Chapter 3
In the dilapidated temple, Old Wen and Er Gou lay groaning. Old Wen had broken his arm during their escape, while Er Gou was covered in bruises from the beating by San Hu and his men.
Ah Heng lit a fire and boiled a pot of hot water. He was cleaning the wounds of Er Gou and Old Wen. Er Gou had two broken ribs, but being young, he would recover slowly.
Old Wen was a different story. His arm injury was more serious. At his age, his bones were brittle. The only way to fix it was to use spiritual energy to realign his veins and then mend the bone itself.
What exactly was spiritual energy? Ah Heng sat by the fire, lost in thought. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d forgotten so much.
“Ah Heng, you’re actually this powerful?” Er Gou thought Ah Heng looked like a god when he’d fallen in front of him to protect him. But surely no god in the world could be this poor and unlucky.
Ah Heng stared at his palm, then his gaze drifted to his begging staff. The blackened staff extended straight to his waist, its top ending in a fist-sized bulge where his hand rested. Truthfully, he didn’t understand how he’d moved so swiftly just now. He felt… he could have been even faster.
“Ah Heng must be a fallen hero framed by scoundrels, his memory completely wiped,” Old Wen mused, shaking his head. “And here I thought you were born to beg. Maybe I misjudged you… Ouch!”
Ah Heng gave a faint smile. “I… don’t remember.” Nothing remained. His past was a blank void, his mind holding only scattered fragments of words.
“Old Wen, did you see Sanhu and the others running scared? Ha ha ha ha… Cough cough cough…” Er Gouzi’s triumphant laughter turned to pain as he lost his balance.
Ah Heng pressed him down. “Stay lying down. Both of you need rest. I’ll go find some herbs and food for you.” Steamed buns alone weren’t nutritious enough. Ah Heng planned to head into the woods to hunt for game. He’d seen hunters earlier that morning bringing wild game from the mountains to town to trade for money. He could do that too.
Ah Heng took the door from the dilapidated temple and slowly made his way toward the forest. His pace was extremely slow, his gait unsteady, giving the impression he was unsteady on his feet. Without the support of his beggar’s staff, he’d likely crawl along the ground.
Outside Apricot Blossom Pavilion, news spread quickly that a beggar had shattered the century-old apricot tree with a single blow. The innkeeper, whose prized possession had been destroyed, could have been furious—but instead, he saw an extraordinary business opportunity: ” “Find that beggar! Quickly!”
The waiter fumed, “Find him? Break his legs!” The round-faced middle-aged proprietor immediately smacked the waiter across the head.
“Breaking your legs would be more fitting! That beggar shattered an ancient tree blessed with divine magic with a single blow—you lot are no match for him! Go and invite him here respectfully! Invite him, understand?”
The waiters filed out one after another. The round-faced proprietor paced the hall, his delight evident: “What a stroke of luck! I was just pondering how to deal with that Yu fellow, and now this ultimate weapon arrives. Hahahaha!”
The accountant at Apricot Blossom Pavilion stroked his goatee with worry. “That Yu Tong, backed by the Ultimate Bliss Sect, has long sought to swallow us whole. Who knows when our Patriarch Mu will emerge from seclusion? We’ve heard nothing from the Limitless (Wu Ji) Immortal Sect either—otherwise, that Yu fellow wouldn’t dare set his sights on us.”
The round-faced proprietor sighed. “Ancestor Mu is my family’s sole Foundation Establishment cultivator. I only pray she successfully forms her Core. If I treat this beggar with proper courtesy, Yu Tong won’t dare openly cause trouble.” It turned out this round-faced proprietor bore the surname Mu, and he and the proprietor of the neighboring town, surnamed Yu, had long been at odds. Both sought to swallow up the other to expand their influence.
In this world where anyone with spiritual roots could cultivate immortality, countless cultivators maintained earthly domains. Sometimes even a roadside pancake vendor might have an ancestral protector within a sect. Most mortals could only lament their lack of spiritual roots, for cultivators towered over humans like clouds above mud.
Old Wen had been begging in Xiaoyan Town for years, and many knew where the old beggar lived. When the waiter from Apricot Blossom Pavilion found the dilapidated temple, Old Wen and Er Gouzi were shivering in fear. Here it comes—the grim reaper!
