《Let you play the suona to die, you brought the fairy to life?》


 Play a tune on the suona.

    "Boss, warm me a bowl of wine and bring me a plate of fried peanuts."


    The door of the small tavern was pushed open, and the cold wind mixed with countless sand and snow blew in.


    The drinkers raised their hands to block the wind and snow. When they saw who had entered, the small tavern immediately erupted into a burst of mocking laughter.


    "The cripple, here to drink again?"


    "How much did you earn playing the suona today? Can you even afford a bowl of wine?"


    "The cripple¡­"


    Amid the mocking laughter, Chen Fan limped his way to the counter, using a crutch to support himself.


    He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few copper coins, and laid them neatly on the table.


    The innkeeper collected the coins, then took one out and handed it back to Chen Fan.


    "It''s cold, consider the peanuts on the house."


    "Thank you."


    Chen Fan accepted the coin, sat at an empty table, placed his crutch by his side, and then took a brass suona from his waist, casually setting it on the table.


    While he waited for his wine, the surrounding drinkers, having nothing better to do, began to tease Chen Fan.


    "Cripple, how about you play Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix? I''ll buy you another bowl of wine if you do."


    Chen Fan shook his head.


    "That''s not possible. It''s either red or white¡ªcan''t play it recklessly."


    At this, laughter filled the small tavern.


    "Since you''ve brought your suona, why not play a tune?"


    Unable to resist the crowd''s heckling, Chen Fan, amidst the laughter, picked up his brass suona.


    A melodious yet piercing tune instantly filled the small tavern.


    The music brought some life to the little tavern, dispelling the gloomy atmosphere that had been hanging in the air.


    Ding-dong~


    [Today''s task: Play the suona for one hour. Task completed.]


    [Congratulations, host. Lifespan increased by one day. Experience points +100.]


    Chen Fan put down the suona as the system''s notification suddenly echoed in his mind.


    At this, he sighed.


    A year ago, during a similarly harsh winter, Chen Fan had transmigrated into this world of immortal cultivation and activated this utterly useless system.


    Alone and destitute, carrying nothing but a suona through deep snow, Chen Fan nearly froze to death.


    It was the tavern''s owner who had given him a bowl of warm wine and a steaming hot bun, helping him survive that bitter winter.


    Since then, Chen Fan had developed a habit.


    Whether he had money or not, he would come to this tavern during his free time to sit for a while.


    If someone asked to hear the suona, he would play a tune in exchange for some wine money.


    "Here''s your wine."


    As he was thinking, a young woman with fair skin and a graceful figure brought over two bowls of hot wine and placed them on his table.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "Mr. Chen, take your time. Be careful, it''s hot."


    Her surname was Wen, the daughter of the tavern owner. She was born with delicate features and had been a beauty since childhood. When she smiled, two shallow dimples would appear at the corners of her mouth.


    Most of the young men who frequented the tavern came because of her.


    Chen Fan gave a slight nod and took the bowl of wine.


    "Thank you."


    The bitter wine warmed his throat and his heart. In the bone-chilling winter, a bowl of hot wine was worth more than anything else.


    After finishing one bowl, Chen Fan put the bowl down.


    Just as he was about to eat a peanut and start on the second bowl, a yellow-haired thug suddenly burst into the tavern.


    He spotted Chen Fan''s table, walked over without a word, and grabbed the remaining bowl of wine.


    Gulp, gulp, gulp, he downed it in one go.


    Chen Fan''s hand, which was reaching for a peanut, froze midair as he stared in surprise at the newcomer.


    The other drinkers couldn''t stand it and started criticizing the yellow-haired thug:


    "Er Biao, it''s one thing to act like a scoundrel usually, but bullying a cripple? Really?"


    Er Biao immediately turned his head, glaring at the speaker.


    "What''s it to you? Think you''re some kind of hero? What, do you taste dog shit when you see it on the street to check how salty it is?"


    After this outburst, Er Biao still seemed unsatisfied. He glanced around and spotted the suona on the table.


    He shuddered involuntarily, a flicker of fear in his eyes.


    This was Chen Fan''s livelihood. He didn''t dare touch it. Once, he had tried to steal it to sell for money, but Chen Fan had caught him.


    The result? Chen Fan, like a mad dog, had dragged him onto the street and cursed him out for an entire afternoon.


    Since then, neither Er Biao nor anyone else dared to lay a finger on the suona.


    It was the cripple''s reverse scale.


    Instead, Er Biao turned his attention to Chen Fan''s crutch. He snatched it up and arrogantly tilted his head at Chen Fan, a taunting look in his eyes.


    The people around wanted to intervene but dared not.


    Er Biao was infamous in Maplewood Town, a known troublemaker who spent his days idling and causing petty mischief. He was the kind of guy even stray dogs avoided, lest they provoke him into starting a fight.


    "Give me back my crutch."


    Chen Fan, unperturbed, put down his chopsticks and looked directly at Er Biao.


    Er Biao snorted.


    "Don''t you know how to say ''please'' when asking for something?"


    "Fine. Please return my crutch."


    Er Biao: ?


    Seeing Er Biao still motionless, a hint of impatience flashed in Chen Fan''s eyes.


    His blood surged, and it felt as though some unseen energy inside him began to stir, aimlessly bouncing around like a headless fly.


    Ding. Body Refinement Technique: 10%. Warning: Host''s current proficiency is insufficient. Please use caution.


    Just as Chen Fan was about to lose his temper¡ª


    "Er Biao, if you don''t leave, I''ll have my father call the constable."


    It was Miss Wen, standing with one hand on her hip, stepping out from the inner door.


    At the sight of her, Er Biao''s arrogance dissipated significantly. He forced a laugh, his smile tinged with lewdness.


    He tossed the crutch back onto the table, shot Chen Fan a glare, and spat:


    "You''re lucky this time."


    With that, he turned and left.


    Miss Wen picked up the crutch from the table and handed it back to Chen Fan.


    "Stay a bit longer before leaving. Avoid him; he''s nothing but trouble."


    Chen Fan nodded and sat back down.


    Not long after, Miss Wen returned with another bowl of warm wine.


    "This one''s on me. It''s freezing outside¡ªdrink another bowl to warm up."


    "Thank you, Miss Wen."


    Chen Fan raised the bowl and drank it all in one go.


    Then, using his crutch to support himself, he stood up, ready to leave.


    Before leaving, he scooped some peanuts from the untouched plate into his pocket.


    As Chen Fan opened the tavern door, a gust of wind and snow howled in.


    "Mr. Chen, take care."


    The wind and snow were so loud that it was unclear if Miss Wen''s farewell reached Chen Fan''s ears.


    Regardless, Chen Fan pulled his thin coat tighter around him and limped his way into the snowy distance.


    As he left, the tavern returned to its usual gloom.


    Without the cripple, the drinkers no longer had anyone to mock.


    ...


    In the farthest corner of Maplewood Town stood an old, decrepit temple, long abandoned. The wind whistling through its broken tiles made a rattling noise, as if the whole structure was about to collapse.


    This was Chen Fan''s current residence. The floor was covered with a thin layer of straw, resembling a dog''s nest.


    In fact, it had been a dog''s nest¡ªone Chen Fan had fought a stray dog for when he first arrived.


    Thinking back on it now, he still felt a bit proud of himself.


    As the long night stretched on, Chen Fan nibbled on peanuts, hoping for pleasant dreams tonight.


    Closing his eyes, he slowly began circulating the Body Refinement Technique.


    A system notification echoed in his mind:


    [Host: Chen Fan, Age: 21]


    [Lifespan: 79 years, Cultivation Level: Mortal]


    [Skills: Body Refinement Technique (10%)]


    [Experience Points: 1500/10000]


    Thanks to the system''s initial gift of the Body Refinement Technique, which strengthened his body and bones, Chen Fan had managed to survive this harsh winter unscathed.


    Only in moments like this did he remember that he had transmigrated into a world of cultivation.


    Maplewood Town was an ordinary mortal town, devoid of any real cultivation methods. Occasionally, an immortal would streak across the sky, and Chen Fan would lift his head, staring for a long time.


    Afterward, he would glance at his crippled leg.


    He knew he would probably never leave Maplewood Town in this lifetime.


    Unlike other transmigrators, he didn''t dare dream of cutting through the mortal world with a sword, singing songs of glory.

