The Pact at Ghost Corpse Mountain

Yang Fan had been cultivating in the world of immortals for over a decade and had experienced soaring through the skies on his flying sword, but being carried in a sedan chair was a first. As he sat inside the sedan, which had just entered the grand courtyard of Rain Mist Manor, he felt the curious gazes from those outside. It was unusual to see a sedan chair within the manor walls.

"Could this be the manor's way of showing respect to apothecaries?" Yang Fan wondered, a hint of doubt crossing his mind. He lifted the curtain and asked, "Where are we headed?"

One of the servants smiled and replied, "Word has already been sent. You will understand soon enough, Apothecary Yang."

Nodding slightly, Yang Fan released the curtain and allowed his consciousness to merge with the mysterious energy of the *Xian Hong Jue*, his mind blending with the surrounding space. He expanded his spiritual sense, covering a radius of two hundred feet, and keenly observed the movements, expressions, and conversations of the mortals and cultivators nearby.

"Who is that person in the sedan? I caught a glimpse of him just now. A young man, quite handsome. Hard to imagine someone so young would be granted such treatment," one of the cultivators in the initial stages of *Qi Refinement* murmured in surprise.

"I heard that several apothecaries with exceptional medical skills have arrived at the manor recently, and they've all been given similar treatment. Could this young man also be an esteemed apothecary?" another person speculated.

"Impossible! How could a renowned physician be so young? He's likely a noble scion from some powerful clan," a skeptic interjected.

The mortals and a few *Qi Refinement* cultivators outside the sedan began to speculate about Yang Fan's identity, their curiosity piqued.

Yang Fan chuckled to himself. It seemed that no matter where you were, no matter the status, there would always be those who delighted in gossip.

After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the sedan entered an elegant and stately manor before finally coming to a halt.

"Apothecary Yang, please."

Two *Qi Refinement* servants bowed low, inviting Yang Fan to disembark.

Just as he stepped down from the sedan, a voice as clear and cheerful as the ringing of silver bells echoed toward him, "Hehe, Apothecary Yang has finally arrived! Today's the day we set off, and I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

Standing before him, in a long gown of soft, pale yellow, was Chu Yuyan, her radiant smile making her delicate features bloom like a flower. There was clear joy in her crystal-clear eyes.

"So it's Miss Chu," Yang Fan said with practiced politeness. "How could I, a mere humble apothecary, be worthy of such a personal welcome from you?"

"Yuyan, is this the Apothecary Yang you've spoken of?" came a deep, magnetic voice from another corner of the courtyard, cold yet steady.

Yang Fan glanced over to see a young man dressed in a robe of purple jade, his gaze assessing him with thinly veiled disdain. The young man was striking—tall, with sword-like brows and deep, penetrating eyes—but beneath his poised exterior lay an unmistakable pride, the kind that came from a long-held position of authority.

"This is my elder brother, Chu Qiuran," Chu Yuyan introduced with a smile.

Chu Qiuran stepped forward and offered a polite, if somewhat reserved, smile. "Welcome to Rain Mist Manor, Apothecary Yang. I hope you will assist us in the trial at Ghost Corpse Mountain."

With a single glance, Yang Fan gauged the man's cultivation level and was slightly taken aback—Chu Qiuran had already reached the *Spirit Consolidation* stage. It was no wonder he carried himself with such confidence.

It had only been half a year since Yang Fan last visited Rain Mist Manor, and already, a third-generation disciple had broken through to the *Spirit Consolidation* stage.

"You honor me, Young Master Chu," Yang Fan said, his reply measured. "I'm merely a humble apothecary."

"Very well, now that Apothecary Yang has arrived, let's gather everyone and prepare to depart," Chu Qiuran said, casting only a brief glance at Yang Fan before dismissing him. If not for his sister's insistence, and Apothecary Zheng's strong recommendation, he wouldn't have invited Yang Fan to partake in such an important trial.

