Shao Xian moved through the forest like a shadow, his weakened body still adjusting to the newfound strength gained from his cultivation. His movements were no longer sluggish, yet they lacked the fluidity he once commanded in his prime. Even so, a cripple who had been left for dead had now stepped onto the path of power once more.
The rising sun cast its golden rays upon the dense trees, illuminating his path as he walked toward the nearest town. He had spent the night refining the crude technique he had stolen, pushing his body beyond its limits. But strength alone would not be enough. He needed information, resources, and most of all—revenge.
His first destination was Blackwood Town, a small settlement on the outskirts of the Jiang Clan's territory. It was a place where merchants, mercenaries, and rogue cultivators gathered, far from the influence of the larger sects and noble houses. If there was anywhere he could begin rebuilding himself, it was there.
As he walked, his thoughts remained sharp. The memories of this body's former owner were still fresh in his mind. Jiang Chen had been treated as nothing more than a stain upon his clan's name, humiliated and discarded at every turn. His own cousin, Jiang Tian, had orchestrated his downfall, ensuring that his supposed "death" would be seen as nothing more than an unfortunate accident.
A cold glint flashed in Shao Xian's eyes.
Jiang Tian had made a grave mistake.
But vengeance would come later. First, he needed to prepare.
---
The journey to Blackwood Town took several hours. By the time he arrived, the sun was already high in the sky. The town was exactly as he remembered from Jiang Chen's fragmented memories—loud, dirty, and bustling with life. Narrow streets wound between wooden buildings, with vendors calling out to potential customers, offering everything from weapons to rare medicinal herbs.
Shao Xian blended into the crowd effortlessly. His tattered robes and bloodstains made him appear no different from the countless beggars and struggling mercenaries that wandered the streets. He ignored the curious glances, his gaze locked onto his first target—a pawnshop at the corner of the market square.
Stepping inside, he was met with the sight of cluttered shelves, old artifacts, and a wiry man seated behind a wooden counter. The shopkeeper was Lu Boren, a greedy but knowledgeable man known for trading anything as long as there was profit.
Lu Boren looked up, his sharp eyes scanning Shao Xian's ragged appearance. "Hah! A beggar who thinks he has something worth selling?" he sneered.
Shao Xian ignored the insult. He reached into his robes and placed the jade slip he had taken from the dead mercenaries onto the counter. "How much?"
Lu Boren's expression shifted as he examined the slip. His fingers ran over the engravings, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Iron Bone Refinement Art… low-tier technique, barely worth anything," he muttered. "I'll give you five silver coins."
Shao Xian didn't flinch. He had no use for such a crude technique—its secrets had already been absorbed and improved upon. "Make it ten."
The shopkeeper let out a dry laugh. "Ten? You must be new to bargaining."
Shao Xian met his gaze, his voice calm but firm. "Or perhaps you think I don't know its true value. This is a complete technique, not a fragment. Even low-tier mercenaries would pay at least fifteen silver for something like this."
Lu Boren's laughter stopped. His eyes narrowed further as he studied Shao Xian, as if reevaluating him. A moment of silence passed before the man clicked his tongue and tossed a small pouch onto the counter. "Fine. Ten silver."
Shao Xian took the pouch without a word. He had no time to waste on haggling further.
With money in hand, he left the pawnshop and walked deeper into the marketplace, his eyes scanning the various stalls. His current priority was simple—a weapon and basic supplies.
He stopped at a small blacksmith's stall, where various blades and iron tools were displayed. The owner, a burly man covered in soot, barely glanced at him.
Shao Xian picked up a dagger, weighing it in his hand. The blade was sharp but unremarkable—suitable for his current needs. "How much?"
"Seven silver," the blacksmith grunted.
Shao Xian tossed the coins onto the counter and took the dagger without another word. With only three silver remaining, he purchased a simple set of dark robes and a small pouch of dried rations before making his way toward a secluded alley.
He changed into the fresh robes, discarding his bloodstained garments. The dagger was secured at his waist, hidden beneath the fabric. He looked no different from a wandering rogue cultivator now.
But appearances meant little.
His next step was far more important.
---
With his immediate needs met, Shao Xian made his way toward a rundown tavern at the edge of the town. Unlike the bustling inns in the market square, this establishment was a place where criminals, mercenaries, and desperate cultivators gathered in secrecy. It was here that he would find information on the Jiang Clan.
The air inside was thick with the scent of alcohol and unwashed bodies. Dim candlelight flickered against the wooden walls, casting long shadows. Conversations hummed in hushed tones, but Shao Xian ignored them as he approached the barkeeper.
"I need information," he said simply.
The barkeeper, an old man with a missing eye, snorted. "Information ain't free."
Shao Xian placed two silver coins on the counter. "The Jiang Clan. What have they been up to recently?"
The barkeeper raised an eyebrow before snatching the coins. He leaned in slightly. "The Jiang Clan? Hmph. They've been real busy lately. Word is, Jiang Tian's making moves to solidify his position as heir. He's been recruiting mercenaries, sending people into the wilderness to 'eliminate threats.'"
Shao Xian's eyes gleamed. So, Jiang Tian wasn't satisfied with just erasing Jiang Chen—he was ensuring no obstacles remained in his path.
The barkeeper continued. "There's also been talk of an upcoming gathering. Some big names are coming to discuss alliances. If you're looking to get involved with them, I'd suggest you think twice."
Shao Xian smirked. "Who said I want to get involved?"
He turned and left the tavern without another word.
Jiang Tian thought himself secure. He believed he had crushed all opposition. But he had made one fatal mistake—he had left a ghost behind.
Shao Xian's path was clear now.
He would not rush into battle like a reckless fool. No, he would erode the Jiang Clan from the shadows, striking at their weak points, spreading fear with every move.
And when the time was right, when Jiang Tian thought himself untouchable…
He would descend upon him like an unrelenting storm.
This was the path of no return.
A path where only the strong survived.
A path that Shao Xian would walk without hesitation.