 Miss Wen is getting married

    Another deep winter arrived.


    Chen Fan, as usual, was walking along the streets, carrying his crutch and with a suona tucked at his waist, limping step by step through the marketplace.


    He didn''t bother calling out to drum up business. If anyone had a wedding or a funeral, they would naturally come to find him.


    The fierce snowstorm covered his black hair, and the sight of him looked more weathered and worn, as if time had added layers of desolation to his figure.


    The plum blossoms at the street corner were blooming particularly vividly, adding a touch of red to the otherwise pale, snow-covered street.


    Such cold weather, it seemed unlikely there would be any work today.


    Had he known this, he would have stayed under the warm covers a little longer.


    As this thought crossed his mind, Chen Fan decided to head to the tavern, have a warm bowl of wine to heat himself up, and then return home to sleep.


    But just as he turned around, he unexpectedly came face-to-face with a procession of wedding carriages.


    Chen Fan tried to limp his way out of their path.


    Yet, he was knocked over by one of the carriages, flipping him over completely.


    Wen, the young woman, lifted the curtain of the carriage, her face full of apology. Dressed in red bridal attire, her appearance unmistakably declared her role for the day.


    Chen Fan got up, patted the snow and dust off his clothes, and waved his hand to indicate it was no big deal.


    Still, he felt a bit melancholic inside.


    Today was Wen''s wedding day, which meant he likely wouldn''t even get a bowl of wine at the tavern.


    Chen Fan let out a slight sigh, struck his crutch firmly on the ground, and was about to leave.


    "Wait..."


    Wen called out to him.


    ¡­


    Chen Fan ended up becoming part of the wedding procession.


    The sound of drums and gongs filled the air, firecrackers exploded in bursts of red, and his rendition of Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix outshone all the other commotion, becoming the brightest presence amidst the lively noise.


    Today, Chen Fan played with extra effort.


    Not because of the meager rewards the system gave him.


    He was simply hoping that, after the ceremony was done, he could enjoy a hearty meal at the wedding feast.


    If he could get a steaming bowl of hot wine paired with warm, savory braised pork, well, that would be life at its finest.


    However, when Chen Fan finally sat down at the banquet, he was dumbfounded.


    No matter what dish was served, the other guests at the table seemed to finish it in the blink of an eye.


    Chen Fan held his chopsticks, wanting to stand up and fight for food.


    But his lame leg wouldn''t cooperate, and he couldn''t get up.


    The people around him thought he was being timid and pushed him teasingly:The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Cripple, what are you staring at? Eat, or are you waiting for someone to feed you?"


    Chen Fan: "I¡­ you¡­ I''m not hungry."


    In the end, the entire table of food left him with only half a peanut.


    Chen Fan ate the remaining half of the peanut, patted his empty stomach, and resigned himself to the fact that he had technically "eaten" at the banquet.


    Using his crutch to stand up, Chen Fan wobbled and swayed as he joined the departing guests.


    Once again, he was going to bed hungry.


    But he had grown used to it¡ªit was nothing new.


    Skipping one meal, eating one meal, that wasn''t a big deal. He had gone three days without food before.


    As he approached the threshold of the hall, the exiting crowd was somewhat crowded.


    Chen Fan stepped aside, deciding to wait for a bit.


    Before long, he felt a weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw that Wen, still in her bridal attire, had placed a gourd of wine and several packed dishes into his hands.


    "Mr. Chen, thank you for your hard work today."


    Chen Fan was stunned. Before he could react, Wen had already turned and gone back to join her husband in sending off the guests.


    Standing there alone, Chen Fan opened the stopper of the gourd.


    A rich, fragrant aroma of wine wafted out.


    It was still warm!


    From that day onward, Chen Fan''s waist no longer carried just a brass suona; there was now also a wine gourd.


    Though, more often than not, it was empty.


    One deep night, half-asleep, Chen Fan felt his Body Refinement Technique operating slowly on its own.


    [Ding, Body Refinement Technique: 20%]


    Chen Fan woke up with a start, surprise written across his face.


    Finally, a breakthrough?


    These past days, he had completed the system''s daily tasks sporadically.


    Since there were no punishments for not completing them, he hadn''t taken them seriously.


    But today, he finally understood what the accumulated experience points were for.


    The more experience points he had, the stronger he became.


    Yes, that had to be it.


    It seemed this system wasn''t as useless as he had thought. Aside from extending his lifespan, it did have other functions.


    Chen Fan closed his eyes again, sensing the unknown energy within him that had become slightly more substantial.


    It continuously washed through his bones and muscles.


    Although he still had no cultivation to speak of, at least his physical body was no longer that of an ordinary person.


    The most noticeable change? Chen Fan used to only be able to eat two large steamed buns in one sitting.


    Now, he could eat ten!


    That''s how impressive it was.


    However, this change in his body hadn''t brought any material improvements to his life.


    He still showed up at the tavern every now and then.


    Ordering a bowl of wine and a plate of peanuts, he would sit there like a wooden figure, letting people mock and ridicule him for their amusement.


    The tavern was quieter now without Wen. Business wasn''t as lively as before.


    At the very least, there were far fewer young men frequenting the place.


    Chen Fan was the only young man who still came here to drink.


    It wasn''t because of any sentimental attachment.


    The main reason was that the wine here was cheap and pure.


    Unlike the watered-down wine at other establishments, Chen Fan could tell the difference with one sniff.


    Some of it was so diluted, even stray dogs wouldn''t drink it.


    Lately, Chen Fan had been hearing one topic repeatedly in the tavern¡ªEr Biao had disappeared.


    No one knew where he had gone.


    For the townsfolk, losing such a troublemaker was good news.


    However, according to the town gossip, Er Biao had been taken by an immortal from the heavens to serve as a gatekeeper.


    The townsfolk were abuzz with discussion, saying that Er Biao must have extraordinary luck.


    To be recruited by an immortal, even to be touched by the divine, was considered an unparalleled blessing for mere mortals.


    Some people spoke with envy glinting in their eyes.


    Chen Fan, seemingly focused on drinking wine and eating peanuts, had actually been eavesdropping on their gossip the entire time.


    Heavenly immortals and earthly gods¡­


    What did they even look like? He had never truly seen one.


    In his previous life, when he played the suona for the dead, he occasionally heard people mention that the deceased had "ridden a crane to the heavens."


    So, did that mean, by extension, that all heavenly immortals were just dead people?


    Chen Fan didn''t dwell on the thought. In any case, it had nothing to do with him.


    Downing the last of his wine, Chen Fan pulled the gourd from his waist.


    "Boss, fill it up."


    This gourd hadn''t been filled in ages; it had become more of an accessory at his side.


    Its greatest use was when Chen Fan''s craving for alcohol struck.


    Opening the stopper to take a sniff wouldn''t satisfy the craving, but it could at least clear his mind.


    Recently, there had been a spike in funerals around Maplewood Town.


    Chen Fan was often called upon to stand by coffins, playing his suona all day long.


    His presence had even taken the place of some filial sons who didn''t want to kneel and mourn by the altar.


    Naturally, this also meant Chen Fan''s pockets were a little heavier with copper coins.


    With some money in his pocket, a person felt more secure.


    And with that sense of security came the confidence to call out "fill it up" in a loud voice.


    Moments later, the innkeeper handed Chen Fan back his gourd, now filled with wine.


    Chen Fan pulled out a few coins and habitually laid them out neatly on the counter.


    Then, hanging the gourd back on his waist, he strode off without looking back.

 Coming with force

    The rainy season had arrived.


    Chen Fan donned a straw raincoat and looked up at the sky, seeing a vast expanse of dark clouds.


    A raindrop the size of a bean splashed onto his face, and Chen Fan instinctively wiped his face with his hand.


    The entire broken temple was filled with a rotting stench.


    Just a couple of days ago, someone passing by the temple caught a whiff of the foul odor and immediately assumed that Chen Fan had died.


    They ran straight back to town to spread the news.


    That incident left Chen Fan feeling depressed for days, asking anyone he met on the streets why he wasn''t dead yet.


    Sigh...


    If he ever had the money, he''d fix this place up properly.


    At the very least, he needed somewhere he could live with dignity.


    Chen Fan reached into his pocket and pulled out a few copper coins.


    He counted them¡ªseven in total.


    ... He stared at them silently for a moment.


