Chapter 85: This Venerable One Isn’t Someone You Can Get Rid of so Easily with Just Fifteen Hundred Gold

The innkeeper's apologetic voice drifted over: "Goodness, my lord is so generous, five hundred just like that, this humble one is so flattered! But we really must be courteous to all our guests if we hope to keep doing business, so we can't just hustle everyone else out, you see. How about this, we have a spacious private room inside called the Guiwu Pavilion, it's reserved just for honored guests of means like yourself, let me show——" She didn't even get to finish the sentence before there was a loud clattering of tables and chairs being overturned.

"What even is there to see! Who the hell cares about your Guiwu [Returning Fog] Pavilion or Wugui [Tortoise; also slang for cuckold] Pavilion——god damn,

what kinda shitty name… don't want it! Get rid of them and we'll pay you a thousand!" "Aw, but my lord looks like such a scholarly, reasonable person, surely he won't force such a difficult decision on this humble one, right?" The innkeep lied through her teeth without so much as batting an eye, simpering coyly, "There are really too many guests here already, if my lord dislikes Guiwu Pavilion, I can certainly offer another room, it's a little smaller but just as elegant, and I'll throw in an entertainment package with song and dance, free of charge, how's that?"   "No! Absolutely not! Fifteen hundred! Tell 'em all to get lost!" The boorish voice bellowed, "Quit dragging your feet! Our young master will be cross if the place isn't ready when he gets here!"   "Wow——" A thousand gold might be a lot to the average person, but it was a laughable amount to the once-emperor of the mortal realm—just the trinkets he used to casually throw at Song Qiutong to humor her were priceless treasures. And so his eyes were round with amusement as he chewed idly on his chopstick, laughing to Chu Wanning in a low voice, "Shizun Shizun, check it out, that dude thinks he can get rid of us with just fifteen hundred."   Chu Wanning shot him a glance, then lifted the bamboo curtain to look downstairs.

There was a crowd in the main hall. They were dressed in plain clothes that concealed their sect, but every one of them had a high-quality blade glinting at their waist and a faewolf slobbering by their side. The value of the blades were indeterminate, while the faewolves had a market price but were next to impossible to come by—getting just one was already no small feat for a minor sect; for these people to each have one, they were clearly from a prestigious sect.

All the guests stopped eating to stare apprehensively at them. It was so quiet inside the hall that one could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, a white blur flashed into the inn, bright as snow. There was a beat of silence as everyone took in what it was, then a burst of frantic clamoring as all of them scrambled backwards away from it, with the more easily spooked people shrieking: "M-monster!!" It was a snow-white faewolf, at least three people tall, eyes crimson as blood, coat glossy as satin, fangs the length of a grown man's arm glistening coldly.

But on that massive, vicious beast sat a handsome young man with an arrogant expression, casually reclined with one leg over the other. He was dressed in a set of sleek hunting gear over scarlet raiments with goldembroidered sleeves, and had on a silver helmet emblazoned with a lion swallowing the sun, a lock of red tassel hanging from its crown. His weapon, a jasper bow, laid over his knees.

As soon as those showy cultivators saw him, all of them dropped to one knee with hand pressed to their chest, saying in unison: "Greeting the young master!"   "Alright, already." The young man waved his hand, looking irritated, "Can't even take care of a little thing like this, greeting my ass!"   "Pfft." Mo Ran couldn't help laughing as he remarked quietly to Chu Wanning, "If they're greeting ass, then doesn't that make him the ass?" "..." The young man sitting stop the soft fur at the faewolf's nape looked cross indeed: "Where's the boss of this shabby place?" The innkeeper was frightened, but still stepped up with forced calmness,

smiling apologetically: "That wold be this humble one, my lord."   "Oh." He shot her a glance, "I'm going to stay here tonight, but I'm not used to having this many people around. Have a talk with them, I'll make up your losses." "But my lord..." "I know it puts you in a tough spot. Here, take this and give each table an apology on my behalf. And if anyone really doesn't want to leave, then just let them be." He tossed the innkeeper a pouch, and she opened it to find it filled with golden nine-turn returning pills—these pills allow the taker's cultivation to grow in leaps and bounds for ten days, and a single pill cost more than two thousand gold on the market. The innkeeper was shocked by this extravagant display at first, and then discreetly breathed a sigh of relief.

