LUO FAN
The day after my unexpected encounter with Xiong Juan, Jinjing left early, mentioning she needed to buy something personal. I didn't question her. We had earned enough to afford small comforts, so I didn't mind if she indulged herself a little.
Feeling mostly recovered, I turned my focus to repairing the broken bamboo stick. Using a binding mixture I'd concocted from tree sap, I carefully reconnected the two pieces.
It would have been easier to just cut a new stick from the nearby bamboo forest, but this one was special. It had been with me for over a year, a steadfast companion in my travels. Like others bond with their weapons, I had formed a similar connection with this stick. It wasn't just a walking aid—it was a weapon, a part of my survival.
The repair held, though I doubted its durability. Still, it would suffice as a walking stick for now.
"Priest Luo, are you there?" Huang Wen's voice called out, pulling me from my thoughts.
I stood and opened the door, and he immediately stepped inside. By now, we had become familiar enough to forego formalities, at least when his master wasn't around. If Ruan Yanjun were present, Huang Wen would have to treat me with the utmost respect—or risk punishment.
"You're in big trouble," Huang Wen said, his tone teasing but serious. "My master wants to see you—right now."
"What for?"
"Who knows? Maybe he misses you," he said with a grin. "But don't try to resist. He told me to knock you out if necessary. Otherwise, he'd have my handsome head on a platter."
I sighed. If possible, I did not want to see that devil again, but out of courtesy, and gratitude for his past help, I decided not to refuse. "Alright. But only because you asked."
"Ouch, that's sweet. Just don't say that in front of my master, or he'll get jealous and pluck my eyes out."
"Shut up," I muttered, suppressing a smile as we left the house.
An hour later, I found myself back in Ruan Yanjun's luxurious residence, a place I had hoped never to visit again.
Huang Wen led me to the inner courtyard, where we found Ruan Yanjun seated beneath a pergola, playing chess alone. He didn't even glance up as we approached.
"Master," Huang Wen announced, bowing. "Priest Luo is here."
"Mm," Ruan Yanjun hummed in acknowledgment, placing a black piece on the board. "Leave us."
With another bow, Huang Wen retreated, leaving me alone with the man I least wanted to see.
Resigned, I took a seat across from him. Though my vision was blurry, I could distinguish the black and white pieces.
I reached for a white piece and joined the game.
For the next half an hour, we played without saying a word. Eventually, I lost.
"Lord Ruan is indeed a master strategist," I admitted.
"And I didn't expect the elusive Wei Fan to know how to play chess," he countered.
"How could I not? In Frost Mountain, it was one of the few pastimes available."
Ruan Yanjun studied me with a sharp gaze. "You don't look well. Has your wife not been taking care of you?"
"It's my old illness," I replied quietly. "It's come back."
His brow furrowed in genuine surprise. "Even after all this time? Hasn't the legendary herb cured you?"
I shook my head, feeling the familiar weight of disappointment. "The Molun plant worked wonders, but its effects were never permanent. It has run its course."
He sighed, a rare flicker of something resembling sympathy crossing his face. "At least it prolonged your life. Without it, who knows what state you'd be in now?"
I stayed silent, unwilling to give voice to the despair building inside me. Deep down, I'd already begun to lose hope of ever recovering. But I couldn't admit that to him—not when I knew it would only give him more ammunition to remind me of my reliance on his so-called protection.
"I heard you were attacked again," Ruan Yanjun said, his tone measured but probing.
I avoided his gaze, remaining silent.
He sighed, his voice softening as if appealing to reason. "I'll give you one last chance, A-Fan. Come back here with Jinjing. Both of you will be safe."
I shook my head, recalling how Huang Wen had visited me two weeks earlier to deliver the same proposition. But Jinjing and I had already made up our minds. We would not return to that golden cage, trading freedom for security under the thumb of a devil.
"I appreciate your offer, my lord," I said firmly, "but I must decline."
"Are you certain?" Ruan Yanjun asked, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief.
I nodded resolutely. "Jinjing and I have already decided."
He sighed, a trace of disappointment in his expression, but he didn't push the matter further.
His eyes drifted to the stick in my hand. Reaching out, he took it and examined it closely. "Did you break this?"
"I had a fight with a third-level cultivator," I replied.
He raised a brow, a hint of amusement playing on his face. "I heard you hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious."
A chill ran through me.
So someone had been watching, reporting my every move.
Just how many people has he sent to shadow me?
"It was a lucky strike," I said, brushing it off.
He chuckled. "Not bad for a level one." Running his hand over the stick, he channeled energy into it.
My frown deepened as I sensed something unusual. The energy flowing through the stick wasn't ordinary—it carried an elemental force: metal.
I gasped, staring at him. "Lord Ruan, you possess the metal element?"
A smirk tugged at his lips. "It's not particularly useful to me. It's only good for making things sturdier."
That wasn't entirely true. The metal element was exceptionally rare among cultivators. Mastery over it allowed one to materialize weapons and shields at will, repel attacks, and even absorb the energy back for reuse. Most cultivators would trade anything to wield such an ability.
But I understood his indifference. At level nine, he had little use for such tricks. His bare hands alone were more than enough to crush any opponent or block any attack.
"Lord Ruan," I began cautiously, "Huang Wen mentioned you had something important to tell me."
He let out a low hum but said nothing further.
I pressed on. "So, what is it?"
Instead of answering immediately, he handed my stick back to me. "Did Jinjing ever tell you she had an affair with a widower?"
I nodded, inspecting the stick. It felt different—remarkably sturdy yet as light as before. I was certain that even if I struck it against a boulder, it wouldn't splinter. "She did mention it. She said the widower passed away just six months after they were together."
"And that's all she told you?"
"Yes," I said slowly. "Is there more to it?"
His gaze darkened. "Did she not tell you that… she was pregnant when the widower passed away?"
I was left speechless, my mouth falling open in shock.