    With so few coins, what was the point of talking about renovations? Better to go have a drink instead.


    Struggling to get up, Chen Fan propped himself on his crutch and hobbled out of the dilapidated temple.


    The rain came down in a fine drizzle, pattering against his straw raincoat before dripping through the seams.


    Chen Fan didn''t walk quickly, so before long, he was soaked to the skin.


    Suddenly, a figure darted past him at high speed.


    Chen Fan looked carefully and recognized the old blind man who begged on the streets.


    Ahead of him were two puddles, one on the left and one on the right. The old blind man was about to step into them.


    Chen Fan couldn''t help but call out:


    "Blind man, there''s a puddle!"


    The old blind man was remarkably quick to react. The moment he heard the warning, he made a movement to dodge.


    Then, right in front of Chen Fan, he leapt out of one puddle and straight into another.


    "Ah, ow!"


    The old blind man landed hard and was covered in filthy water. When Chen Fan helped him up, the man sniffed hard and exclaimed:


    "Cripple?!"


    Wasting no time, the blind man grabbed Chen Fan''s arm and urged him:


    "Quick, cripple, you''ve got work! Let''s hurry, maybe we can even snag a meal!"


    Chen Fan could play the suona.


    The blind man could play the erhu.


    Together, they made quite the duo and had eaten at many banquet tables in the town because of their performances.


    However, the blind man wasn''t as popular as Chen Fan, largely because of his age and the fact that on joyous occasions, no one wanted to hear the erhu''s somber, melancholic tunes.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The two of them supported each other as they made their way to the town.


    Their destination was a mourning hall adorned with white banners.


    Wen sat in front of the shrine, her eyes hollow and her face devoid of expression.


    Her husband was dead.


    Rumor had it that he got drunk and angered an immortal descending to the mortal realm for a stroll. The immortal had slapped him into oblivion, leaving not even a trace of him behind.


    Now, the coffin only contained a few pieces of his clothing, serving as a cenotaph.


    But such an outrageous story was hard to believe.


    The town was already buzzing with rumors. People said that Wen''s husband, before marriage, had been a cheerful and optimistic young man with a decent family background.


    But after the marriage, it was as if he became a different person, spending all his time in brothels, staying out all night, and squandering money on wine and revelry.


    Privately, people whispered that Wen was cursed to bring misfortune to her husband, a harbinger of death. They claimed it was because of her that a good man had fallen so low.


    But only Wen knew the truth.


    No matter how well someone pretends, they''ll eventually reveal cracks in their facade.


    She could only blame herself for her poor judgment, for wasting the best years of her life on him.


    Chen Fan had a sense of professionalism.


    After pausing briefly, he took the suona from his waist.


    He began to play Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix, offering the tune to those present.


    The blind man quickly followed suit, not wanting to fall behind and risk missing out on the post-funeral feast.


    The two of them harmonized beautifully, like flowing water and towering mountains.


    Their music added an even greater sense of sorrow and grief to the atmosphere.


    Just as they were playing, the large doors behind them suddenly burst open with a loud bang.


    Chen Fan, cheeks puffed up as he blew into the suona, was so startled that he almost swallowed the breath he was holding.


    "Who dares to defy the immortal master?!"


    After years of absence, Er Biao reappeared, his hair long, wearing a Daoist robe, carrying a longsword, and with tassels dangling from his waist. He swaggered into the hall.


    Behind him followed several other children in Daoist robes.


    The arrival of these individuals plunged the mourning hall into silence.


    Seeing Er Biao''s attire and sword, it was clear he now bore the marks of immortality.


    No one could have anticipated that the rat everyone once despised would one day become someone none of them could afford to offend.


    The room fell into an uneasy silence; no one dared to answer Er Biao''s question.


    It was Wen who eventually stood and addressed the crowd:


    "This is a family matter. Everyone, please leave."


    The mourners breathed sighs of relief at her words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off their chests, and quickly began to disperse.


    Er Biao had entered with an air of menace, and no one wanted to risk getting involved.


    Soon, the large mourning hall was nearly empty, save for Er Biao and his group, the innkeeper, and Wen herself.


    Chen Fan, who walked slowly, hadn''t left yet.


    Watching the blind man vanish into the distance at an impressive speed, Chen Fan couldn''t help but feel bewildered.


    How could a blind man run so fast without fear of tripping to his death?


    Resigned, Chen Fan continued limping along with his crutch.


    Er Biao spotted him immediately.


    "What''s this? A cripple wants to meddle in the affairs of the immortal family?"


    Chen Fan: "I¡­"


    "You what? Since you''re not leaving, you might as well stay."


    Er Biao was still the same as ever. After spending years in the immortal household, his arrogance hadn''t diminished one bit; if anything, it had grown worse.


    Chen Fan widened his eyes in disbelief, stunned.


    Was he seriously getting bullied just for being slow?


    He hadn''t even said he wouldn''t leave!


    Still, Chen Fan stayed, curious to see how the so-called immortals handled matters.


    Er Biao snorted coldly and turned his attention to Wen:


    "The immortal master is magnanimous. Your husband dared to offend an immortal while he was¡­ on a stroll in the mortal realm. His death was well-deserved."


    "However¡­"


    Pop.


    A crisp sound interrupted Er Biao''s words.


    Chen Fan had taken the gourd from his waist and pulled out the stopper.


    Er Biao shot him a glare but said nothing, ready to continue.


    Gulp, gulp.


    The sound of Chen Fan swallowing wine echoed in the hall.


    Er Biao lost his temper and reached out to snatch the gourd, but Chen Fan dodged deftly.


    "Drink, drink, drink! If you drink any more, I''ll end you!"


    Failing to grab the gourd, Er Biao unsheathed his sword with a flash of cold light.


    Chen Fan had no choice but to set the gourd down and gesture for Er Biao to continue.


    Er Biao sheathed his sword and said:


    "However, the immortal master is short of a maid to serve tea and water. If you¡­"


    As he spoke, Er Biao''s expression turned lecherous, his gaze shamelessly roaming over Wen''s figure.


    Although Wen was now a widow, her figure and beauty were still outstanding.


    Er Biao thought of himself as Cao Cao, ready to "interview" her personally on behalf of the immortal master.


    Wen and her father both heard the hidden implication in Er Biao''s words.


    Wen bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of hesitation and despair.


    Er Biao pressed on impatiently:


    "What''s the¡ª"


    Hic!


    A perfectly timed hiccup drew everyone''s attention.


    Chen Fan looked up, meeting Er Biao''s furious gaze. He clasped his hands together apologetically and said:


    "Sorry, couldn''t hold it in¡­"


    "Kill him!"

 Let鈥檚 go together?

    The sound of blades being unsheathed rang out with a sharp swish.


    Several of the Daoist-robed disciples charged at Chen Fan in a flurry.


    [Body Refinement Technique (80%)]


    Holding his crutch in one hand, Chen Fan easily blocked their attacks.


    With just a little extra force, he sent the Daoist-robed disciples flying to the side.


    Before Er Biao could even react, he found a crutch pressing against his chest.


    Both parties were equally stunned.


    Er Biao couldn''t believe that the usually silent and unassuming Chen Fan possessed such strength.


    Chen Fan, on the other hand, was surprised by how weak Er Biao and the others, despite years of training under immortals, actually were.


    It seemed like he barely used any effort to subdue them.


    After a moment of stunned silence, Er Biao finally snapped out of it.


    He stared at the crutch pressed against his chest, his expression shifting between shock and fury.


    Attempting to push it away, he found himself wincing in pain as Chen Fan applied more pressure.


    "You cripple, do you even know what you''re doing?" Er Biao shouted at Chen Fan in rage.


    Chen Fan shook his head calmly.


    "I don''t know. I only know you were about to kill me."


    "You¡­ the consequences of a mortal offending the immortal family¡­"


    Thud!


    Before Er Biao could finish his sentence, Chen Fan jabbed the crutch forward.


    The sharp end of the crutch struck directly at Er Biao''s chest, right over his heart.


    The sudden impact sent Er Biao flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground. Blood began to gush from a hole in his chest, soaking his robes.


    A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of Er Biao''s mouth as he lay on the ground, looking utterly disheveled and in agony.


    Though Chen Fan had held back enough not to kill him, the blow caused intense pain, leaving Er Biao trembling and weakened.


