Hmm... Now that his soul had returned, did his profound cultivation from his past life also come back with it?
Mo Ran activated his spell and sensed the surge of spiritual energy within him. Although it was abundant, it wasn't powerful. In other words, his cultivation hadn't carried over.
But that didn't bother him much. He was exceptionally talented and had a high comprehension ability. He could simply start his cultivation anew, and there was nothing extraordinary about that. Moreover, being reborn was a great joyous event, and even with some minor shortcomings, it was all normal. With these thoughts in mind, Mo Ran quickly suppressed his darkness and viciousness, transforming into the appearance of a normal fifteen-year-old boy. He happily prepared to return to his sect.
The summer ambiance was thick in the outskirts of the city. Occasionally, carriages and horses passed by, rolling wheels and nobody paid attention to the fifteen-year-old Mo Ran.
Only occasionally, busy village women, taking a moment to wipe sweat from their brows, caught sight of the unusually handsome youth. Their eyes brightened, and they stared at him for a moment.
Mo Ran smiled back without hesitation, unabashedly returning their gazes. This made the married women blush and lower their heads.
In the evening, Mo Ran arrived at Wuchang Town, which was close to the boundary between life and death. In the twilight, a red sun hung in the sky like blood, casting fiery clouds against towering peaks. Feeling hungry, he instinctively went to a familiar restaurant and glanced at the menu with its row of black characters on a red background. He tapped the counter and swiftly placed his order, saying, "Innkeeper, bring me a roasted chicken, a plate of spicy beef slices, two pounds of strong liquor, and also a plate of sliced beef."
The restaurant was crowded with people taking a break, and a storyteller was fanning himself on a small stage, narrating stories about the boundary between life and death. He spoke with great enthusiasm, spitting as he gestured.
Mo Ran took a private room by the window and listened to the storytelling while having his meal.
"As everyone knows, in our cultivation world, we are divided into two regions based on geography: the Upper Realm and the Lower Realm. Today, let me tell you about the most remarkable sect in the Lower Realm, the Death Peak. Heh, you see, our Wuchang Town used to be a desolate and turbulent impoverished little town a hundred years ago. After dark, the villagers dared not leave their homes because it was close to the entrance of the ghost realm. If they had to travel at night, they had to shake their demon-repelling bells, sprinkle ash and paper money, and chant, 'People come, separate with mountains; ghosts come, separate with paper.' They had to pass through quickly. But now, our town is bustling and no different from elsewhere, thanks to the care and protection of Death Peak. This immortal abode is perfectly situated at the entrance of the Ghost Gate, spanning between the Yin and Yang realms. Although the sect was established not long ago, it..."
Mo Ran's ears were almost calloused from listening to this historical account. Thus, he began to lose interest and started gazing absentmindedly out the window. Coincidentally, there was a stall set up downstairs, and several people dressed as Taoist priests were performing tricks and selling their skills, with a black-clothed cage covering their display.
This seemed more interesting than the old storyteller.
Mo Ran's attention was drawn to it.
"Come and see! Behold, this is a young beast called Pixiu, a fierce ancient creature, tamed by us. Now, it's as obedient as a child, capable of acrobatics and calculations! It's not easy to uphold justice and chivalry. For those who have money, donate generously; for those without money, just show your appreciation. Come and witness the first act—Pixiu abacus performance!"
The Taoist priests suddenly unveiled the black cloth, revealing several bear-faced creatures in the cage.
Mo Ran: "......"
These were just some docile bear cubs with low brows and gentle eyes. They dared to claim they were Pixiu?
This exaggeration was beyond belief. Who would trust such nonsense?
But it didn't take long for Mo Ran to realize his mistake. Two or three dozen people gathered around them, applauding and cheering. The lively atmosphere even attracted the attention of the restaurant patrons, making the storyteller feel embarrassed.
"Now, let's talk about the esteemed master of the pinnacle of life and death, who has a resounding reputation..."
"Great! Give us another segment!"
Unbeknownst to the storyteller, behind the curtain, Mo Ran, the young master of the pinnacle of life and death, smiled and calmly shouted, "Enough with the tales of life and death. Tell us a story about 'The Eighteen Touches,' and I guarantee everyone will be captivated."
The storyteller, unaware that the person behind the curtain was Mo Ran, resolutely retorted, "Such crude and vulgar words don't belong to the realm of refinement."
Mo Ran smiled and said, "And this place is considered a refined setting? You're not ashamed of yourself."