No cultivator would turn down something like this; with these pills, it would be perfectly acceptable to ask everyone to leave.

The innkeeper went around the tables apologizing and compensating, and the young man yawned before glaring down at his attendants: "The lot of you are all useless, do I really have to do everything myself." The attendants looked at one another, then there was a scattering of "...Gongzi is ever brilliant and indomitable."   The guests dispersed in short order; other than Chu Wanning and Mo Ran,

who didn't care for money or cultivation pills, everyone else accepted the recompense and left with zero complaints to go stay elsewhere instead.

The innkeeper reported back: "Gongzi, everyone left, but two guests declined, saying it's already late and one of them is unwell, so they don't want to go elsewhere..." "Nevermind them, no need to hassle an invalid." The young man waved his hand, unconcerned, "Long as they don't bother me." Chu Wanning, the invalid: "..."   The innkeeper beamed and said warmly: "Gongzi is such a kind person. It's getting late, would Gongzi like to rest or have something to eat first?" The young man replied:

"I'm hungry. No need for rest, bring me a meal."

"Of course, my humble store will certainly bring Gongzi only the best. Our chef's signature dishes are crab [xie fen] metaball, pork trotter aspic..." "Angry [also pronounced xie fen] meatball?" The young man was clearly not from the south and didn't much care for southern dishes. He blinked at the name of the dish, then waved his hand with a frown, "Pass, can't even understand these ridiculous names."   Maybe he was just some insanely rich merchant, and not a high-born young master after all.

Innkeep: "...Then what would Gongzi like? We will do our utmost." "Easy." The young man gestured at his attendants, "Five catties of beef for each of them, ten for me, and then a catty of soju and two legs of lamb. That'll do, just to tide us over, shouldn't eat too much late at night anyway." Mo Ran: "Wow..."   He turned to Chu Wanning, thinking to make fun of the guy's bottomless appetite, only to find Chu Wanning staring fixedly at the young man with a hazy,

indecipherable expression.

Mo Ran asked absently: "Shizun seems to know him?" "Mn." He was just offhandedly asking, and hadn't expected Chu Wanning to actually know him. Mo Ran tripped over his words in surprise: "Wha? Th-then who is he?" "The only son of Rufeng Sect's leader." Chu Wanning said softly, "Nangong Si." "..." No wonder Chu Wanning knew him, he used to be with Linyi Rufeng Sect after all, of course he would know what the sect leader's son looked like.

And it was also no wonder that he himself didn't know the guy, since he was already dead from some illness when he was going around butchering Rufeng Sect in the previous lifetime.

Back then, he had thought that this son of the sect leader must've been some sickly cripple, but the guy in front of him now was healthy, lively, and had ego to spare.

…...How could a guy like this die of illness? Some kind of sudden plague maybe?

Downstairs, Nangong Si was digging in happily, inhaling all ten catties of beef and both legs of lamb in no time at all, and gulping down no few bowls of wine on top. Mo Ran watched speechlessly from upstairs.

"Shizun, isn't Rufeng Sect all about refinement and stuff? What's up with their young master then? He's even less proper than our Xue Mengmeng." Chu Wanning shoved his head away from where it had nosed over, even though his own face was still turned to peer at the scene downstairs: "Don't just make up nicknames for your fellow disciples as you like."   Mo Ran laughed 'hehe' and was just about to say something else when he paused, suddenly realizing something. Chu Wanning's finger was pressed against his forehead, pushing him away, his sleeve draping softly over his face like a wisp of mist in the process; it was made of some kind of extremely light material, like silk or satin but not quite, and felt both warm and cool, almost like water.

Back in the room earlier, when he was reeling with desire and couldn't get Chu Wanning's robes off, he thought it was just on too tight.