Ah Heng circled the woods, then emerged dragging a white-browed tiger. He hadn’t been long inside when the beast lunged at him. With one swing of his staff, Ah Heng struck its forehead. It collapsed instantly. He found a rope and bound it tightly, then proceeded to… drag it all the way back.
The Old tiger (Lao Hu) was thoroughly dead. Its limbs remained intact, but its head hung limply—the skull shattered cleanly by Ah Heng’s blow. He walked along the path at a leisurely pace, feeling his speed and strength oddly heightened, as if carved into his very bones.
When the beast lunged at him, he’d expected to be torn apart. But in that instant, he swung his club. That massive skull shattered like a small melon with a soft ‘pop’. Had it not been for the tiger’s thick hide, blood would have spattered far and wide.
Ah Heng walked slowly, spotting a group of people approaching from afar outside the dilapidated temple. Leading them was Er Gou, who called out, “Ah Heng!! You’ve struck gold! The owner of Apricot Blossom Pavilion wants to hire you as a bodyguard! Hey, what’s that you’re dragging?”
As they spoke, the inn servants saw only a tall, gaunt man with a slightly hunched back. He looked like a zombie, yet he was very much alive.
The inn servant shrugged and whispered to the person beside him, “This guy is so creepy. I hope he’s not some demonic sect practitioner.” His companion replied,
“Don’t talk nonsense. That guy’s clearly got skills. Did you see what he’s dragging?”
Ah Heng dragged the tiger to the dilapidated temple, then tossed the rope aside. He said slowly, “As soon as I entered the woods, I ran into a tiger. Cut it up. Give some to Old Wen and keep the rest for us.”
Er Gou was utterly dumbfounded. Staring at the tiger—larger than himself—he broke down: “Ah Heng, are you crazy?! You’d be better off catching a chicken than a tiger!”
Ah Heng innocently said: “I… didn’t encounter any chickens.”
Er Gou looked even more innocent: “I don’t know how to butcher a tiger either…”
The waitstaff at Apricot Blossom Pavilion were collectively dumbfounded. This beggar was way too impressive.
When the waiter looked at Ah Heng’s face again, any lingering sense of superiority vanished completely. He stepped forward and said, “Sir… mighty warrior. Our boss at Apricot Blossom Pavilion would like to invite you for a cup of tea. Would you be available?”
Ah Heng countered, “Does Apricot Blossom Tower take tigers?”
The waiter froze, then plastered on a smile. “Of course! We take them!” Joking aside, a tiger this big? The owner would be an idiot not to take it.
Ah Heng lifted his eyelids. The waiter caught sight of his eyes—brown, an ordinary color, but the shape was exceptionally beautiful.
Ah Heng said, “I’ll be bringing Er Gou and Old Wen. If your boss objects, then forget it.”
The waiter slapped his thigh. “Don’t be silly! Such a small matter doesn’t need our boss’s approval—I can handle it myself! Xinghua Pavilion has already prepared a modest banquet. We’d be honored if you’d grace us with your presence.”
Old Wen’s face was wet with tears. “This old man… after all these years, I finally get to be treated like royalty.” The owner of Apricot Blossom Pavilion had even arranged for two men to carry Old Wen. He was deeply moved.
Er Gou was even more overwhelmed. “Waaah… Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get to eat at Apricot Blossom Pavilion. Waaah…”
Compared to these two good-for-nothing beggars, Ah Heng’s presence was utterly commanding. He could even walk ahead dragging a tiger without breaking a sweat, leaving the innkeeper too intimidated to speak to him.
Returning once more to the entrance of Apricot Blossom Pavilion, the tree by the gate had been cleared away, leaving only a short stump to bear witness to the recent events. The waiter had already sent word to Master Mu. Upon hearing that a beggar had killed a tiger with his bare hands, Master Mu and the old accountant had been waiting at the door for quite some time.
Seeing Ah Heng approach, Master Mu hurried forward: “Sir, your strength is truly remarkable. Might I ask where you learned such skills? I am Mu Chuanfeng, proprietor of Apricot Blossom Pavilion.”
