Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Sword Descends from the Heavens

In the blink of an eye, the Daoist's sword was already at the tip of Xu Wenshan's nose; he could feel the biting chill radiating from its point.

This stroke was no ordinary attack.

Though he had never fought a cultivator before, he could sense that the sword's intent was bone-piercing—if the wielder bore true killing intent, even if the blade never touched him, the sheer force of the sword qi would tear through his body. Should he actually be struck, the sword energy would erupt within, rending his flesh into four pieces—like a tangerine, or some monstrous parasite's host.

Among mortal swordmasters, forging sword qi was already the mark of a top-tier expert, yet this Daoist's sword surpassed that realm entirely.

This was a sword not of the mortal world, but one that had descended from the heavens.

Even if he could instantly cast Stone Skin and use his demonic power to harden it to its utmost, he knew he could never withstand this blow.

But he never intended to defend himself.

The Daoist before him had reached the Foundation Establishment stage—a level that, for a demon, would be considered second tier. If Lu Ze were here, he might have stood a chance, but Xu Wenshan's own physical strength could not endure even a single strike. The disparity in strength was overwhelming.

In other words, if this Daoist wanted to kill him, he could do so at any moment: from the other end of the street, in passing, with the mere flicker of a thought.

And yet, the Daoist had chosen to draw his sword directly before him, face to face, which meant he did not truly wish to kill.

So Xu Wenshan had no intention of resisting.

Not only did he not resist, he forced himself to appear utterly calm.

But in that split second, a memory surfaced—the words he had once spoken to Ergouzi: "Idiot, you were much too calm when I tested you before!"

So he abandoned all pretense of composure and threw himself to the ground, trembling with fear.

Xu Wenshan's reaction caught the Daoist off guard. From his earlier calm, the Daoist had assumed that, even if this man wasn't a cultivator, he must be a master in some regard. Why, then, was he now groveling on the ground, so abjectly humiliated?

The sword's tip hovered just above the back of Xu Wenshan's head, not descending another inch.

"Hmph, get up," the Daoist said with a cold laugh, forming a sword seal with his fingers. With a flick, the sword soared into the air and returned to the scabbard on his back.

Xu Wenshan remained prone, only daring to look up once the Daoist had sheathed his sword. Then he scrambled up, shrinking back to one side.

As he risked a glance, their eyes suddenly met. In that instant, time seemed to freeze. The bustling street and the clamor faded away, leaving the world deathly silent. A flood of memories not his own surged into his mind. But as quickly as it came, the moment passed, and when he looked again, the Daoist had vanished without a trace.

After some time, drenched in cold sweat, Xu Wenshan hurried back to his lodgings.

...

Back at the county office, Lü Wuji had identified over seventy suspicious individuals. Today, he intended to test each one.

Xu Wenshan was high on his list of suspects, but when put to the test, surprisingly, he showed not a trace of cultivation.

If a cultivator had any power, a sword drawn against them would instinctively provoke a defense—an automatic reaction, even in the most disciplined. There would always be some giveaway.

...

It seemed the man was nothing but an ordinary mortal.

What Lü Wuji did not know was that some lesser demons possessed the innate ability to perfectly conceal their demonic power.

To be thorough, Lü Wuji also cast Mind Seize on Xu Wenshan.

"Mind Seize" was a basic technique available after reaching Foundation Establishment, allowing the practitioner to freely access the target's memories—akin to the "mind-reading" tales of folk legend.

However, this spell could only be used on mortals.

It had a fatal flaw—if cast on a cultivator, the backlash could be severe. If the target's power was lower than the caster's, the practitioner would gain nothing and might even inadvertently reveal their own secrets. If the target's power was equal or greater, the practitioner could become addled or even fall under the other’s control, becoming a mindless puppet.

Having established that Xu Wenshan was not a cultivator, Lü Wuji briefly probed his memories, finding only scattered, fragmented images and nothing useful.

