The night deepened, quiet and endless, as Li Cheng continued walking aimlessly down the road. His expression was blank. It was as though his soul had been left behind, buried with his mother in the grave.
Behind him, a voice echoed in the distance.
"Hey! Kid! Hey! Hey!!!"
The shouting grew louder, but Li Cheng didn't flinch. He didn't glance back. It was as if the world behind him no longer existed.
Panting heavily, the old man finally caught up to him, beads of sweat lining his wrinkled forehead. He stood directly in Li Cheng's path, breathing hard, a wine gourd swaying from his waist.
"You little brat! Kids these days have no manners!" he said in between gasps. "I've been calling you for ages, but you just kept walking like you're deaf!"
He took a long swig from his wine gourd, sighed in satisfaction, and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
"Ahhh… that's better."
But Li Cheng didn't say a word. He didn't even spare him a glance. He merely stepped around the old man and kept walking, like a ghost drifting through mist.
"I'm talking to you, kid! Are you even alive?" the old man growled, frustration creeping into his voice.
When that failed, he rushed forward again and stepped in front of him, grabbing Li Cheng by the arm.
"Oi! What's wrong with you?" he demanded, peering into the boy's eyes.
What he saw made him pause.
Li Cheng's gaze was hollow—utterly lifeless. The light in his eyes was gone, leaving behind a deathly emptiness.
The old man's brow furrowed deeply. "Do you… remember me?"
Li Cheng gave no reply.
That was the final straw. the old man snapped he was pissed...
"Hmph! You dare to defy me?" The old man's tone turned grim.
With a swift movement, he pointed two fingers and struck Li Cheng's right chest, then the left, and finally tapped his forehead.
"Come back!" he shouted, and a small surge of spiritual energy burst from his fingers.
Li Cheng staggered backward, jolted by the impact. The energy rippled through him, dispersing the numbness clouding his mind. His eyes blinked rapidly, and for the first time in what felt like hours, he looked around, disoriented.
"Ah… what is this place?" he murmured, confused.
The old man grinned triumphantly and flipped his long white hair back. He struck a ridiculous drunken pose, one foot raised, hand on his hip, wine gourd hanging loosely.
"You're awake now, right? So, do you remember me?"
Li Cheng squinted at him. "You are…"
He trailed off, trying to remember where he has mate such a crazy old man.
"You still don't remember?" the man said in anger "You want me to smack you again?" He rolled up his sleeves, prepared to deliver another dose of 'healing.'
But then Li Cheng's eyes widened in recognition.
"You… You're the Immortal Envoy… Wu Ming!"
He bowed quickly, his voice filled with sudden respect. "Please forgive me for not recognizing you earlier, sir!"
Wu Ming halted mid-motion, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "You remember me now?"
"Yes, sir. I do. I'm sorry."
Wu Ming clicked his tongue. "Just look at you. What happened in just a week that turned you into this dried-up cabbage?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Didn't you go to the Immortal Peak? I saw that fire in your eyes back then. You were ready. Don't tell me those old coots rejected you just because you weren't from some noble families?"
Li Cheng let out a bitter sigh. "It's… a long story."
Wu Ming raised both hands. "A long story, eh? Well, lucky for you, I'm less busy tonight."
Before Li Cheng could protest, Wu Ming grabbed him by the shoulder and soared into the sky with a powerful leap. Li Cheng gasped as the earth shrank beneath them, the wind howling in his ears.
"I've got wine, and now I've got gossip," Wu Ming chuckled mid-air. "Take your time and spill it all."
They disappeared into the night sky like a pair of shooting stars.
* BESIDE MENGYAO LAKE *
The moon hung low over the tranquil lake, its reflection dancing across the water's surface. Wu Ming lay sprawled on a thick tree branch, his wine gourd perched against his chest.
Below him, Li Cheng crouched by a campfire, turning a pair of fish he had just roasted. The fire crackled quietly, casting shadows across the clearing.
Sniff. Sniff.
"Mmmm… That smells great!" Wu Ming exclaimed.
As he leaned forward to get a better whiff, the branch beneath him snapped.
