After a brief moment, as Mr. Xu and Yang Yu departed, Yang Fan materialized like a phantom at the gate of the courtyard, his gaze fixed on the direction they had taken, deep in thought.
"It seems highly likely that Mr. Xu is one of my father's adversaries. Yet, these two appear to harbor some ulterior motives, which is why they've refrained from striking me down… for now."
With a sigh of relief, Yang Fan realized that, given Xu's and Yang Yu's current prowess, they could easily extinguish his life with but a flick of a finger. Of course, the reason they hadn't was his current state of helplessness, stripped of all power. Had he retained the talents of his former self, it would be uncertain if they could have resisted the urge to act.
"The most pressing matter now is to acquire the strength for self-preservation. When I am sufficiently empowered, I shall retaliate in due time."
Within Yang Fan's profound eyes lay an intensity of perseverance and sagacity that few could match. With the **Xianhong Space** at his disposal and the unprecedented **Xianhong Method**, he possessed a guiding light that kept him uncommonly composed and lucid.
Thanks to the aid of the verdant land, Yang Fan could, in a short span, completely restore the vitality and vigor within him, granting him the physique of a Concentration Phase cultivator. Under these circumstances, even without external assistance, he could restore his former strength within four to five years—far exceeding Mr. Xu's predictions.
Upon returning to the courtyard, Yang Fan addressed the two maids, "Please assist me in gathering my belongings."
"Yes, Young Master."
The two maids responded promptly, beginning to sort through the valuable items that had accumulated over the years of Yang Fan's residence in Yang Family Fortress. Indeed, he possessed quite a collection.
However, the most crucial items related to his cultivation were already on his person. His storage bag contained dozens of spirit stones, four or five magical artifacts, two lower-grade spiritual instruments, several bottles of medicinal pills, numerous jade slips, and a small quantity of refining materials. Though these resources paled in comparison to what older cultivators had at their disposal, they were considerable wealth among the ranks of wandering cultivators.
Before long, the maids gathered Yang Fan's treasured possessions in the courtyard, ready for packing.
"You two have served me loyally for many years. With my power now lost and unable to offer you protection, here's some silver for you both to share."
With a deep sigh, he tossed a small pouch of silver to the maids, his heart tinged with melancholy as he glanced around the courtyard.
"Thank you, Young Master!"
The two maids immediately knelt, their gratitude pouring forth as they bowed deeply.
"This silver should suffice to buy your freedom. Please, go and find a good family for yourselves."
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them.
"Take care, Young Master."
The two maids departed, tears in their eyes as they left the courtyard.
Once they had gone, Yang Fan's expression hardened. He promptly closed the courtyard doors behind him and approached his treasured items, extending a hand to touch them.
Simultaneously, his mind delved into the **Xianhong Space**.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
As his fingers brushed against the books, antiques, and paintings, they vanished from sight one by one.
In mere moments, the space stood devoid of anything.
Within the **Xianhong Space**, Yang Fan instructed the little dog, "Please store these items in the warehouse."
The little dog, with a look of grievance, replied, "These items are rather large… and I am no mere laborer."
"Is that so? Then how did you manage to retrieve this shovel from the warehouse?"
Yang Fan gestured with the shovel in his hand, a smile dancing on his lips.
Left with no choice, the little dog begrudgingly approached, using its mouth and paws to effortlessly transport three items—one in its mouth and two on its back.
Yang Fan stared in awe, marveling at the little dog's incredible abilities.
Intrigued, he asked, "You seem to possess an extraordinary lineage. What is your name?"
Proudly, the little dog responded, "Master, you truly have discerning eyes! I am the mightiest divine beast born and raised within this **Xianhong Space**."
The mightiest divine beast!
Yang Fan's heart raced at the revelation. In the **Dongsheng Continent**, divine beasts were mere legends—beings like the Qilin, Divine Dragon, and Phoenix were known to all.
