When assigned a task, Du Chunfeng never drank alcohol. Though he appeared carefree, he was exceptionally reliable when it mattered.
He unfolded the letter and read the mission details:
On the northern outskirts of the capital, in a desolate area, there was a small village called Gujing Village. Recently, there had been frequent and mysterious disappearances of villagers, rumored to be the work of demons or evil spirits.
The task seemed straightforward—investigate the cause.
The difficulty rating of five coins was due to the fact that two teams had already been sent but returned empty-handed, making this an unresolved case.
Du Chunfeng, brushing aside the ominous air, grinned. "This mission sounds great! We'll take a stroll, fail like the others, and call it a day."
Zhao Letian shook his head. "If it were just about appearances, why would I drag you into this? I can't even command respect in a lowly Team C of the Qingyi Division. How can I continue in this line of work? No, we must solve this case thoroughly."
His subordinates doubted him, eager to see him fail. The only way to silence them was to succeed and prove his worth.
Du Chunfeng understood his intentions but still hesitated. "If we truly encounter danger, I might not be able to protect you."
Zhao Letian patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I have my own methods. Tomorrow morning, we'll meet at the yamen and set out early."
After leaving the Ministry of Justice, Zhao Letian headed straight to the old eunuch's courtyard, only to find he wasn't there.
Not wanting to return to the palace, he decided to practice swordsmanship while waiting. As the saying went: sharpening the blade before battle, even at the last minute, was better than nothing.
In the courtyard, he practiced tirelessly, repeating the moves until they became fluid. The stiffness in his motions slowly faded, replaced by a natural rhythm.
By evening, the old eunuch had returned and stood quietly, observing him.
Sweating profusely, Zhao Letian stopped and greeted him, "Master, you're back!"
The old eunuch ignored the greeting and critiqued his technique. "Water that overflows is wasted; the sun at its peak must decline; a full moon wanes. Your moves are forceful but too hasty—they won't last."
"I was in a hurry. I'm facing a major problem and came to you for help!"
"Oh?"
"That shameless Lou Tingyu assigned me a troublesome task, hoping I'd give up. But I'm working for the emperor—I won't back down!"
"And how do you want me to help?"
"Do you have a way to quickly increase my strength?"
The old eunuch laughed in exasperation. "You've already achieved in days what others take decades. What more do you want?"
"Then perhaps a divine weapon or some protective talismans?"
"I follow the martial path, not sorcery. Where would I get talismans? As for divine weapons, your sword, Yazi, is already one."
That rusty old blade was a divine weapon? It barely showed its power.
Zhao Letian grew anxious. His confidence rested on getting some life-saving tools from the old eunuch. "Master, you can't just send me to my death. Surely you can teach me some survival techniques?"
After some thought, the old eunuch handed him a sword orb. "This contains a sliver of my sword energy. With the Tianlong Technique, it unleashes the power of a seventh-stage master's full-force attack."
Overjoyed, Zhao Letian accepted it, calling it the perfect "sword grenade."
Before he could express his gratitude, the old eunuch waved him off. "Go. Don't embarrass the royal name!"
The Next Morning
Zhao Letian and Du Chunfeng met at the yamen, dressed in plain clothes, and set off.
Five days later, they reached the northern outskirts near the Tianshan Mountains. The area was sparsely populated, with few animals and a harsh climate. Only martial artists could endure such a journey.
"How much farther?"
"Should be close now."
Suddenly, Du Chunfeng halted and gestured. "There's a sound ahead."
"Where?" Zhao Letian, with his limited first-stage cultivation, couldn't sense anything.
"About a hundred steps away, someone groaning."
After advancing, they found a man in farmer's clothing lying in a hollow, weakly muttering, "Water… please, water…"
Du Chunfeng wet the man's lips with his wine flask before letting him drink a few sips. The farmer eagerly drank and, with some strength restored, looked at Zhao Letian—then his expression twisted in terror.
"Demon! Stay away!" he screamed, struggling to escape.
"Demon? Where?" Zhao Letian looked around but saw nothing.
"Behind you… crawling closer!"
Before Zhao Letian could react, the man grabbed his own neck, his muscles shriveled rapidly, and he died—dried out, his body scalding to the touch.
Gujing Village
By dusk, they arrived at the village, marked by a worn stone plaque. At the entrance stood the Dragon God Inn, its banner fluttering.
Inside, they found a curious group: two monks, a mother and daughter, and a sword-wielding traveler.
Du Chunfeng noticed the mother and daughter, his gaze lingering. Zhao Letian joked, "Staring at women right after arriving? Bad habit."
Du Chunfeng subtly wrote "妖" (demon) on the table.
Zhao Letian's smile vanished. "How do you know?"
"Instinct."
Their conversation was interrupted by the innkeeper. "We have no meat, but our well water, blessed by the Dragon God, can repel evil."
Before Zhao Letian could respond, the sword-wielding traveler slammed the table. "Ridiculous! There are no gods, let alone dragon gods. A con to sell overpriced water!"
Their argument was cut short by a strange, wailing sound outside—a low, eerie cry like a baby sobbing.