But looking carefully at it now, Mo Ran discovered that the robes were actually made of "frozen mist silk" from Kunlun Taxue Palace.

Kunlun Taxue Palace was the most aloof and detached sect in the upper cultivation realm; its disciples were inducted at five, and were sent into secluded cultivation in the sacred land of Kunlun one year later, where they must stay until they manage to cultivate their spiritual cores. Although spiritual core was innate and the cultivation was just to awaken it, it was still a long process that often took ten to fifteen years. Since others were barred entry during this time, the disciples' needs became a problem—food was one thing, since the sacred land was adjacent the Wangmu Lake so the Taxue Palace disciples could always go fishing for food, but it's not like they could just weave their own clothes.

And so the "frozen mist silk" was created.

Clothes made from this silk were not only light as mist, they were also naturally enchanted to be unstainable by common dust and grime so as to not need washing unless splashed by things like blood.

But the most amazing property of this silk was its ability to morph in accordance with the wearer's body, which was absolutely necessary for the disciples of Taxue Palace who enter the sacred land as small children at five,

and couldn't leave until they were young adults of fifteen or twenty. Clothes made of "frozen mist silk" would grow with them so that they have fitting clothes during those long years.

——But what was Chu Wanning doing wearing robes made of this special material?

Mo Ran squinted, a spark flashing through his mind. He suddenly felt like something was off, like he had been mistaken about something from the very start, but what was it…...

"Excuse me, may I ask where the innkeeper is?" Mo Ran's thoughts were interrupted by a confident yet friendly and courteous voice.

He looked down to see the group Rufeng Sect disciples that were at Xuanyuan Pavilion earlier. The one at their lead was leaning halfway inside,

heron-patterned mantle lightly adrift as he held the door curtain open with his sword.

"Aren't they Ye Wangxi's people?" Mo Ran perked up immediately.

Rufeng Sect had seventy two cities, so its disciples often didn't even know one another, and Nangong Si was sitting by himself in a private room with his back to the door, so the group of newcomers glanced over their fellow disciples of the same sect inside the inn, dressed in plain clothes, and didn't recognize any of them.

Ye Wangxi vs Nangong Si, this was sure to be entertaining.

"My apologies, but we've already been reserved for tonight." The innkeeper hurried over while silently cursing herself for forgetting to close shop, "Please look elsewhere, we're truly so sorry." The young man at the lead looked troubled: "Sigh, what to do…we've already checked the other inns, they're all full up. There's a frail young lady with us who's in dire need of some rest, so we were hoping to find somewhere for her to get a good night's sleep. May I trouble you to ask if the one who reserved this inn would consider letting us have a few rooms?" "That…... he probably won't be willing."

The young man bowed and implored politely: "Please ask anyway. It's alright if he's unwilling." The innkeeper didn't even get a chance to respond when one of Nangong Si's attendants at a table nearby slapped the table and stood up in a rage: "What is there to ask! Get out, out! Don't disturb our young master while he's eating!"   "That's right! Aren't you embarrassed, taking a woman to bed while wearing Rufeng Sect's uniform, dragging your sect name through the mud!"   The young man hadn't expected such a misunderstanding, turning bright red as he said indignantly: "Why do you slander us so? We of Rufeng Sect have always been principled and virtuous, of course we wouldn't conduct any such impropriety. This young lady was kindly saved by our young master, how dare you speak such nonsense?" "Your young master?" Nangong Si's attendant glanced toward the private room, and, seeing that his young master was still drinking his wine, taking no notice of them, took it as silent permission to chase them out, so he relaxed and snickered loudly, "Everyone knows there's only one young master of Rufeng Sect, so I wonder who this young master of yours is?"   "That would be me, Ye Wangxi of Rufeng Sect." A gentle, graceful voice sounded from outside the door.

Every head in the room turned toward the door: "Ye-gongzi——"   Ye Wangx was dressed in all black, his handsome face taking on a note of delicacy in the candle light. He stepped inside, followed by a veiled woman with nervous eyes—Song Qiutong.

