Chapter 16
Seeing Heng Yu in Daoist robes, Fan Changping’s cold expression softened slightly. He assumed Heng Yu was also a Daoist cultivator. In Hua City, a town where Buddhism was the dominant faith, it was rare to see another Daoist.
“This is…?” Fan Changping asked.
Zhao Fan explained, “This is the immortal I told you about. She’s here to change my father’s medicine.”
“I see. Since you have a guest, I’ll come back tonight to drink with you.”
Fan Changping didn’t insist and turned to leave, swinging his wine jar.
Zhao Fan watched him go.
After he was out of sight, Zhao Fan closed the door and went inside to help Liaonian with the medicine.
While changing the medicine, Zhao Fan went to the kitchen to boil water. As he filled the kettle, Heng Yu came to the kitchen door and asked, “Was that your friend just now? A local?”
“Yes,” Zhao Fan replied, a little nervously.
After answering, he wiped his dusty hands with a cloth.
“I see he’s already at the early stage of Foundation Establishment at such a young age. He must be a disciple of some major sect.”
Among the eight major righteous sects and five major demonic sects, inner disciples usually reached Foundation Establishment before fifty, core disciples before thirty, and chief disciples around twenty.
She had specifically noted Fan Changping’s bone age — around thirty.
To have reached the early stage of Foundation Establishment at such a young age, Fan Changping should have been cultivating in a major sect. He couldn’t have been staying in this small town for long.
Following this logic, Fan Changping fit the description of someone who had recently entered or left Hua City.
Moreover, he was a local and likely had a grudge against Magistrate Zhao.
With so many coincidences, the truth was close at hand.
Heng Yu didn’t mind focusing on Fan Changping.
Zhao Fan smiled unconsciously, a hint of pride in his friend showing through. “Yes, I heard Changping say he’s a disciple of the Void Alliance.”
Heng Yu searched her memory for information about the Void Alliance. The books she had read before embarking on her mission came in handy now.
After a while, she finally recalled information about this sect — a second-rate sect, whose leader was at the early stage of Nascent Soul. All the disciples were Daoist cultivators and held a deep hatred for Buddhist cultivators.
A deep hatred for Buddhist cultivators?
Hua City had a strong Buddhist faith. While not everyone was a believer, they certainly didn’t hate Buddhism.
Unless there was some hidden reason.
These thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant.
Heng Yu said, “I won’t disturb you any longer,” and left the kitchen, returning to the courtyard.
She transmitted her voice to Liaonian, who was applying medicine inside. “I have something to do and need to go out. When you’re finished, come find me at the noodle stall at the end of the alley.”
After informing him, Heng Yu left Zhao Fan’s house and walked towards the noodle stall — the same one where she had inquired about Man Xue’er and Zhao Fan before.
It wasn’t mealtime, so there were only a few customers scattered around the stall.
The old woman still remembered Heng Yu. As soon as she entered, the old woman greeted her with a cup of water. “Miss, you’re back.”
Heng Yu sat down. “Yes, I enjoyed your wonton noodles very much. I didn’t have time to eat this morning, so I came here specifically.”
Whether her words were true or not, they were pleasing to hear.
The old woman’s weathered face lit up with a smile.
“Then I’ll give you extra wontons and noodles!”
“Thank you.”
The old woman wiped the table again and went to help the old man prepare the wonton noodles.
Soon, she returned with a bowl of noodles.
Heng Yu picked up her chopsticks and was about to ask about Fan Changping when a Daoist cultivator with a cold expression entered the stall — it was Fan Changping.
Heng Yu suppressed her question and stirred the noodles in her bowl.
Fan Changping sat at the table next to Heng Yu.
“It’s Changping. What would you like today?” the old woman asked with a smile.
Fan Changping said, “Two bowls of wonton noodles, extra spicy.”
After the old woman left, he placed his sword on the corner of the table, his back still stiff.
Heng Yu swallowed a mouthful of hot wontons, feeling a little regretful: If she had learned the demon detection technique, she could directly investigate Fan Changping now.
When she had some free time, she would ask Liaowu to teach her. After all, this technique wasn’t a closely guarded secret. If she wanted to learn it, Liaowu probably wouldn’t refuse.
While Heng Yu was lost in thought, Fan Changping noticed her.
However, he didn’t pay much attention. When his two bowls of wonton noodles were ready, he ate them intently.
He quickly finished both bowls. As he took out copper coins from his storage pouch to pay, the young monk Liaonian entered the stall with the medicine box and walked straight to Heng Yu.
“Amitabha, Lord Luo, I’m finished.”
Heng Yu gestured for him to sit down. “What would you like to eat?”
“I’d also like a bowl of wonton noodles,” Liaonian said, sitting opposite her.
Hearing his answer, Heng Yu turned to the old woman. “Madam, another bowl of wonton noodles, please.”
Just as she finished speaking, Fan Changping suddenly grabbed his sword and slammed it on the wooden table.
The loud bang startled everyone in the stall.
Fan Changping stood up, his eyes narrowed, his expression icy.
He looked at Heng Yu and sneered. “As a Daoist cultivator, you’re so close to Buddhist cultivators. Aren’t you ashamed before the Dao Ancestors?”
After speaking, he flicked his sleeves and left.
Liaonian: “…”
Who was this guy, minding other people’s business?
But he was happy to see this Lord Luo stay far away from his senior brother!
Heng Yu’s expression changed drastically.
Her face darkened, and her tone turned sharp. “I don’t even know him. Why is he interfering? Shopkeeper, is this someone from your Hua City? I was talking to my friend, and he suddenly started mocking me. How rude!”
Liaonian, who was somewhat familiar with her temperament: “???”
This demonic woman was usually calm and composed, not someone who would get angry over a few words.