He was not suspicious—Mind Seize did not work on every mortal, as some martial experts had formidable mental defenses.

So he temporarily set aside his doubts about Xu Wenshan, intending to eliminate other suspects first before reconsidering him.

But as he walked away, a sudden thought struck the Daoist: if this man was a martial master, why had he crumpled to the ground in terror, so utterly losing his composure?

If he truly possessed martial skill, he should have leapt to defend himself, not begged for mercy.

This could only mean he was hiding something.

With a thought, Lü Wuji flicked his fingers. A wisp of powder, like blue smoke, settled on Xu Wenshan and then vanished.

...

Xu Wenshan returned to the inn, shut the door, and collapsed against it, gasping for breath.

The pressure Lü Wuji had exerted on him outside was overwhelming. Only now, safe within his room, did he dare let his frightened expression show.

After Lü Wuji had used Mind Seize on him, fragments of memory had flooded his mind.

He now knew of the Ten Thousand Arts Monastery, of Lü Wuji, of Mind Seize, and of the Daoist’s hunt for "the Gentleman Thief, Chu Liuxiang."

He also realized that, before leaving, the Daoist had marked him with a talisman. The trace gave off an unpleasant scent—imperceptible to mortals but glaringly obvious to anyone with magical power, like a torch in the darkness.

What he did not know was that the Daoist had marked him with Bone-Penetrating Incense because Xu Wenshan's own ruse had backfired.

"Bone-Penetrating Incense" was a special powder devised by the Ten Thousand Arts Monastery, used to secretly mark targets. Even if the person fled a hundred miles, it could be tracked by magic. And once it touched the skin, it was nearly impossible to remove.

He hadn’t expected the Daoist to be watching him so closely.

His time was running out.

As Xu Wenshan sat on the floor, eyes wide in thought, a sudden voice startled him: "What are you thinking about?"

...

Xu Wenshan looked up and saw Xu Jing sitting on his bed.

He had been so flustered upon entering that he hadn’t even noticed someone else in the room.

Xu Jing looked at him and said, "Don’t stare at me with such terror in your eyes. I’m in trouble and needed a place to hide."

Xu Wenshan asked, "How did you get in?"

"I’m the constable’s son—what little innkeeper would dare bar my way?"

Xu Wenshan was speechless. Indeed, in a foreign land, there was no such thing as safety.

He asked, "What trouble have you gotten into?"

Xu Jing’s face clouded over.

Ever since that day when a servant in her household molested her, her fortunes had turned upside down. Her father, Xu Zhong, had been furious, ordering all the servants to find the culprit. But then it was discovered that the impudent servant, Song Sanzang, had sought refuge in the registrar’s office.

Xu Zhong assumed the registrar would return the man to him out of camaraderie, but was refused and even had his men beaten back.

Xu Zhong then petitioned the magistrate, hoping for justice, but the magistrate not only refused to help but blamed him for mishandling the case. Meanwhile, the registrar accused him in turn of lax management, leading to such a grave theft.

The wretched Song San fanned the flames, spreading vile rumors among the registrar’s staff that Xu Jing had been molested by him, his words crude and filthy beyond belief.

These past few days, her father’s expression had grown colder by the day, until he finally said that, since she had been defiled, it would be better to marry her off quickly before the scandal spread.

Enraged by this humiliation, Xu Jing had left home. If she went to her friends, they would likely tell her father where she was. So, to avoid being dragged back, she had, almost against her own will, ended up at Xu Wenshan’s place.

Though she told herself she was only seeking refuge, deep down, she couldn’t deny a more complicated motive.

She blamed Xu Wenshan for everything—if not for him, she would never have been forced to dress as a woman, nor suffered such disgrace at the hands of that wretch.

Having finished her tale, Xu Jing looked at Xu Wenshan expectantly, hoping for some words of comfort.

But Xu Wenshan only said:

"And do you really think hiding here will solve anything?"

"What?"

"Running here is just an escape," Xu Wenshan said coldly.