"..." The vein at Mo Ran's temple throbbed viciously at the mere sight of her.

Her again. Just his luck…...

Nangong Si's attendants were momentarily taken aback by Ye Wangxi's appearance, then contempt surfaced on the faces of some of the less-composed ones.

Ye Wangxi was the adopted son of Rufeng Sect's chief elder, and used to be attached to the the sect's "shadow city." As implied by the name, the shadow city specialized in training the shadow guard[5]. The leader of Rufeng Sect was originally having him trained to be the next leader of the shadow guard, but his cultivation nature turned out to be unsuitable for the cultivation method of the shadow guard, so he was reassigned to the main city and now acted as the sect leader's right-hand man.

Due to his upbringing as a shadow guard, Ye Wangxi habitually kept a low profile, and very few people knew of him. However, the sect leader regarded him extremely highly, so much so that, in recent years, there had even been rumors within the sect that Ye Wangxi was actually the sect leader's bastard child.

Perhaps because of this, Nangong Si, the legitimate heir, was on bad terms with Ye Wangxi.

Since their young master disliked him, it was only natural that the attendants had low opinions of him as well.

They were junior to Ye-gongzi and technically shouldn't offend him, but they were Nangong Si's personal attendants and reported directly to him, so after a long moment of awkward, frozen silence, a less reserved one of the attendants laughed coldly and said: "Well, Ye-gongzi, please take your leave, I'm afraid there's no place for you here."

"Gongzi, since they already said there's no space, l-let's go look elsewhere." Song Qiutong tugged at the hem of Ye Wangxi's clothes with slender fingers, a note of fright in her voice, "And this place is so expensive, I dare not waste any more of Gongzi's money..."   Upstairs, Mo Ran rolled his eyes—it's always that weak, pitiful-sounding tone with her; she had tricked him with it back then, and now she was tricking Ye Wangxi the same way.

Ye Wangxi was just about to speak when an enormous white shadow darted out from the inner room, headed straight for Ye Wangxi's back.

Song Qiutong called out in alarm: "Gongzi watch out!!!"   "Awoooooh! Woooooh!!!" Howling loudly, a snow white faewolf bolted to Ye Wangxi and started running circles around him excitedly.

"..." Everyone was silent.

Ye Wangxi looked down at the three-people-tall faewolf that was currently rolling around on the floor stickily, surprised: "Naobaijin?"     It was Nangong Si's faewolf mount, named Naobaijin [cornelian platinum/white-gold] for its scarlet eyes the color of cornelian, its coat white as snow, and the gold of its claws.

If Naobaijin was here, then so was Nangong Si. Ye Wangxi obliged the big furry head that was nudging over for pats while looking around.

Shaa—— The bamboo curtain was lifted by a hand extending from a scarlet, goldembroidered sleeve.

Leaning idly against the wall of the private room with his arms crossed,

irritated expression half-covered by the bamboo curtain, and still holding a bottle of wine in hand, Nangong Si shot Ye Wangxi a glance and sneered: "Interesting,

why do you always show up wherever I go? With the way you're always trailing after me, where am I to put my face if people start gossiping about us?"

Author's Notes:

Wolf cub: I'll give you five hundred, leave.

Pupper: No.

Wolf cub: I'll give you a thousand, leave!

Pupper: No!

Wolf cub: I'll give you a thousand five hundred! Are you going to leave!

Pupper: In my previous life, this entire world was this venerable one's, you can shut it, you short-lived bastard!

Wolf cub: You dare insult me! *&#!&* Awooo!!!!!!

Pupper: Woof woof arf arf arf!!

Lady boss: 'Ello? Animal Control? There are two rabid dogs fighting in my shop, yes, one's a husky, another's an Alaskan...yes, yes, yes, that Alaskan is also carrying a Samoyed called Naobaijin...yes, all three look like they've never gotten their rabies shot, very dangerous…  

[5] Elite guards responsible for guarding their master's safety and things like assassination and spying