“Miss, please calm down,” the old man said quickly. He was afraid that if this immortal got angry, his small stall would suffer.
The old woman also stopped washing dishes and came over to persuade carefully. “Miss, Changping has suffered a lot outside, so his temper isn’t very good. Please understand.”
Heng Yu looked at the old woman. “So he really is from Hua City? Strange, Hua City has many Buddhist believers. Why is he a Daoist cultivator and hates Buddhist cultivators?”
The two shopkeepers exchanged glances, seemingly considering whether to tell her.
The old woman sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Heng Yu settled back in her seat, her expression returning to its usual calmness.
She smiled faintly. “If you’re not busy, could you tell me about it? I’m really puzzled.”
Liaonian scratched his head.
Suddenly, he realized: Her reaction just now was a subtle way of extracting information.
The old couple didn’t realize Heng Yu was trying to get information out of them.
There were no new customers at the stall. The old man went to prepare Liaonian’s wonton noodles, and the old woman sat nervously beside Heng Yu, telling her about Fan Changping.
Seeing her nervousness, Heng Yu poured her a cup of water.
Holding the cup, the old woman felt more at ease. “Actually, Changping was a devout Buddhist when he was young and always wanted to become a Buddhist cultivator. But over ten years ago, his father committed a crime and offended a master. He was imprisoned by the former magistrate. The prison was chaotic, and his father died there, leaving him and his mother alone…”
Hearing that this involved Zhao Honghua, Heng Yu sat up straighter.
She had a feeling she was getting closer to the truth.
Life was inevitably difficult for the widowed mother and her son. Fan Changping’s mother worked tirelessly every day, sewing to support them, crying herself to sleep at night until she damaged her eyes. Fan Changping was still growing, often going hungry. They relied on the kindness of their neighbors to survive.
Then one day, the neighbors discovered that Fan Changping and his mother had moved away without a trace.
The old man brought over the wonton noodles and added, “Now that Changping is back, we asked and found out that he was taken in by a Daoist master and started cultivating Daoism.”
After hearing the story, Liaonian frowned slightly: Offended a master? What serious crime did Fan Changping’s father commit?
But he didn’t speak, only looking at Heng Yu, waiting for her reaction — he wasn’t good at handling these matters, so it was better to stay silent and not disrupt this demonic woman’s plans.
Heng Yu feigned great interest. “He hates Buddhist cultivators so much. Could it be because that master framed his father, and the magistrate wrongly convicted him?”
If that were the case, it would be understandable for Fan Changping, now a capable cultivator, to return and seek revenge against Magistrate Zhao.
However, the old man’s answer surprised Heng Yu.
He sighed. “We’re not entirely sure about this matter. According to the magistrate, Changping’s father did commit murder, but his mother insisted he was wrongly accused.”
Heng Yu was now certain that Magistrate Zhao’s death was definitely related to Fan Changping.
However, whether there was more to the story, she would have to check the official records.
“No wonder he hates Buddhist cultivators so much and can’t stand seeing me with them,” Heng Yu shook her head. “Well, I won’t hold his offense against him.”
She took out two low-grade spirit stones from her storage ring and gave them to the old woman. “Thank you for your time.”
Seeing that Liaonian had finished his wonton noodles, she stood up and walked out.
Liaonian nodded at the shopkeepers and followed Heng Yu.
“Lord Luo, where are we going now?”
“Let’s go to the magistrate’s residence and find your senior brother. The person who killed Magistrate Zhao is likely Fan Changping,” Heng Yu said.
She wasn’t interested in capturing criminals. She was more curious about whether there was more to Fan Changping’s father’s case.
Arriving at the magistrate’s residence, Heng Yu gave Liaowu’s name and was respectfully welcomed inside.
After passing through a corridor and ascending the steps to the main hall, Heng Yu saw Liaowu sitting quietly in a corner. He happened to look up at the entrance, and their eyes met.
Heng Yu looked away and greeted the city magistrate.
The city magistrate was only at the mid-stage of Core Formation. He didn’t put on any airs in front of Heng Yu and walked directly towards her.
“Fellow Daoist, please have a seat,” the magistrate said, pointing to the chair next to Liaowu.
“Thank you.”
Heng Yu walked over and sat down.
The hall was arranged with two chairs sharing a table. Liaowu sat on the right, and Heng Yu sat on the left. A teapot and several overturned teacups were placed on the table.
Heng Yu was thirsty. She turned over a clean teacup and pushed it towards Liaowu.
Liaowu was carefully examining a scroll.
Noticing her action, he glanced at her.
Heng Yu raised her chin, her gaze lingering on him before falling on the teacup and then the steaming teapot.
The hint was quite obvious.
Liaowu: “…”
He didn’t move.
Heng Yu stared at him silently.
Their silent standoff caught the attention of the abbot of Qingyun Temple, who was sitting opposite them.
After waiting for a while, Heng Yu, parched, decided to pour herself some tea.
Just as her slightly cool fingertips touched the teapot handle, Liaowu grabbed the handle first and lifted the teapot. Tea flowed into the teacup, quickly filling it.
Liaowu put down the teapot and gently pushed the teacup towards her.
“The tea is freshly brewed, so it might be a little hot,” he said calmly.
Unobserved by others, Heng Yu winked at him.
Liaowu looked away and continued examining the scroll.
Heng Yu picked up the teacup, patiently blew on it to cool it down, and then drank it all in one gulp. She put down the teacup and was about to hint to Liaowu again when the Buddha-son, still immersed in reading, picked up the teapot and refilled her cup.
Just as he put down the teapot, Heng Yu said, “I might have found the person who killed Magistrate Zhao.”
As soon as she spoke, everyone in the hall looked at her.
Leave a Reply