    The remaining Daoist-robed disciples dared not speak. They hurriedly helped the injured Er Biao to his feet, their gazes dark and venomous as they stared at Chen Fan. Slowly, they retreated.


    Wen''s father and Wen herself, who had witnessed the entire scene, were left speechless with shock.


    It took a long moment before they could fully process what had just happened.


    Chen Fan had saved them.


    Had it not been for Chen Fan, the aftermath of this incident would have been unimaginable.


    They had long heard whispers that not all the immortals flying in the skies above were benevolent.


    Some, it was said, specifically targeted virtuous women to use as "cauldrons," draining them of their vitality and throwing their lifeless bodies down mountainsides to be devoured by wild beasts.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Of course, these were only rumors, and Wen couldn''t confirm their truth.


    But her gratitude toward Chen Fan came from the depths of her heart.


    "Thank you, Mr. Chen¡­"


    Pop!


    Before she could finish her sentence, Chen Fan uncorked his gourd.


    He tipped it over, hoping to pour some wine into his mouth, but nothing came out except for a few murky drops that dripped down from the gourd''s rim.


    Chen Fan opened his mouth to catch them, savoring the taste with an expression of pure enjoyment.


    After smacking his lips and exhaling deeply, his face turned a little despondent as he murmured:


    "Out of wine again¡­"


    At the tavern.


    Wen refilled Chen Fan''s gourd and even brought him an additional bowl of wine.


    It was still warm.


    "Mr. Chen, have a bowl of wine to chase away the dampness."


    "Thank you. By the way, do you have any steamed buns?"


    Wen paused for a moment, then replied quickly:


    "Yes, yes we do."


    Soon, a plate of steamed buns was placed on the table.


    Chen Fan broke off a piece and dropped it into the bowl of wine.


    As he watched the fluffy white piece of bun sink slowly into the liquid, he said:


    "Pack up your things and leave this place."


    Though Er Biao and his companions had been easily dealt with, they were still disciples of the immortal family. There was no way they would let this father and daughter off so easily.


    The best course of action now was to leave¡ªgo as far as possible.


    "What about you, Mr. Chen?" Wen asked softly.


    "Me?" Chen Fan pointed at himself with a self-deprecating smile.


    "A cripple like me? The farthest I''ve ever traveled is into someone else''s trap. I''ve never even left Windrise Town. Where else can I go?"


    As he spoke, Chen Fan placed his suona on the table with a light tap.


    A suona and a crutch¡ªthese were all he had.


    Wen, sensing that Chen Fan had no intention of leaving, hesitated for a moment before gathering her courage to speak:


    "Mr. Chen, why don''t you come with us?"


    "Come with you?"


    Chen Fan seemed a little surprised. He opened his mouth to reply but was distracted when he noticed that the bun in his bowl had absorbed all the wine.


    Without another word, he lifted the bowl to his lips.


    The bitter wine and wine-soaked bun melted in his mouth, sending a comforting warmth coursing through his body.


    For a moment, the damp, decaying weather didn''t seem so dreary anymore.


    His taste buds and stomach both felt fully satisfied.


    After setting the bowl down, he let out a loud burp, then reached into his pocket and placed a few copper coins on the table.


    He picked up his suona and crutch and packed up the two remaining buns on the table.


    After walking a few steps, the innkeeper hurried after him and pressed the coins back into Chen Fan''s hand.


    "Consider the food and drink on the house."


    Chen Fan didn''t hesitate to accept the coins, thanking the innkeeper before stepping out of the tavern.


    "Mr. Chen, take care!" Wen called after him as she watched his retreating figure.


    But her father gently tugged at her sleeve.


    "Go pack up your things. If we wait any longer, it''ll be too late."


    Hearing this, Wen felt little attachment to the town.


    There wasn''t much here worth staying for.


    Her only lingering concern was for the crippled Mr. Chen.


    Alone, with no family, relying on his music to make a living, yet living with such carefree ease.


    Deep down, Wen admired Chen Fan. Now, that admiration was tinged with a faint, indescribable gratitude.


    After leaving the tavern, Chen Fan initially planned to return to the broken temple and take a nap.


    But after walking for a while, he realized it might not be a good idea.


    Instead, he found a noodle stall by the roadside and sat down.


    He pulled out a few copper coins but didn''t order any food.


    He was already full.


    The stall owner recognized Chen Fan and didn''t charge him, letting him sit there as he pleased.


    It was the rainy season, and the streets were quiet with few passersby.


    There were even fewer customers coming for noodles, so Chen Fan''s presence didn''t impact business.


    Occasionally, he would play a tune or two on his suona, which might even attract some customers.


    But as he sat there, he dozed off, his body leaning against the counter.


    He slept until the middle of the night, when the patter of rain woke him.


    Opening his eyes, he found the surrounding area pitch-black. The stalls had all closed, and no one had bothered to wake him.


    Chen Fan didn''t mind.


    But he suddenly remembered that he might have forgotten to shut the temple door before leaving.


    His face darkened with concern.


    Though there wasn''t much worth stealing in the broken temple, it was still his home.


    The drizzle continued, and the canopy of the noodle stall offered him some shelter from the rain.


    Chen Fan glanced around, wondering when this rainy season would finally end.


    The constant rain had cast a shadow over his heart, one he couldn''t seem to shake off.


    But then he thought to himself, After the rain comes sunshine.


    The thought lightened his mood slightly.


    Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of the buns he had taken earlier. It had gone a bit stale, but that didn''t affect Chen Fan''s appetite.


    With a bite of the bun and a sip of wine, he felt a sense of satisfaction.


    Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached, growing louder and nearer.


    Chen Fan could clearly hear the splashes as someone walked through puddles, accompanied by the clinking of metal.


    He frowned, a little annoyed.


    He hadn''t even finished his bun yet.

 I am a bandit!

    The day after Chen Fan left, heavy rain fell again in Fenglai Town.


    In the farthest corner of the town, the dilapidated temple collapsed under the downpour, raising a cloud of dust that quickly dissipated in the rain.


    When the rain stopped, the townspeople discovered the ruins of the temple and Chen Fan''s departure. They merely sighed.


    Perhaps it was the lingering presence of the temple''s spiritual energy, or maybe it was the vitality that Chen Fan brought with him, which allowed the old structure to last as long as it did.


    Speculation abounded, but no one cared much about Chen Fan¡¯s whereabouts.


    Just a cripple, after all¡ªa subject for idle gossip over tea and meals.


    If it wasn¡¯t Chen Fan, it would have been someone else.


    Before long, though, someone discovered the body of the yellow-robed elder outside the local tavern, along with the lifeless, dazed expressions of Er Biao and the others.


    The news of an immortal master being killed¡ªright in Fenglai Town¡ªwas earth-shattering for its residents.


    The local authorities were quickly alerted. The surviving Er Biao and his group were taken in for questioning.


    But Er Biao only laughed foolishly and suddenly began convulsing in the yamen. In his frantic movements, he accidentally kicked a doorframe, fell headfirst onto the stone floor, and died as blood pooled around him.


    With Er Biao gone, the remaining disciples in Daoist robes recounted what had happened the previous night.


    Soon, Chen Fan¡¯s portrait spread far and wide, carried by the wind.


    It caused little stir.


    In a world where mortals and immortals coexisted, there weren¡¯t many clear distinctions between right and wrong.


    The dead were simply dead.


    Chen Fan¡¯s image hung on the wanted boards for a time, but wind and rain eventually eroded it, replaced by other wanted notices.


    It was as if none of it had ever happened.


    ...


    With a straw hat tilted in the setting sun, green hills receded into the distance.


    On the main road, the sunset painted a beautiful landscape.


    Exhausted, Chen Fan stopped where he was and looked up at the sky.


    He admired the sunset, occasionally seeing birds flying past, their silhouettes adding to the scene''s beauty.


    If not for the empty gourd at his waist, he might have chosen to spend the night here.


    But now, he couldn¡¯t linger¡ªhe had to get to the city to buy wine.


    As beautiful as the scenery was, one look was enough for Chen Fan.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    To him, it couldn¡¯t compare to a pot of wine among the flowers.


    Using his crutch for support, Chen Fan resumed his wobbly steps.


    In this time of walking and stopping, he had left the boundaries of Fenglai Town.


    He just didn¡¯t know how far it was to the nearest town.


    Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves echoed behind him, followed by a loud shout:


    ¡°Hey, cripple! Limping in the middle of the road? Do you want to die?¡±


    Before Chen Fan could step aside, several black-brown horses rushed past, brushing by him and kicking up a cloud of dust.


    Chen Fan stood still, wiping the dust off his face.


    ¡°Ptooey, ptooey.¡±


    It must be nice to have a horse, he thought.


    Chen Fan couldn¡¯t help but marvel but wasn¡¯t envious.


    After all, he had made it this far on his own two feet.


    For someone like him, time and perseverance were the least of his concerns.


    The road ahead was long, but it was just a matter of effort.


    But before long, the same group of riders returned, retracing their path.


    At the front was a black-faced man with a wide grin.


    Looking at Chen Fan¡¯s attire, he chuckled and said, ¡°Brother, with bandits roaming the hills, aren¡¯t you afraid of being robbed walking alone like this?¡±


    Chen Fan shook his head and patted his pockets, which were emptier than his stomach.


    ¡°Afraid? Not really.¡±


    ¡°Well then,¡± the man said with a laugh, ¡°it just so happens we¡¯re heading to the city. Seeing as you¡¯re struggling with that leg, why not come with us?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t afford to pay you.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t talk money for lending a hand.¡±


    The black-faced man grinned and extended his hand toward Chen Fan.


    ¡°Well, thank you kindly.¡±


    Chen Fan raised his crutch, letting the man grab it and hoist him onto the horse.


    ¡°Hyah!¡±


    With a shout, the black-faced man spurred his horse forward, the others quickly following.


    ¡°How far is it to the city?¡± Chen Fan asked.


    ¡°Not far, about half an hour¡¯s walk¡ªor just fifteen minutes on horseback.¡±


    The man answered, his voice carried by the wind.


    ¡°And what might your name be, good sir?¡±


    ¡°The name¡¯s Zhang, Zhang Mazi. Those are my brothers¡ªdifferent fathers, different mothers¡ªbut we¡¯re all men who do good deeds without leaving names!¡±


    ¡°Really, Brother Zhang?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Zhang Mazi laughed heartily.


    Chen Fan fell silent.


    Warmth surged in his heart. Regardless of everything else, this half-hour journey on foot would have taken him half a day.


    Now, on horseback, it would take just fifteen minutes.


    There were still good people in the world.


    But as they rode, Chen Fan began to sense something was off.


    The once-wide road narrowed considerably.


    On the roadside, discarded sacks and torn clothing became more frequent.


    Chen Fan froze.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the way to the city!¡±


    ¡°Hahahaha~¡±


    The riders behind him, including Zhang Mazi, burst into laughter.


    ¡°Brother, we¡¯ve got ourselves a rookie this time!¡±


    ¡°This one¡¯s going to be fun. Hey, Third Brother, weren¡¯t you short of a helper?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and he¡¯s not bad-looking, even with that limp. He¡¯s got a refined, elegant vibe.¡±


    Listening to their chatter, Chen Fan was stunned.


    ¡°Wait, didn¡¯t you say you¡¯re men who do good deeds without leaving names?¡±


    Zhang Mazi grinned wickedly.


    ¡°That¡¯s right¡ªgood deeds without leaving lives!¡±


    ¡°Listen up! There aren¡¯t other bandits in these hills. I¡¯m the bandit!¡±


    ...


    Qingfeng Stronghold.


    Calling it a stronghold was an insult to the name.


    In reality, it was just a small gang of seven or eight, hiding in a large forest and robbing passing travelers.


    When the authorities searched the hills, they would hide like mice, evading capture.


    A few makeshift huts formed the entirety of their operation.


    Inside, Chen Fan was released without any restrictions.


    The gang wasn¡¯t worried he¡¯d escape¡ªafter all, he was crippled. Where could he go?


    Chen Fan adapted quickly.


    Barely seated, he noticed a few uneaten pancakes and a jug of murky liquor on the table.


    Without hesitation, he grabbed them and started eating.


    Seeing this, Zhang Mazi¡¯s temper flared. He raised a foot to kick Chen Fan.


    ¡°Hey, we brought you here to work, not to enjoy yourself!¡±


    Before the kick landed, Chen Fan blocked it with his crutch.


    ¡°Work? What kind of work?¡±


    ¡°Guarding, chores, chopping wood, feeding the horses...¡±


    Listening to Zhang Mazi rattle off a list of tasks, Chen Fan shook his head.


    ¡°That¡¯s too much work. How about I play you a tune on the suona instead?¡±


    Only then did Zhang Mazi and his gang notice the suona at Chen Fan¡¯s waist.


    A cripple playing the suona¡ªit was certainly novel.


    Grinning, Zhang Mazi saw it as an unexpected bonus.


    He nodded, signaling Chen Fan to proceed.


    And so, Chen Fan lifted the suona to his lips...

 Warm a bottle of wine

    Clang! The sound of swords being unsheathed rang out sharply.


    A group of Daoist-robed disciples, along with the severely injured Er Biao, escorted an elderly man in a yellow robe as they slowly emerged from the far end of the road.


    Er Biao had that familiar obsequious grin plastered on his face.


    "That wench surnamed Wen¡ªher beauty isn''t just unmatched in Windrise Town, but in all of Qingyun County, she''s in a league of her own. There''s no way those courtesans in places like the Blossoming Pavilion could even compare."


    The yellow-robed elder raised his hand, signaling for silence.


    "I have worked hard for many years. I am but a single step away from entering the Body Refinement Realm. This cauldron is of utmost importance¡ªthere can be no room for failure!"


    Including Er Biao, all of the Daoist-robed disciples immediately bowed, their voices filled with reverence.


    "Yes, Elder!"


    The weapons in their hands clanged softly, blending with the sound of the rain, creating a chilling, murderous aura.


    As they moved forward, a limping figure suddenly appeared in the drizzle.


    The figure moved unsteadily, hobbling along as though he were a lone leaf in the rain, tossed about by the wind, ready to fall at any moment.


    "That cripple?"


    Er Biao squinted through the night rain and recognized Chen Fan.


    "You still dare to show up?!"


    Once he realized who it was, Er Biao quickly raised a hand to point at Chen Fan, his tone a mixture of false bravado and genuine fear as he addressed the yellow-robed elder beside him.


    "Elder, that''s him! He''s the one who ruined your plans earlier today!"


    "Oh?"


    The yellow-robed elder''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "This boy seems to have some skill, but those who oppose the Liuyun Immortal Sect never come to a good end."


    Chen Fan, upon hearing this, turned and spotted Er Biao.


    He grinned.


    "Well, if it isn''t Er Biao. Fancy seeing you again."


    Despite his soaked clothing and disheveled hair, Chen Fan casually ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down as he muttered to himself, "Even stepping out to buy wine, I have to run into such bad luck."


    Then, turning back with a bright smile, he said to the group:


    "The road is slippery when it rains. Be careful not to sprain an ankle."


    Er Biao''s fury boiled over at Chen Fan''s nonchalant attitude.


    The yellow-robed elder, for his part, had never encountered someone so brazen in his life.


    His eyes flickered with anger, and just as he was about to order his men to attack, the sound of a creaking door interrupted the tense standoff.


    The door to the tavern opened, and Wen and her father stepped out, holding an oil-paper umbrella and carrying bags of gold and silver.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The sudden movement broke the stalemate.


    Chen Fan chuckled, glancing at Wen and then back at Er Biao and his group.


    "So, this is what all the fuss is about. How about this¡ªI''ll mediate. Give me some face, and we''ll call it even. What do you say?"


    "Give you face? What face do you have?"


    Er Biao exploded in anger, drawing his sword in one swift motion.


    In the rainy night, the blade gleamed like a bolt of lightning, briefly illuminating the surrounding area.


    The flash of light cast a fleeting reflection of Chen Fan''s hunched figure¡ªstill the same crutch, still the same suona at his side.


    Within moments, the other Daoist disciples also unsheathed their swords.


    In that brief instant, Chen Fan had enough time to unhook the gourd from his waist and toss it backward to Wen, saying in a steady voice:


    "Warm me a pot of wine. I''ll drink it later."


    Wen caught the gourd and, staring at Chen Fan''s rain-blurred figure, couldn''t help but ask in a trembling voice:


    "Mr. Chen, what about you?"


