The Mysterious Guest
"Who are you?"
Yang Fan remained unfazed, narrowing his eyes slightly as he scrutinized the shadow before him. Clad in black, with a mask obscuring his features save for his piercing eyes, the figure emanated a chilling aura reminiscent of a ravenous wolf, instilling fear in those who dared to gaze upon him.
"I am here to take your life!" The masked figure spat out coldly, his form blurring as he suddenly lunged toward Yang Fan, unleashing a powerful palm strike that seemed to compress the air itself, slicing through the stillness with a crackling force.
Such speed and agility far exceeded that of the ordinary practitioners of the Qi Refining stage.
A congenital warrior!
A flicker of surprise crossed Yang Fan's eyes as he made a slight movement, deftly evading the lightning-quick attack.
The black-clad assailant, surprised by Yang Fan's nonchalance in avoiding his strike, felt a twinge of anxiety. He retracted his initial contempt and summoned forth a more formidable aura. As he moved his fists, ethereal shadows coalesced around him, accompanied by thunderous sounds and flickering crimson lights.
The might of a congenital warrior was not to be underestimated; even a cultivator struck directly would find the consequences dire.
Activating his omniscient mode, Yang Fan attained mastery over the surrounding area, perceiving every detail—the rustle of leaves, the assailant's heartbeat, his breaths, the flow of blood, even the circulation of his inner energy—lay bare before him.
In this state, he found himself in an invincible position.
Yet, Yang Fan held no intention of counterattacking just yet. He remained in place, making subtle movements to "loosen his muscles." Each step and sidestep was executed with precision, allowing him to narrowly evade the onslaught of strikes.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The black-clad warrior's relentless barrage failed to even graze the hem of Yang Fan's garments.
As the fight progressed, the assailant resorted to unleashing true fire, creating a magnificent spectacle filled with faint red energy that shimmered in the void. Each blow could effortlessly shatter stone tablets or sever iron.
However, with every attempt, the warrior grew increasingly alarmed and desperate; no matter how fiercely he attacked, he could not touch the opponent who was so tantalizingly close.
"What level of master is he…?" The black-clad man's heart quaked with fear as thoughts of retreat crept into his mind. With a sudden roar, he thrust both palms forward, manifesting a swirling torrent of crimson energy that pressured the space around him.
Simultaneously, he leaped into the air, attempting to escape.
"Where do you think you're going?" Yang Fan sneered, already anticipating the move. He soared upwards, evading the fiery wave, and seized the assailant's ankle.
"Get off!" The masked man shouted in horror, channeling his strength to kick Yang Fan away.
But in the next moment, he felt a sudden numbness spread through his leg, rendering him senseless as he crashed heavily to the ground.
Boom!
The black-clad figure landed with a resounding thud, finding himself in a most undignified position.
Yang Fan dusted off his hands, regarding him with a leisurely gaze, a playful smile creeping onto his face. "Still want to run? If you do, I'll break your legs. Now tell me, who sent you?"
"Ah!"
The black-clad man, scrambling to his feet, paled at the threat and froze in place.
He was no fool; he recognized that this young man before him was clearly on a level above his own. If the man wished to kill him, it would be as effortless as a flick of the wrist.
"You won't speak?" Yang Fan's smile grew more radiant.
"Please spare me, my lord!"
The masked man stammered, his face ashen. "I acted alone… I failed to recognize your greatness and dared to attack you."
"Oh? Is that so?" Yang Fan replied, his tone indifferent.
"Yes!" The black-clad man nodded vigorously.
"Very well, you may leave."
With a casual wave of his sleeve, Yang Fan delivered an immense force that sent the man flying.
Whoosh! The masked figure transformed into a dark streak, soaring into the sky, his soul seemingly leaving his body. He let out a piercing scream, terrified.
Plop!
After a long moment, the sound of something splashing into the water echoed from afar.
After swatting away this insignificant fly, Yang Fan wore a smirk of mockery, murmuring to himself, "The Yan Prince's residence, am I to be trifled with? Sending a lowly figure to test my strength."
A glint of coldness flashed in his eyes. "If such occurrences happen again, do not blame me for being merciless."
