up alone in some mountain cave.

All of sudden, the man in gray with the yellow headscarf stopped walking. He turned around, looking straight at Fang Bu’ai, who had been following behind.

Liu Xiaolou’s heart tightened. He watched anxiously.

Fang Bu’ai did exactly as Liu Xiaolou had told him: he didn’t change his pace, didn’t look up, just walked right past the man. The man in gray watched him go, his gaze following Fang Bu’ai’s back until he’d gone more than ten paces ahead, then he turned his eyes toward Liu Xiaolou.

Liu Xiaolou slowed his pace as he drew near. He shifted a few steps to the other side of the road, putting some distance between himself and the man. Then he looked straight at him, openly, his eyes full of caution.

The man in gray couldn’t make out Liu Xiaolou’s face hidden in the shadow of his bamboo hat, nor could he see the caution in his eyes. But seeing him deliberately on guard seemed to relax him. He said nothing and just let Liu Xiaolou walk past.

Still tense, Liu Xiaolou kept walking, glancing back every few steps. Suddenly, a few figures appeared from behind a nearby mound and gathered around the man in gray. Some of them watched Liu Xiaolou; others kept their eyes fixed on the road behind, as if waiting for something. A couple of them leaned close, whispering to the man in gray.

After a short while, the group turned around together and headed back the way they came, soon swallowed by the thick night.

Cold sweat broke out all over Liu Xiaolou’s back.

Up ahead, Fang Bu’ai kept trudging forward, head down, until Liu finally caught up behind him. Only then did Fang glance back instinctively.

“Keep walking. Don’t say a word,” whispered Liu Xiaolou.

The two of them walked on like that through most of the night, following the narrow mountain path for more than thirty li before finally slipping into the dense forest at the side.

Fang Bu’ai looked puzzled. “Big Brother?”

Liu Xiaolou wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “What sneaky bastards… the Lu family is way too cunning. We almost fell right into their trap!”