Life as a Rogue Cultivator

Dai Shenggao trudged through Yellow Wind Ravine. One moment he was alone, the next there was someone walking at his side. He didn’t see him arrive.

The man’s face was all smiles. In his hand he held a thin sheet of yellow paper, glancing between it and the people Dai Shenggao pointed out among the rogue cultivators of Wulong Mountain. Each time a name was mentioned, he carefully repeated it and wrote it down.

Those being singled out turned their heads to look, each of them startled.

From a distance, Zuo Gaofeng noticed the scene and asked Tan Bajhang next to him, “Who’s that guy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him on the mountain before. Have you?”

Tan Bajang frowned slightly and shook his head. “No… never seen him either.”

Zuo Gaofeng turned to the four brothers from Guzhang Mountain. “Who’s that man? Any of you know him?”

The brothers all shook their heads. “Never seen him.”

By the time Dai Shenggao had escorted the man up close, Zuo Gaofeng called out, “Old Dai, and this friend of yours is…?”

Dai Shenggao let out a sigh, his eyes flicking uncertainly. The man beside him seemed to sense his hesitation. With an easy smile, he stepped forward and introduced himself.

“My name’s Meng,” he said. “Inner disciple of Tianmu Mountain, ninth-ranked; Meng Chengzhang.”

The moment the words left his mouth, silence fell over Yellow Wind Ravine. You could’ve heard a single leaf hit the ground.

No one knew how long the silence lasted before Captain Hu finally stammered, “Wanderer Dai... aren’t we going to Baiye Mountain anymore?”

Dai Shenggao looked at him. Then at Mu the physician beside him, at Zuo Gaofeng and Tan Bajhang across the way, at the four Guzhang brothers, and farther off, at the rofue cultivators staring blankly in their direction: Dragon Mountain Wanderer, Old Cripple, Qi Laoqi, Lingling Traveler, Li Fuchen...

He opened his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, but in the end, nothing came out. Fresh chapters posted on ⓝovelFire.net

Meng Chengzhang answered for him, still smiling. “No need to go. You’ve all spent a year opposing Tianmu Mountain. It's time you took a rest.”

Another heavy silence fell, so still it felt suffocating. Then Dragon Mountain Wanderer suddenly shouted, “Run!”

Chaos erupted. More than thirty people scattered in every direction, the Yellow Wind Ravine.

Meng Chengzhang threw back his head and laughed. “Run? What a joke!” Then he glanced at Dai Shenggao beside him. “Looks like a perfect chance to earn some merit, don’t you think?”

Dai Shenggao sighed. “We agreed. I wouldn’t take part.”

Meng Chengzhang didn’t press him either. “Fine,” he said. “Since we’ve made our promise, we won’t make things hard for you. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

All of sudden, a thunderous roar shook the Yellow Wind Ravine. The ground trembled as if a dragon were twisting beneath the earth. A thick white fog surged up, blanketing everything until you couldn’t see more than a few paces ahead.

Meng Chengzhang frowned in surprise. “What the hell is this?”

Dai Shenggao was confused at first, but then something clicked. “Wait, it's that Dragon Mountain Wanderer! I remember hearing he had a Five Thunder Soaring Cloud Talisman. I thought he made it up to scare people… didn’t expect it to be real!”

The Five Thunder Soaring Cloud Talisman was no ordinary talisman ; it was a top-grade one, refined by the Western Xuan Dragon Pavilion. The fact that a bandit cultivator from Wulong Mountain actually possessed one made Meng Chengchang’s face darken. He snorted heavily. “Desperate fool!” he muttered, paying Dai Shenggao no more mind.

With a bound, he leapt toward a nearby hilltop. Through the thick fog, he caught sight of a shadow dashing away in panic. With a cold smile, he flicked his wrist, sending a feather fan whirling through the air straight toward the runner’s back.

That runner was none other than Li Fuchen. He felt a fierce gust behind him and hastily flung out his dust-whisk to block. But the fan was lightning-fast, its path unpredictable. He couldn’t possibly block it. It struck him in the back, hurling him over ten feet through the air. Blood spurted from his mouth, and it was clear he wasn’t going to make it.