With that, he made his way toward Elder Cheng's abode.
Just as he stepped out a few paces, an amiable elder approached him, bowing deeply. "Yang the Physician, this way please. The Prince has arranged accommodations for you."
"Oh?" Yang Fan nodded, inquiring, "What is your position in the Prince's residence?"
"Replying to the Physician, I am merely a steward here, unworthy of mention, seeking only to serve the Prince with utmost diligence." The elder spoke with great humility.
A mere steward? This old fellow was truly modest.
To be the steward of the grand Yan Prince's residence, he could hardly be an ordinary individual—most likely, he was one of the Prince's trusted confidants.
"Very well, lead the way."
Yang Fan followed the steward.
After walking a short distance, Yang Fan suddenly paused, puzzled. "Where are you taking me? I sense we are headed towards the Second Princess's quarters?"
Logically, the Prince should have arranged for him to stay in the guest quarters.
The steward chuckled, "The Prince has arranged your accommodations at 'Xinning Residence' for your convenience in treating the Second Princess."
"Oh?" Yang Fan nodded in understanding. "The scenery there is quite tranquil, but it does limit my interaction with the other guests at the Prince's residence."
"Once the young lady's ailment is addressed, the Physician may stay wherever he wishes. The Prince will accommodate your needs. Of course, if you prefer to change locations, the residence will strive to oblige."
The steward spoke with utmost courtesy and respect, treating Yang Fan with deference on par with the Prince, Yuwen Lie.
Yang Fan contemplated for a moment before responding, "That sounds acceptable. Were it not for my interest in Miss Yuwen's illness, I might have departed from the Prince's residence already."
The steward felt a wave of relief at these words and led Yang Fan to the serene "Xinning Residence," nestled beside the mountains and waters.
"This place is all prepared for you; please, Physician."
The steward brought Yang Fan to a delicate pavilion, where servants and maidens awaited.
"Dismiss all the servants here; leave only one to attend to my needs."
Yang Fan scanned the crowd and spoke with a calm demeanor.
"As you wish." The steward's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, and he complied by sending away all the servants, retaining only a sharp-witted attendant.
"Now you all leave as well; no one is allowed near my residence without my permission."
Yang Fan continued to issue orders.
"Understood."
The steward and the attendant withdrew.
Alone in his guest room, Yang Fan lit no lamps, first establishing a barrier around the space before seating himself on the bed.
Normally, he would begin meditative training, but he suddenly thought, "My demonic skills have reached an impasse, and the Nether Flame has only just begun to take shape. Achieving mastery in the Poison Arts has been equally challenging…"
"Since I am in this mortal realm, why not take a moment to enjoy a good sleep?"
With this thought, Yang Fan stretched lazily and flopped onto the bed, soon succumbing to deep slumber.
As the night wore on, in a certain grand hall of the Yan Prince's residence, a tall figure adorned in a purple robe patterned with dragon motifs stood with hands clasped behind his back, facing away from the black-clad figure kneeling beside him.
"My lord, I failed in my duty; he is indeed unfathomable, and I couldn't even graze his clothing."
The black-clad man spoke, shame washing over him.
"I have seen it all…" Yuwen Lie sighed deeply, turning to face him. "You are, after all, a congenital warrior of the mortal realm. Even those of the Qi Refining stage are not your match, and you have previously eliminated cultivators without difficulty. Yet this time, you couldn't even grasp the essence of your opponent…"
"It is all my fault," the black-clad man murmured. "Perhaps the lord should send the most skilled members, the Shadow and Illusion Kings…"
"No need. None of the members of 'Dark Division 7' may act without my explicit command. This attempt at probing was disrespectful to our esteemed guest, and he surely understands…"
"Should you act again, the consequences will be unthinkable."
"Yes, my lord, I understand completely." The black-clad man acknowledged.
"You may take your leave; summon the Shadow and Illusion Kings to me."
The Prince commanded.
"Understood."
The black-clad man vanished like a fleeting shadow from the grand hall. At the mention of the Shadow and Illusion Kings, he couldn't help but shudder.
As fellow members of the "Dark Division," he understood.