    "You go ahead. I''ll finish my wine and catch up."


    In the blink of an eye, the swords closed in.


    Chen Fan had no time to answer further.


    He felt the energy within his body stir violently, warming him from the inside out.


    [Body Refinement Technique (80%)]


    In that moment, Chen Fan felt an immense power coursing through him, his entire being brimming with untapped energy.


    Left with no other outlet, he raised his crutch.


    What once seemed like a simple walking stick now swept through the air, unleashing a powerful force like an invisible blade.


    If one were to slow down the scene, even the raindrops in midair shattered into smaller droplets, dispersing into mist under the force of his strike.


    A sword aiming for Chen Fan''s chest was deflected with a single swing, clattering to the side.


    Clang!


    The blade snapped into two pieces, and the Daoist disciple wielding it gasped in pain as the sound of cracking bones reached his ears.


    Looking down, he realized his arm was broken.


    The rest of the disciples didn''t fare much better. In just a matter of moments, all of them lay sprawled in the rain, defeated.


    The yellow-robed elder, who had yet to make a move, observed Chen Fan''s actions with sharp, piercing eyes.


    As his men fell one by one, he finally spoke, his tone cold:


    "I''ll admit you have some skill. But you''re still too green. With just a single move, I''ll show you what a true immortal is capable of!"


    As he finished speaking, the elder raised his arm slightly, clenching his fist.


    A faint, swirling energy began to gather around his hand.


    But in the next instant, a crutch flew through the air.


    Taking advantage of the elder''s focus on gathering energy, the crutch pierced straight through his chest without any resistance.


    The yellow-robed elder''s eyes widened in shock as his strength left him, the gathered energy dissipating entirely.


    As he collapsed to the ground, he used the last of his strength to look at Chen Fan, blood spilling from his mouth as he stammered:


    "Body¡­ Refinement¡­ Realm?"


    Chen Fan, now crutchless, hopped over to the elder''s fallen body.


    He reached down and pulled the crutch from the elder''s chest, which only worsened the old man''s condition.


    With a final shudder, the elder''s eyes rolled back, and he stopped breathing.


    The rain quickly washed the blood from the crutch as Chen Fan stood in the downpour, his thin figure hunched as always, as though he could never quite straighten his back.


    Body Refinement Realm?


    He had no idea what that meant.


    After all, he was just a cripple.


    Phew.


    Chen Fan let out a long breath, shivering slightly from the cold.


    Even though it was the fifth or sixth month of the year, he felt a chill deep in his bones, likely from the exhaustion of the fight.


    There was no denying it¡ªthe Body Refinement Technique was useful.


    At the very least, it shut up unreasonable people.


    Glancing around at the bodies on the ground, Chen Fan ignored Er Biao and the others, brushing off his clothes as he hobbled back toward the tavern.


    Inside, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated a small table where a freshly filled gourd of warm wine awaited him.


    Beside it lay a dry blue robe and a slip of paper.


    The note detailed Wen and her father''s destination, along with a single line: "We''ll wait for you."


    Chen Fan glanced at the note before placing it on the candle flame.


    The paper caught fire instantly, burning to ashes before his eyes.


    He changed into the dry robe and sat quietly in the empty tavern, sipping his wine.


    Time passed, and the rain finally stopped.


    Chen Fan stood, stepping into the night and leaving the tavern behind.


    The direction he walked was the exact opposite of the one Wen and her father had taken.


    He didn''t do all this for some sense of justice or to gain fame or fortune.


    He did it because, one bitter winter long ago, he''d drunk a bowl of wine-soaked bread.


    Perhaps it was the wine gourd at his waist that stirred something deep within him¡ªa heart that had lain dormant for too long, awakened by the warmth of the drink.


    In that moment, the seasons seemed to change, and the gloom in his heart lifted just a little.


    As the first rays of dawn lit the horizon, painting the sky with hues of gold, Chen Fan stood at the edge of the road and looked up.


    "Well, would you look at that¡ªit''s sunny."

 Horse, horse, doodle, ride

    Hundreds of musical instruments, yet the suona reigns supreme.


    When the suona sounds, it¡¯s either for a wedding or a funeral.


    Among all instruments, the suona might not be the most melodious, but its sound is undoubtedly the most striking.


    As the melody reached its climax, Zhang Mazi and his companions were already deeply intoxicated by the high-pitched and melodious tune.


    They were coarse men who couldn¡¯t truly appreciate it.


    They only felt the sound was incredibly sharp, stirring, and heart-shaking¡ªlistening to it made their blood boil.


    So, when the tune ended, they couldn¡¯t help but clap and cheer.


    They didn¡¯t notice, however, that Chen Fan, having put down his suona, quietly raised his crutch.


    A whooshing sound cut through the air, followed by a series of muffled groans.


    Never in their wildest dreams did Zhang Mazi and his men think they would be ambushed by a cripple wielding a crutch.


    After dealing with them, Chen Fan didn¡¯t feel the least bit of heroism or satisfaction from righting wrongs.


    Inside the small wooden cabin, the walls were adorned with stolen goods looted by Zhang Mazi and his gang.


    There were also a few decorations that had been turned into bed sheets.


    Upon closer inspection of the patterns, one could vaguely make out that they seemed to be pieced together from human skin.


    Chen Fan glanced at them briefly, then averted his gaze.


    With a poke of his crutch, he reached toward the candlestick on the table.


    With a soft clink, the candle wax spilled onto the ground, accompanied by a pungent smell as the flames began to rise.


    After doing all this, Chen Fan slowly walked out and closed the door behind him.


    As he turned around, he was startled to see a young girl of about fourteen or fifteen years old standing behind him with a laundry basin in her arms.


    Her rosy cheeks were dusted with soapberry powder used for washing clothes.


    When she saw Chen Fan, her eyes curved into crescents like a crescent moon.


    Her smile revealed two small, sharp canine teeth.


    Her clear eyes seemed to carry a hint of spring, tender and budding.


    Chen Fan suddenly felt as though he¡¯d done something wrong. He turned back to glance behind him, wondering if she had seen what just happened.


    ¡°Sir, you play the suona so beautifully.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yao Yao wants to hear more.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to hear?¡±


    ¡°I want to hear ¡®Ma Ma Du Du Ride...¡¯¡±


    On the mountain path, two figures, one tall and one short, moved along.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Behind them, flames roared into the sky.


    Yao Yao was an orphan who, years ago, had made a living washing clothes at the laundry shop in Liuguang City.


    Later, she was abducted by human traffickers. On her way out of the city, she was coincidentally kidnapped by Zhang Mazi and his gang.


    Because she was obedient and sensible, Zhang Mazi and his gang kept her around to handle tasks like serving tea, washing clothes, and cooking meals.


    Now, she had met Chen Fan.


    ¡°Ma Ma Du Du Ride?¡±


    That stumped Chen Fan for a moment. After wracking his brain, he vaguely recalled it was a children¡¯s song from this world.


    He seemed to have heard other kids humming it once during a funeral he worked at.


    Relying on his memory, Chen Fan picked up the suona.


    ¡°Ma Ma Du Du Ride, riding all the way to Ga Ga Town~¡±


    To the tune of the suona, Yao Yao couldn¡¯t help but hum along.


    The cheerful melody momentarily lifted Chen Fan¡¯s spirits, making him forget his troubles¡ªonly to suddenly remember.


    As a cripple, he seemed to have no real troubles to speak of.


    ¡°To bear a bamboo raincoat through misty rain, neither joy nor sorrow.¡±


    Having food to eat and wine to drink was happiness enough.


    The night breeze carried away the sound of the suona and the singing, along with Chen Fan¡¯s drifting thoughts.


    It felt as though there were no more worries left in the world.


    ¡¾Host: Chen Fan, Age: 24¡¿


    ¡¾Lifespan: 92 years, Cultivation Level: Mortal¡¿


    ¡¾Abilities: Body Refinement Technique (85%), Wind Walk Technique (10%)¡¿


    ¡¾Experience Points: 8500/10000¡¿


    ¡°Huh? Wind Walk Technique?¡±


    ¡¾The Wind Walk Technique enables the host to temporarily achieve superhuman speed.¡¿


    ¡¾Currently at 10% proficiency, the host can sprint for ten seconds.¡¿


    Hmm. Chen Fan understood.