Crack!
Thud!!
"Ahhyiya! My poor, old waist!" Wu Ming groaned from the ground, rolling over dramatically.
Li Cheng simply glanced at him and shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"You cold-hearted brat," Wu Ming complained, limping toward the fire. "You didn't even try to help your grandpa up!"
"With your cultivation level, sir, I doubt falling from a tree would do you any harm," Li Cheng replied calmly, turning the fish again.
Wu Ming grunted. "Tch. Fair enough."
He snatched a fish from the fire and took a big bite.
"Mmmm! You really can cook, kid. Where did you learn this?"
"Not much. Just some things my mother taught me," Li Cheng said softly. He took a fish for himself, but his gaze was distant, lost in the stars above.
Wu Ming chewed silently for a moment, watching the boy from the corner of his eye. He noticed the hollowness still lingering in Li Cheng's expression.
"Kid I can really feel that you have gone through a lot for someone so young," he finally said, his voice unusually gentle. "Tell me—what happened that day? Don't tell me you failed the trial."
" I made it out of the trial, but it's still all about the spiritual root... Li Cheng said and shook his head. He looked down and smiled bitterly.
"What do you mean it's all about spiritual roots? Even those with weak spiritual roots were accepted as outer disciples. Even if yours was weak, you should at least be an outer disciple by now—so what are you doing here?"
Li Cheng shrugged. "becausbI don't have one."
Wu Ming's mouth fell open.
He dropped the fish.
"Wait... What?! You... you don't have a spiritual root? How is that even possible?" Wu Ming exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock.
"Even ordinary mortals have one!"
"Maybe I'm worse than an ordinary mortal," Li Cheng said with a bitter smile.
"Nonsense!" Wu Ming snapped.
"Come here."
He placed his palm on Li Cheng's forehead. A soft white light flickered and faded.
His expression darkened.
"How… how did this happen?"
"This is really weird..." Wu Ming muttered, taking a bite from his fish and washing it down with a swig of wine.
Li Cheng sat in silence for a moment, then spoke in a hollow voice. "I was born like this. That's why my father and the entire family rejected me." He stared blankly into the distance, his eyes dark with buried pain. "My father threw my mother and me out when I was still a child. He couldn't bear to keep a useless son—someone who couldn't bring honor to the family."
He paused, the firelight flickering across his face.
"Since then, my mother and I have lived on the outskirts of the city, just the two of us. But by the time I returned today..." his voice cracked slightly, "...she was already gone."
Tears welled in his eyes, but he held them back.
"Now, I have no ties left in this world." No family or a place to call a home.
Wu Ming was silent for a long while. Then he raised his half-eaten fish and waved it like a sword.
"Well, since you made me a great meal tonight," he said with a smirk, "I'll do something for you in return."
Li Cheng looked up, surprised.
"I need a cook.
"Come to Qinyun Sect and be my cook.
Those crazy women in the sect cook like demons. I've suffered enough.
They make terrible dishes—I'm so tired of eating those crabs" Wu Ming said, sounding visibly irritated.
How about it—want to join Qinyun Sect as my personal chef?"
Li Cheng choked on air.
"A… cook?"
His heart sank for a moment.
But then he blinked.
Wait… Qinyun Sect?
Wasn't that one of the immortal sects on the Immortal Peak?
He looked at Wu Ming again, really looked.
Maybe this old drunk wasn't as crazy as he seemed.
"Hmm?" Wu Ming asked, one brow raised. "Well?"
Li Cheng inhaled sharply.
"Fine "
Wu Ming grinned. "Good. Now that's settled"
Suddenly, the wind howled across the clearing. Dust and leaves flew in every direction. Wu Ming stumbled back from his seat, while Li Cheng raised both arms to shield his eyes from the violent wind.
A figure appeared in the midst of the storm—calm, still, draped in a black clork. His hands were folded behind his back. The robe he wore flapped gently in the fading gust, and silence returned finally return.
Wu Ming narrowed his eyes.
Li Cheng took a cautious step backward.
This was Xu Zihan.
Yang Xin's personal guard.