However, knowing about divine beasts was one thing; having seen one was entirely different. Ancient texts recounted that few cultivators who had laid eyes on a divine beast ever returned alive. Even those revered high-level cultivators held no power against such entities.
"You are a divine beast… and the mightiest at that?"
Yang Fan's excitement bubbled over as he asked, "Pray tell, which legendary beast are you? The Celestial Dog? The Three-Headed Hound? Or the Sun Swallowing Hound?"
He hastily named several legendary canine divine beasts.
The little dog froze, then indignantly retorted, "Don't you dare compare me to such inferior creatures!"
"Then what is your title?"
Yang Fan's tone shifted to one of utmost respect, realizing that this being held disdain for even the most revered of legendary canine beasts.
"My name is Little Dog." The canine lifted its head, filled with pride.
"You're called Little Dog?"
Yang Fan felt a bead of sweat form on his brow.
"Indeed, this is no falsehood. In the entire **Xianhong Space**, I alone enjoy such an esteemed honor."
The little dog boasted without shame.
"Go on, you silly creature, surely someone has deceived you."
Yang Fan waved the little dog away, urging it to focus on transporting the items.
In a short while, the little dog had moved everything into the warehouse.
"By the way, can I instantly summon items from the **Xianhong Space**?"
Yang Fan inquired suddenly.
"Of course, Master! As long as you are in the warehouse, you need only think of what you desire, and simply reach out to touch it, and it will materialize in your hands."
The little dog replied.
"Such marvels!"
Yang Fan stepped into the warehouse and put it to the test. As promised, he found that he could summon items into reality with ease.
Once everything was arranged, Yang Fan felt lighthearted as he exited the main gate, casting a final glance at the courtyard, his eyes clouded with nostalgia.
"Farewell!"
He sighed softly, resolutely striding toward the outside world.
As he approached the suspension bridge leading out of Yang Family Fortress, he caught snippets of conversation among a few gatekeepers nearby.
"Did you see that white-haired fellow? He's the once-great prodigy of the Southern Neighboring Yang Family, Yang Fan. Today, however, he's become a mere cripple."
"Ah, so that's him. I overheard people say he's now the epitome of a waste."
"From prodigy to cripple, to think he looks so pitiful with his white hair…"
One of the younger gatekeepers expressed sympathy.
"What a worthless thing… he deserves it!"
The others chimed in disdainfully, casting scornful glances at the sympathetic gatekeeper.
"I was merely expressing sympathy; is that a crime?" the young gatekeeper replied, visibly hurt.
…
Yang Fan left Yang Family Fortress, a bitter smile forming as he overheard the exchange.
"Alas, it seems I should avoid this cursed place unless absolutely necessary."
He shook his head and departed, his demeanor unusually tranquil yet tinged with a hint of bitterness.
After traveling several dozen miles, Yang Fan came to a halt as dusk began to descend.
"It appears I won't make it home tonight. If only I still had my Concentration Phase abilities, I could fly back on my sword in less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense."
Lost in thought, he entered a desolate forest, gathering a pile of dry wood only to realize he had no flint to ignite it.
Sigh!
Without his powers, he felt utterly helpless.
Yang Fan shrugged and retrieved a crimson talisman, biting his fingertip until blood oozed forth.
With a puff, the talisman transformed into a fireball, igniting the pile of wood into flames that danced brightly.
Yang Fan settled beside the fire, sitting cross-legged.
In truth, even seated in this damp, chilly forest, he wouldn't fall ill due to his Concentration Phase physique. Yet, it was human nature to fear darkness and loneliness; lighting this fire brought a measure of warmth to his heart.
"The long night stretches on; perhaps I shall practice the **Xianhong Method** here."
Feeling a bit solitary, he closed his eyes to cultivate, immersing his consciousness within his mind.
Deep within his consciousness lay a hazy, ethereal green light—a reservoir of knowledge containing the essence of the **Xianhong Method**.
As Yang Fan's spirit merged with this verdant glow, a torrent of information surged into his awareness...