    This meant he could move as fast as a normal person for a short time, compensating for his slow pace.


    For a cripple like him, it was actually quite useful.


    ¡­


    Liuguang City.


    Outside the city gate, Chen Fan held Yao Yao¡¯s small hand and paused to look at the wanted posters pasted at the entrance.


    On them were a few familiar faces.


    Zhang Mazi: Leader of the Qingfeng Bandits, reward for capture: 100 taels of silver alive, 50 taels dead.


    Wang Er: Second-in-command of the Qingfeng Bandits, reward for capture: 50 taels of silver alive, 25 taels dead.


    San Feng: ¡­


    As Chen Fan scanned the posters, he suddenly felt a pang in his chest.


    This was all money¡ªmoney that could buy him a lot of wine.


    And he¡¯d burned it all to ashes!


    Forget it.


    The more one dwells on unpleasant things, the more unpleasant they feel.


    The more one does joyous things, the happier they become.


    Chen Fan withdrew his gaze and was about to enter the city when a sudden gust of wind revealed a crumpled sheet of paper beneath Zhang Mazi¡¯s wanted poster.


    It was a rough sketch of Chen Fan¡¯s face, accompanied by the caption:


    ¡°Cripple, wanted for multiple murders in Fenglai Town. Ruthless and violent. Reward for capture: 300 taels alive, 200 taels dead.¡±


    I¡¯m worth this much?


    Chen Fan¡¯s first reaction was to notice his bounty.


    His second reaction was a fleeting urge to turn himself in.


    For someone as broke as him, it was a great temptation.


    But Chen Fan had at least some sense.


    After a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he picked up Zhang Mazi¡¯s poster from the ground and stuck it back up.


    This action caught the attention of the city gate guards, who approached and sternly questioned him:


    ¡°Hey, cripple, what are you doing? Removing posters without proper procedures incurs a fine of ten taels!¡±


    Ten taels?!


    They might as well take his life. Selling him wouldn¡¯t fetch that much.


    But reporting himself might.


    Calmly, Chen Fan cleared his throat and pointed to Zhang Mazi¡¯s poster.


    ¡°Nothing, just noticed it had fallen, so I picked it up and stuck it back, that¡¯s all.¡±


    The guard frowned, gave Chen Fan a sidelong glance, and said nothing more, returning to his post.


    Chen Fan patted Zhang Mazi¡¯s poster to ensure it was firmly in place.


    Then he took Yao Yao by the hand and limped into the city.


    As soon as they entered Liuguang City, the aroma of wine wafted through the air.


    Chen Fan¡¯s craving was instantly awakened.


    God knows how long it had been since he¡¯d had a drink.


    The last sip he¡¯d had was at Qingfeng Bandits¡¯ stronghold¡ªa cup of murky liquor so stale it hardly qualified as wine.


    Feeling his pocket, Chen Fan remembered he still had his last ten coins left from leaving Fenglai Town.


    Just enough for a bowl of wine.


    As he was about to step into the tavern, he heard a distinct cry:


    ¡°Candied hawthorn~¡±


    The cheerful call contrasted starkly with the tavern¡¯s noisy entrance.


    Chen Fan immediately felt Yao Yao¡¯s small hand tighten in his palm.


    Looking down, he saw Yao Yao quickly avert her gaze from the hawthorn stand, deliberately avoiding it.


    Her understanding and maturity were heartbreaking.


    At her tender age, what harm was there in indulging in a stick of candied hawthorn?


    At that moment, Chen Fan suddenly felt like drinking wasn¡¯t as important as he had thought.


    ¡°Boss, one stick of candied hawthorn.¡±


    ¡°Here you go.¡±


    When the wax paper-wrapped, bright red candied hawthorn was handed to Yao Yao, her eyes lit up with brilliant joy.


    Her sweet smile was like a blooming spring flower.


    ¡°Sir, you eat first¡­¡±

 Half Immortal

    Yao Yao had a house in Liuguang City.


    It was the only property left to her by her father.


    When Chen Fan asked about Yao Yao''s father¡¯s whereabouts, her face was full of stubbornness and indifference.


    "He went up the mountain to cultivate immortality."


    "Immortality?" Chen Fan was puzzled.


    "Yes, Father wanted to live forever. When a group of immortals came to the city recruiting disciples, he left with them.


    He didn¡¯t even say goodbye to me.


    It was only later that Aunt Wang from next door told me about it."


    While saying this, there wasn¡¯t the slightest trace of emotion on Yao Yao¡¯s face, as if she were recounting something that had nothing to do with her.


    Over the years of being abducted, besides learning to be sensible, she had also learned to bury her feelings deep within.


    Chen Fan listened, nodding silently.


    Immortality, immortality¡ªif even worldly ties must be severed,


    Chen Fan thought, then perhaps immortality wasn¡¯t worth pursuing.


    Drinking a little wine every day, living without worries¡ªwasn¡¯t that more enjoyable than seeking immortality?


    And if the finances allowed, perhaps he could enjoy a few performances in a brothel.


    Life wasn¡¯t much more than that.


    ...


    Having been away for a long time, the already dilapidated house was now covered in a thick layer of dust.


    Stepping on it felt like entering a crime scene.


    The two of them worked together for half a day to barely clean it to a livable state.


    When they were nearly done, Yao Yao suddenly remembered.


    She needed to say hello to the auntie next door, whom she hadn¡¯t seen in a long time.


    After informing Chen Fan, her small figure quickly rushed out the door.


    Chen Fan looked around the house and found a small stool.


    He carried it outside, leaned on his crutch, and reached for the suona at his waist.


    Habitually, he pulled out his gourd and tilted it towards his mouth, but it was empty.


    He had nearly forgotten that the gourd had been empty for a long time.


    Back in Fenglai Town, though his gourd was often dry,


    Miss Wen would always fill it with warm wine at critical moments, making it less of a concern.


    But now...


    Chen Fan sniffed the lingering scent of wine, replaced the stopper, and suddenly realized he needed to make money.


    A penny could stump a hero, and Chen Fan had never felt such a strong urge to earn money.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Fortunately, he had a skill to make a living.


    At least with that skill, he wouldn¡¯t starve.


    Thinking of this, Chen Fan placed the suona to his lips and took a deep breath.


    Immediately, a piercing sound of the suona rang out.


    This time, however, Chen Fan didn¡¯t play a majestic and complex tune like "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix."


    Instead, he played a light and cheerful children¡¯s song.


    After a while, Yao Yao returned.


    Her expression was somewhat desolate, her head lowered in silence.


    When Chen Fan asked why, he learned that the auntie next door had passed away more than a year ago.


    When she was alive, she was the kindest person to Yao Yao.


    Leftovers and uneaten food were always sent to Yao Yao.


    To Yao Yao, she was like a mother.


    Chen Fan¡¯s tune shifted to The Great Funeral, melodious yet mournful.


    ...


    The next morning, Chen Fan woke up early.


    To his surprise, Yao Yao was up even earlier.


    On the table were two bowls of porridge.


    Every morning, the government would distribute porridge at the yamen, but the quantity was limited and given on a first-come, first-served basis.


    Yao Yao had squeezed her way through the crowd to get it.


    By the time she returned, the porridge had gone cold. She reheated it before serving it.


    Drinking the watery, warm porridge, Chen Fan felt a twinge in his heart.


    After finishing the porridge, he grabbed his small stool, picked up his suona, and hobbled out with his crutch.


    ...


    Underneath the bridge.


    Chen Fan sat on his stool, taking a deep breath and playing the suona.


    Across from him was a fortune-telling "Half-Immortal."


    As Chen Fan played, a voice asked:


    "How much?"


    "Five coins for joyous occasions, ten for funerals, an extra five if no meal is provided."


    The words were at the tip of his tongue but didn¡¯t come out.


    Chen Fan had misunderstood; the customer was asking about the Half-Immortal¡¯s fortune-telling price.


    Without lifting his eyes, the Half-Immortal lazily replied in a lifeless tone:


    "Five taels for fortune-telling, ten for resolving doubts, twenty for warding off disasters. No bargaining!"


    Amazing! Chen Fan couldn¡¯t help but exclaim inwardly.


    At a conversion rate of ten coins per tael of silver, just warding off disasters would cost 200 coins.


    That was enough for Chen Fan to handle ten funerals or enjoy a good meal at a restaurant.


