AZI Volume 7 Chapter 29.5 Intermission – The Tavern Incident

A year had passed since Cuo Qing Yi had departed from the lands of the Danqing Empire; at a random roadside tavern—

"I heard that the devil has been spotted in the Líng Mù Province recently."

"What devil are you talking about? Every demonic practitioner can be referred to as the devil these days."

"What other devil is there—other than the devil that is surnamed Cuo?"

"…"

Hearing this remark, a guest, who is seated at a table away from the person who had made the statement, turns his head in their direction, and asks—

"Is that true?"

"Oh? Might I ask if this friend has a grudge against that devil?"

Towards this question, another guest raises a cold snort, and asks back—

"Who doesn't?"

"Even if one doesn't have a grudge against him, that Mo Xiao—that is in his hand, it's highly coveted."

"Indeed. Legends say that surnamed Cuo was just an ordinary mortal, but upon obtaining that flute, he ended up becoming the devil we all hate today."

"…"

Just as the mood of the tavern turns lively, a figure dressed in a dark cloak—with a straw hat over their head, walks in.

To cover the wearer's face, white curtains are stitched to the hat's edges.

"…"

Ignoring the ongoing conversation, the newly arrived guest walks up to the front counter, to which, the tavern owner asks—

"What may I get you, dear guest?"

Placing a few copper taels down, the guest replies—

"Give me some steamed buns."

"Sure thing."

Collecting the taels, the tavern owner gestures at the waiter, who nods and heads into the kitchen.

Momentarily, the waiter returns, and says—

"Dear guest, I recommend you take a seat. We've already ran out of buns. The chef is currently making them from scratch."

"I see."

Looking around, the man seats himself at an empty table.

In the same instance—

"Enough nonsense. Friend, what you said about that surnamed Cuo being seen in Ling Mu Province, is it true?"

"Absolutely. I just came from there after all. Word on the street is, that surnamed Cuo killed the Teng family's young master, while the former was harassing a young lady. Seeing a damsel in distress, the Teng family's young master thought to help, which resulted in surnamed Cuo's identity to be exposed. In a fit of rage, that surnamed Cuo killed the Teng family's young master; and unable to stand such injustice, several sects and practitioner households made attempts to hunt him down. However, after being chased for four days and four nights, that surnamed Cuo managed to escape from his pursuers."

"…So you mean to say that this is already old news? Any leads on where he is currently?"

"…"

Listening to the ongoing conversation, the figure in the dark cloak, who is none other than Cuo Qing Yi himself raises a frown.

According to Cuo Qing Yi's memories, it was none other than the Teng family's young master—who was trying to harass a young lady, and when the former glanced in the latter's direction, the latter whimsically decided to provoke him.

Considering how it was just a trivial matter, Cuo Qing Yi thought to leave, but because that young master was accustomed to acting arrogant, he decided to call his servants over to surround the former.

In the midst of his retaliation to defend himself, Cuo Qing Yi had accidently exposed Mo Xiao—causing the young master and the other practitioners nearby to recognize his identity.

From there, the situation escalated, where numerous sects and practitioner households chased after him for several weeks.

"Leads on that surnamed Cuo's current whereabouts? Coincidentally, he's last seen here—in the Qīngyù Province."

"Oh?"

"Must be because Venerate Ghost Hand's tomb is about to open. The legacy of a demonic practitioner, it must be extremely enticing to someone of the same trade."

"…"

Towards this individual's guess, Cuo Qing Yi smiles in a bitter manner beneath the curtains of his hat, while thinking—

(Seems like this trip will be quite hectic…)

"…"

"…"

Just as this thought crosses Cuo Qing Yi's mind, several individuals walk into the tavern.

Judging by these individuals' identical uniforms, it's rather easy to tell that they all originate from the same sect.

"Seven Star Sword Sect…"

"That old man, and the sword in his hand, he's the Seven Star Sword Saint…"

As the disciples of the sect find places to seat themselves, the sword saint walks over to Cuo Qing Yi's table, and asks—

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"…Go ahead."

Saying this, Cuo Qing Yi prays that the chef will be done with making the steamed buns soon.

Seating himself without letting go of his weapon, the sword saint takes out a bag of dried jerky, and asks—

"Would you like to try some?"

"…No thanks."

As the sword saint shrugs his shoulder, Cuo Qing Yi frowns, while thinking—

(Does this guy suspect me or something?)

Having killed numerous individuals over the years—to defend himself, Cuo Qing Yi isn't able to recall if he has the blood of Seven Star Sword Sect's disciples on his hands or not.

"The scent of blood on you is rather thick."

"…"

"…"

Following the sword saint's words, all eyes within the tavern seem to have focused in on Cuo Qing Yi, who takes in a subtle breath of air.

Maintaining his composure, Cuo Qing Yi is just about to say something, but—

"People tend to take a deeper breath when panic sets in."

(…Why is it that trouble seems to follow me at every turn in this life?)