Ah Heng casually tossed the tiger carcass at the entrance of Apricot Blossom Pavilion. Leaning on his beggar’s staff, he looked at Master Mu. Suddenly, several images flashed before his eyes—or rather, a small scene.
Master Mu and the accountant lay collapsed on the ground, their chests torn open by gaping wounds. Thick, crimson blood poured from the gashes. Both were dead, utterly lifeless. The Xinghua Pavilion sign crashed heavily to the ground amid the raging flames, everything engulfed by the inferno.
Ah Heng felt a wave of dizziness. He looked at Master Mu and the accountant—a gray mist, identical to the one he’d seen on Old Wen’s face, now shrouded their features. Ah Heng hadn’t understood its meaning before, but now one thing was certain in his heart—Master Mu and the accountant were nearing the end of their lives.
For now, he could only witness their deaths, not comprehend their causes.
“Hero, hero!” Boss Mu called out as Ah Heng stood in a daze. He waved his hand softly. “May I ask your honorable name, brave warrior?”
Ah Heng glanced from Old Wen to Boss Mu, then spoke slowly. “I am no hero, merely a humble man of the mountains. Call me Ah Heng.”
The moment he turned and saw Old Wen, Ah Heng witnessed the lifeless figure in the dilapidated temple. A sudden realization struck his heart. He didn’t doubt the authenticity of what he saw; he was certain it would come to pass, and the deaths of these men were imminent.
“Come, come in, please!” Boss Mu greeted Ah Heng warmly. He felt deeply convinced that recruiting Ah Heng was the right decision. Just look at that giant tiger by the door—taller and stronger than any man. A talent like this had to be kept. With Ah Heng around, what was there to fear? That so-called ancestor of the Extreme Bliss Immortal Sect was nothing but an outer-door Qi Cultivation disciple. Ah Heng appeared capable of matching a Qi Cultivation disciple already, and Master Mu’s eyes crinkled with delight.
Er Gou and Old Wen devoured their meals with gusto, but Ah Heng, the guest of honor, hadn’t touched his chopsticks. Master Mu now found himself unsure of Ah Heng’s background. He’d initially thought a beggar who could be won over with a meal must have some significant connections.
Ah Heng had his own thoughts. Some unseen force seemed to whisper to him: Heaven’s will must not be defied.
Just as he had clearly seen the method of Lao Went and Master Mu’s deaths, yet he could not interfere too much. This might sound heartless, but Ah Heng’s heart remained calm and still, as if he had grown accustomed to life and death.
“Brother Ah Heng, is the food not to your liking?” Mr. Mu asked awkwardly, gesturing for him to eat. “What would you prefer?” Er Gouzi didn’t even look up. “Exactly! Why aren’t you eating?!” Never in his life had Er Gou tasted anything so delicious.
Ah Heng glanced at Er Gou. The absence of gray mist on his face meant he posed no threat.
Master Mu exchanged a glance with the accountant. It seemed they needed to pull out the big guns—this beggar couldn’t be bought off with ordinary things. The accountant rose and stepped outside. When he returned, he held a jade box in his hand. Strangely enough, the moment the box appeared, Ah Heng’s gaze was drawn to it involuntarily. He could sense powerful spiritual energy swirling within.
Ah Heng opened the box to find an irregularly shaped oval stone inside. A name instantly sprang to mind: “Spirit Stone…” Mr. Mu and the accountant exchanged glances. Recognizing a spirit stone at a glance—this Ah Heng might be a cultivator.
Ah Heng reached out to touch the stone. A surge of potent spiritual energy instantly shot through his fingertips into his body. He felt lighter and more agile, but before he could savor the sensation, a crackling sound echoed.
Opening his eyes, he saw the spirit stone had turned to powder. The spiritual energy contained within had been completely drained by Ah Heng in an instant.
Everyone: …
Author’s Note: Wen Heng: Leave a comment and sprinkle some flowers, and I’ll bloom for you!
That’s all. Please don’t doubt the Master’s abilities—he really can make flowers bloom!
![Flying Dust [Fei Chen]](https://novels.space/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/9k.png "Flying Dust [Fei Chen]")