After speaking, they suddenly heard a commotion downstairs.
"Oh no! Such a fast horse!"
"It must be the Immortal Lord of Sisheng Peak!"
Amidst the discussions, a black horse rushed in from the direction of Sisheng Peak, galloping like lightning, and entered the performance area!
On the horse sat two individuals. One wore a black hat and a black cloak that covered them completely, making it impossible to discern their age or gender. The other was a woman in her thirties or forties, with rough hands and feet, weathered by the wind and frost.
When the woman saw those bear-like creatures, she burst into tears. She dismounted and stumbled her way towards them, falling and scrambling. She embraced one of the bear-like creatures and knelt on the ground, wailing, "My child! My dear child!"
The people around were bewildered. Someone scratched their head and murmured, "Hey? Isn't this the cub of the ancient divine beast Pixiu? Why is this woman calling it her child?"
"Could this be the female Pixiu?"
"Oh my, how formidable! This female Pixiu has even achieved human form."
The villagers on this side were ignorant, babbling nonsense, but Mo Ran figured it out.
According to legend, some wandering Taoists would deceive children, pluck out their tongues to silence them, scald their skin with boiling water, and while the flesh was still raw, they would stick animal fur on them. After the fresh blood coagulated, the fur and the child would be fused together, appearing no different from monsters. These children couldn't speak or write, and they could only endure being bullied while performing tricks like the "Pixiu Abacus." If they resisted, they would be subjected to beatings with sticks and whips.
No wonder Mo Ran couldn't sense any demonic energy earlier. These "Pixiu" were not demons at all, but living human beings...
While Mo Ran was contemplating this, the person in the black cloak on the other side whispered a few words to the Taoists. Hearing those words, the Taoists instantly became furious, shouting, "Apologize? Your grandpa doesn't know how to write the word 'apologize'!" "What's so great about Sisheng Peak?" "Meddling in other people's business, I'll teach you a lesson!" They pounced on the person in the black cloak, ready to surround and attack them.
"Oh my."
Seeing their fellow disciple being attacked, Mo Ran let out a low laughter. "So fierce."
He had no intention of lending a hand. In his past life, he despised the atmosphere of his sect, where they would draw their swords to help anyone in need. They would rush in like fools, even if it was just to rescue Aunt Wang's kitten stuck in a tree at the village entrance. From the sect leader to the menial workers, they were all lacking in common sense.
There are so many injustices in the world, why bother meddling in everything? It would only exhaust oneself.
"They're fighting! They're fighting! Wow, what powerful punches!"
The people in the restaurant rushed over in a swarm to join in the excitement.
"So many people ganging up on one person, how shameless!"
"Watch out behind you, Immortal Lord! Oh no, that was close! Wow, yikes!"
"That was a good dodge!"
These people loved watching fights, but Mo Ran didn't. He had seen enough bloodshed and violence. What happened right in front of his eyes was like the buzzing of flies to him. He lazily brushed off the peanut crumbs from his clothes, got up, and left.
Once he descended the stairs, he saw the Taoists and the person in the black cloak locked in a fierce battle. Swords were flashing, and Mo Ran crossed his arms, leaning against the entrance of the tavern. He glanced at them briefly and couldn't help but click his tongue.
How embarrassing.
The experts of the Sisheng Peak were all fierce and formidable, capable of fighting ten opponents at once. Yet, this person in the black cloak seemed rather weak in the fight. They were being pulled down from their horse by those few wandering Taoists, who surrounded them and relentlessly kicked, yet they still didn't strike back decisively.
Instead, they weakly shouted, "A true gentleman acts with deeds, not words. Why won't you listen to reason?!"
The Taoists: "..........."
Mo Ran: ".........."
The Taoists were thinking, "Huh? This person, who looks like a grandmother after being beaten like this, is still talking about being a true gentleman? Their brain must be as hollow as a mantou without filling."
Mo Ran's expression changed drastically, and for a moment, he felt dizzy. He held his breath, his eyes wide with disbelief. This voice...
"Shimei!" Mo Ran shouted lowly and rushed up, channeling his spiritual energy into a palm strike that sent all five misbehaving wandering Taoists flying. He knelt on the ground and helped the black-cloaked figure covered in mud and footprints. His voice trembled slightly.
"Shimei, is it really you?"
—
The author wants to convey:
Even though his name is Shimei, he is actually Shige (a senior male martial brother). It's a playful joke by the author, indicating that he is an older martial brother compared to Mo Ran, and it brings to mind laughter.