Over the course of a year, Cuo Qing Yi had been searching for a place to hide himself from the rest of the world—waiting for the day in which death would naturally visit his doorsteps.

However, trouble always seemed to visit him a week at the latest after he settled himself into a place that he believed to be suitable for him to live out the life of a hermit.

A village is unwelcoming towards outsiders—for outsiders were the first to be blamed when incidents occurred.

A random cave in the middle of the mountains, such places tend to draw suspicion when people go missing for any number of reasons.

A wooden hut in the middle of nowhere, those tend to draw attention from practitioners that might be roaming by—for they were commonly used by demonic practitioners, or as beast-kins' bases of operations.

A courtyard-styled home—situated in the middle of the city, with arrogant individuals like the Teng family's young master being a common sight, it would only be a matter of time before something major happens.

"…"

Having learned from his past mistakes of choosing a hiding place, Cuo Qing Yi figured that he would attempt to hide himself within someone else's plundered tomb this time around—believing that once a tomb has been raided, no one else would ever bother to visit it again.

However, even before he could set foot into that tomb—

"…"

"…"

As hostile gleams emanate from the Seven Star Sword Sect's disciples, Cuo Qing Yi's frown deepens, and in the next instance—

"…"

*Qiang…!!!*

"…!"

The sword saint draws his weapon, causing Cuo Qing Yi to leap backwards.

"…"

Straightening his stance, a portion of the curtains on his hat falls—revealing Cuo Qing Yi's face, causing the practitioners within the tavern to widen their eyes.

"The devil himself!"

"That's surnamed Cuo!"

"Mo Xiao is in his hands!"

"…"

Glancing at the front counter, the tavern owner was nowhere to be seen, causing Cuo Qing Yi to mutter—

"Seems like I won't be getting my taels back…"

Taking out Mo Xiao, Cuo Qing Yi raises it towards the practitioners, and warns—

"I'll count to three. Those who continue to remain after that—dies."

Towards Cuo Qing Yi's statement, several practitioners raised a cold snort, and without wasting any time, they charged forth.

"Hand over your life, surnamed Cuo!"

"One."

Evading an attack, Cuo Qing Yi smashes the back of a practitioner's head with the flute, causing the individual's body to tremble—prior to them bursting into a haze of blood.

Without pausing his movements, Cuo Qing Yi continues to approach another practitioner—who has their weapon raised over their head, and stabs the flute onto their chest.

Maintaining his movement speed, Cuo Qing Yi—within the span of a single second, manages to land a hit in on all the practitioners who had dared to charge at him.

"Two."

Following Cuo Qing Yi's second count, the practitioners who had been hit—all of them erupted into a haze of blood, causing the air to reek with the pungent scent of iron.

"Such strength!"

"Seems like the tales of that flute wasn't a joke!"

Seeing a live demonstration of Mo Xiao's strength, the greed in the remaining practitioners' eyes only increased.

"…"

Rising to a stand, the sword saint remarks—

"Such a vile weapon, a magic treasure of this nature would be better off destroyed. As for you—having stained yourself in so much blood, there's no room for redemption."

Towards the sword saint, Cuo Qing Yi asks—

"Do you think I wanted to stain my hands in blood? Did it never cross your mind that it was all a means of self-defense?"

"Self-defense? Hearing this from the devil himself, how laughable."

"Three."

Having made this announcement, Cuo Qing Yi blows into the flute, causing tendrils of dark mist to erupt from the instrument.

In the next instance—

*…!!! …!!! …!!!* these tendrils of dark mist lunge forward, and as they explosively expand in volume, they cover the entirety of the tavern.

As screams of agony go off, the scent of iron becomes much more nauseating, and by the time Cuo Qing Yi had ceased his performance—

"...…"

Silence looms in the air, as weapons and bloodstained articles of clothing litter the ground.

Turning his body away from the sight, and heading into the tavern's kitchen, Cuo Qing Yi sees that the place is devoid of blood.

From the looks of it, the tavern's staff had all fled ahead of time.

"…"

Approaching a basin of clean water, Cuo Qing Yi washes his unsoiled hands in it.

Wiping his hands dry, he turns to the large bamboo steamer, and lifting the lid, Cuo Qing Yi sees several freshly-made steamed buns in it.

"…"

Taking an appropriate number of steamed buns—that would match the amount of copper taels that had been given to the tavern's owner, Cuo Qing Yi stores all but one into his storage pouch. 

"…"

Biting into the steamed bun, Cuo Qing Yi tastes blood.

"…"

For a brief instance, he freezes, and parts the bun from his lips.

"…"

Staring at the bitten bun, there was no blood, nor any traces of red to be found, and yet, the taste was definitely iron-like.

"…Recently, wine has started to taste like blood, and now...… Food as well it would seem…"

It's unclear as to what the cause for this is, but as far as Cuo Qing Yi is aware of, this cannot be the effect of a curse—for he was already under the effect of a curse that mortals cannot ever hope to challenge.