Soon, at Chu Qiuran's command, several disciples of the manor's third generation began to gather in the courtyard. As Yang Fan made casual conversation with Chu Yuyan, he observed the other disciples.

It was clear that Chu Yuyan harbored some fondness for him. Her behavior was notably warm and proactive, answering his questions with enthusiasm, even revealing details about the secrets of Rain Mist Manor.

"All the disciples participating in the trial are at least at the mid-stage of *Qi Refinement*," Yang Fan noted to himself, scanning the group. He could see that the quality of these disciples was significantly higher than those from the Yang Family Fort, with some even exuding an aura of battle-hardened experience.

No wonder Rain Mist Manor held trials every few years, even at the risk of losing disciples. The trials were a test of real combat, where they faced the edge of life and death. It was a blood-soaked baptism, and those participating couldn't afford to be careless.

In no time, over twenty third-generation disciples had gathered in the courtyard.

"Ah... The trial... It's really starting?"

An odd, grating voice interrupted the gathering, causing everyone to turn their heads, glancing with a mixture of reverence and curiosity.

The voice belonged to a particularly ugly youth, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Unlike the others who stood respectfully in the courtyard's center, this boy looked entirely out of place. His robes were tattered, his eyes small like tadpoles, his nose crooked, and his thick lips and unruly hair gave him the appearance of a vagabond.

Chu Qiuran frowned, but chose to ignore the youth. He addressed the gathered disciples instead. "Once the apothecaries arrive, we will head directly to Ghost Corpse Mountain. I will be in charge of this trial. Anyone who disobeys my orders will face severe punishment."

His eyes briefly flickered toward the ugly youth, a warning in their depths.

The grotesque boy seemed not to notice. He was busy picking his nose with one hand, while his bare foot dangled from a worn shoe, exuding an unpleasant stench.

Yang Fan found his gaze drawn to the youth. Despite his appearance, this boy had reached the *Spirit Consolidation* stage—and at such a young age.

"When did Rain Mist Manor produce not one, but *two* *Spirit Consolidation* disciples?" Yang Fan wondered, surprised. The last time he was here, no third-generation disciple had progressed beyond the *Qi Refinement* stage.

It was natural for Chu Qiuran to have advanced, given how long he'd been at the peak of *Qi Refinement*. But this ugly boy was another story altogether.

Sensing Yang Fan's curiosity, Chu Yuyan whispered to him, "His name is Hu Fei. Four or five years ago, he was just a vagrant, until a cultivator from the Yang Family Fort discovered he had an affinity for the earth element—a superior *Earth Spirit Root*, no less. My father took him in as a disciple, and his cultivation has shocked everyone. In just a few years, he broke through from mid-stage *Qi Refinement* to *Spirit Consolidation* within the last month, with the help of a *Middle-grade Essence Pill*."

"*Spirit Consolidation* in just a few years? That's... unheard of," Yang Fan murmured, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Even with such a pill, no mere *Earth Spirit Root* should allow for such rapid progression. It defied reason.

Could this boy possess an even more exceptional talent—a *Heaven Spirit Root*?

As Yang Fan pondered, the boy suddenly looked up, meeting his gaze with an almost feral intensity. Then, unexpectedly, Hu Fei grinned wildly, baring his teeth. He raised his fists and, from afar, waved them at Yang Fan in a mock challenge, his expression brimming with provocation, almost as if he were taunting him.

Yang Fan blinked, baffled. "Is this supposed to be some kind of… challenge? Or is he just a fool?"

Leaning closer, Chu Yuyan whispered again, "Don't mind him, young master. Hu Fei may be a prodigy, but he's… a bit eccentric. Some even say his mind isn't quite right…"

"So, he really *is* a fool," Yang Fan mused, his confusion turning into mild pity as he ignored Hu Fei's bizarre antics.

But before Yang Fan could give the boy another thought, everything changed. In an instant, Hu Fei's expression darkened, and he charged at Yang Fan with explosive fury.