Poor guy... he’d always kept a low profile, careful to the extreme, never picking fights or getting involved in trouble. He hadn’t even dared to accept the hero’s post to avenge Tianmu Mountain. And yet, in the end, he still died at the hands of one of Tianmu Mountain’s own inner disciples. Truly pitiful.

Meng Chengchang reached the hilltop, finally breaking through the fog stirred up by the Five Thunder Soaring Cloud Talisman. Looking down, he saw the valley below shrouded in swirling clouds, all around the outer hilltops, lights glimmered. Those were the spells cast by fellow disciples, stewards, and wardens from both the inner and outer sects of Tianmu Mountain. They illuminated the night as they closed in on the Wulong Mountain bandits.

For this operation, Tianmu Mountain had mobilized more than sixty people, including seven Foundation Establishment cultivators. Yet for some reason, Elder Lu Boqi, who was supposed to lead the siege, had still not arrived. That was why the net had been delayed by two hours.

No one had expected the Wulong Mountain bandits to have something as powerful as a Five Thunder Soaring Cloud Talisman. It made wrapping up the operation that much harder.

Suddenly, flames flared up at the base of the western ridge. Meng Chengchang narrowed his eyes. Two of the bandits were trying to break out that way, only to be stopped by a few outer-sect stewards from Tianmu Mountain stationed there. Moments later, a senior brother from a nearby peak swooped in to help, and the two bandits were swiftly cut down.

From the hilltops to the east, bursts of multicolored light lit up the sky. Another group of Wulong Mountain raiders trying to fight their way out. The outcome was predictable. The spellfire quickly died down, though no one could tell whether those bandits were slain or captured alive.

After watching for a while longer, Meng Chengchang suddenly saw someone burst out of the thick fog, stumbling frantically toward his direction. One glance was enough for him to recognize the man. It was Qi Laoqi, one of the Wulong Mountain bandits he’d just checked off the wanted list earlier.

There was no way he’d let the man escape. Meng Chengchang summoned his feather fan once again. After a brief struggle, the fan struck Qi Laoqi on the back of the head. His body went limp and tumbled back down into the swirling mist below.

Moments later, a battle erupted along the mountain path to the left. Meng Chengchang recalled that the ones blocking that route were stewards from the vassal Hua family. The man they’d intercepted was another name on the list. A bandit from Wulong Mountain, surnamed Mu.

“Don’t kill him; he’s a cultivator of the Healing Path! Just capture him!” Meng Chengzhang shouted across the mountain path. Worrying that the chaos might drown out his voice, he even used the True Essence Lion’s Roar technique.

A few of the Hua family stewards heard him and shouted back, “Got it, Senior Brother Meng...”

About an hour later, Lu Boqi finally arrived, riding his flying sword. “Martial Uncle!” Meng Chengzhang called out loudly.

Lu Boqi landed in front of him, fuming. “That Tu fellow from Gengsang Cave and that Bai from the Zhanglong Sect... nothing but troublemakers! They came up with every excuse to delay me. Our movements have been leaked!”

Meng Chengzhang, however, didn’t seem too bothered. “With a commotion this big, it’d be strange if they hadn’t caught wind of it, wouldn’t it? Martial Uncle, Yellow Wind Ravine is sealed tight. No one from the Wulong bandits can escape now. All we have to do is wait for the fog to clear, and we can go down and take them in.”

Lu Boqi squinted into the distance. “I see it… is that a Five Thunder Soaring Cloud Talisman? How in the world did a bunch of bandits get their hands on something this good?”

“Martial Uncle,” asked Meng Chengzhang, “do you have a way to disperse the fog?”

Of course Lu Boqi did. He mounted his sword again and shot down into the valley. With a flick of his sleeve, he released a pill furnace that weaved through the mist, sucking it in as it went.

Two incense sticks’ worth of time later, most of the fog that had blanketed the valley was gone, and the view slowly began to clear.