    Did city folks¡¯ money come this easily?


    To Chen Fan¡¯s surprise, the person across from him hesitated not at all, pulling out twenty taels of silver.


    "Master, please help me avoid harm and dispel calamities."


    The so-called Half-Immortal accepted the silver, pulled out a crumpled charm, and handed it to the customer:


    "Take this home, brew it in water, and all will be cured."


    "Thank you, Master."


    The customer, holding the charm, left joyfully.


    By the end of the day, the Half-Immortal had earned at least a hundred taels of silver.


    Meanwhile, Chen Fan hadn¡¯t earned a single penny.


    Yet the sight of the Half-Immortal raking in money made Chen Fan feel like earning money wasn¡¯t all that difficult.


    Though he made nothing today, tomorrow would surely be better.


    With his skills and talent, how could he possibly starve?


    One day, two days.


    By the third day, Chen Fan had to admit¡ªhe really might starve to death with his craft.


    It was the Half-Immortal who couldn¡¯t hold back first.


    During a lull in business, he approached Chen Fan.


    "Hey, crippled brother, you won¡¯t make any money here. You might even block my fortune. Want me to give you some advice?


    Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s free. I can tell you¡¯re struggling¡ªthree days in, and you¡¯ve already gotten thinner."


    Though Chen Fan was barely holding it together, he nodded and waited for the Half-Immortal¡¯s suggestion.


    The Half-Immortal pinched his fingers together, speaking slowly:


    "If you want to play the suona, go find a theater troupe in the city. There, they take all sorts of gigs¡ªred, white, whatever. They pay decently too. If the price is right, they¡¯ll even sing a funeral into a celebration."


    That was when Chen Fan first learned that Liuguang City had theater troupes.


    After a moment, he finally stood, folding up his stool.


    "Thank you."


    ...


    "Name?"


    An old man with coarse reading glasses and graying hair sat at a table.


    His brows furrowed, and his tone was interrogative.


    This was the backbone of the troupe, the actor who played the lead villain. He had no real name, only a stage name: Hongyun.


    "Chen Fan," Chen Fan answered truthfully.


    "What can you do?"


    "I can play the suona."


    Hah~


    Hongyun sneered at the response.


    "Who can¡¯t play the suona? I could sprinkle some grain on a suona, and even a chicken could play it."


    "Goodbye."


    Chen Fan stood, ready to leave.


    He could tell this troupe was just a troupe¡ªfocused on making money. Whether they performed or played well didn¡¯t matter.


    Before he could take more than a couple of steps, Hongyun called out again:


    "Wait. Coincidentally, there¡¯s a funeral at Fukun Palace tomorrow. It¡¯s a gig for immortals. Play well, and you can stay¡ªfifty coins a month, plus tips."


    Hearing this, Chen Fan picked up on the implication.


    Playing for immortals yet only earning fifty coins a month? What a bargain.


    Clearly, they intended to treat him as a workhorse.


    Without hesitation, Chen Fan agreed.


    Tomorrow, he would show Hongyun exactly what "you get what you pay for" really meant!

 If I don鈥檛 do it, who will?

    The next day, Chen Fan got up early, well before dawn.


    After getting ready, Yao Yao was still asleep.


    Before leaving, Chen Fan thought for a moment, then walked over to the sleeping Yao Yao and gave her a vigorous shake.


    Startled awake, Yao Yao, with a trace of drool at the corner of her mouth, rubbed her sleepy eyes and looked at Chen Fan in confusion.


    "Come with me today. There¡¯s a banquet."


    As he spoke, Chen Fan hung the suona and gourd on his waist.


    The collision of metal and wood produced a dull clinking sound.


    At the mention of a banquet, Yao Yao immediately perked up.


    A banquet¡­ what could that be?


    The best thing Yao Yao had ever eaten in her life was the candied hawthorn Chen Fan bought for her.


    Sweet and sour.


    The second-best thing was half a roasted chicken that Aunt Wang next door gave her one autumn night five years ago.


    It was fragrant, though a bit dry.


    Since then, Yao Yao hadn¡¯t tasted anything like it.


    ...


    Fukun Palace was about fifty li from Liuguang City.


    The troupe had a dedicated carriage for such trips, so the distance wasn¡¯t an issue.


    However, when the others noticed that Chen Fan had brought along a little girl, they gave him puzzled looks.


    Chen Fan, unconcerned, casually took the suona from his waist and hung it around Yao Yao¡¯s slender, pale neck, explaining:


    "My legs are bad, so I brought someone to help. Hope you don¡¯t mind."


    The large brass suona hung heavily around Yao Yao¡¯s neck, and it was impossible for her not to feel its weight.


    But Yao Yao bit her lip and persevered.


    It wasn¡¯t until they got on the carriage that Chen Fan planned to take back the suona.


    However, Yao Yao shook her head and held onto it without saying a word.


    Seeing this, Chen Fan gave up but couldn¡¯t help the subtle smile that curved his lips.


    Hearing they were going to play music for immortals, the troupe members chattered animatedly among themselves.


    Chen Fan sat quietly in the carriage, listening to their conversation without a word.


    The most talked-about topic was:


    If they¡¯ve become immortals, why do they still die and need a troupe to perform funerals like ordinary people?


    Chen Fan was curious too and listened intently, but he didn¡¯t catch any useful gossip after a long time.


    Feeling bored, he tilted his head and was about to doze off when Hongyun, sitting at the front, sneered.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "These so-called immortals are just loafers who¡¯ve had their fill and dream of immortality every day."


    Hongyun had lived for decades and worked in the troupe for just as long.


    He had seen it all.


    True immortals lived in ethereal paradises, abstaining from grains, cultivating the Three Purities, drinking nectar, and listening to divine music.


    How could mere mortals like them ever encounter such beings?


    As for Fukun Palace, it was said that years ago, its leader had stumbled upon a fragment of an immortal text.


    Through slow experimentation, he managed to grasp a bit of its teachings.


    They weren¡¯t true immortals, just slightly superior to ordinary people.


    Listening to this, Chen Fan nodded quietly, finally understanding.


    This must have been the case with the Liuyun Immortal Sect before.


    No wonder those people like Er Biao were so weak.


    They were just mortals holding swords, emboldened by misplaced arrogance, thinking they ruled the world.


    In reality, they were nothing more than a group of pretentious mortals clinging to delusions before death.


    With this realization, Chen Fan felt reassured and no longer regarded Fukun Palace as anything grand.


    ...


    Fukun Palace.


    Today, Fukun Palace was draped in white banners.


    Everyone wore an expression of sorrow.


    In the mourning hall stood an ancient bronze coffin, with a memorial tablet inscribed:


    In memory of Fuyunzi, the first leader of Fukun Palace.


    It was said that the leader of Fukun Palace had arranged a duel with the sect master of the neighboring Liuyun Immortal Sect.


    However, as soon as they met, before the fight could even begin,


    The Liuyun Immortal Sect launched a sneak attack, having secretly set traps at the battleground in advance.


    The leader of Fukun Palace stepped on one, collapsed, and died on the spot.


    As the saying goes, high-level combat often relies on the simplest methods.


    Setting traps was efficient, convenient, and highly effective¡ªtruly a commendable strategy.


    When Chen Fan heard about this cause of death, he was speechless.


    To think that a dignified palace leader would die in such a pathetic manner.


    But it wasn¡¯t something that concerned him.


    The troupe took their places, and the performance began.


    As the music started and the curtain was drawn, everyone awaited the banquet.


    Today, however, Chen Fan¡¯s suona sounded exceptionally grating, his gaze repeatedly wandering toward the banquet tables in the distance.


    Roast duck, roast chicken, steamed lamb, steamed carp...


    At this moment, all he wanted was to finish the job quickly and eat.


    He had come here for the banquet, after all.


    Many guests weren¡¯t interested in the performance anyway. As long as the atmosphere felt right, that was enough.


    Coupled with Chen Fan¡¯s overly loud and unpleasant suona,


    The experience was not just physically uncomfortable but spiritually jarring.


    It felt as though, instead of sending off the late palace leader, Chen Fan was trying to send everyone present to the afterlife as well.


    Some guests had already covered their ears and fled.


    On the temporary stage, Hongyun, who was singing, was visibly displeased.


    He knew Chen Fan could play the suona, but he hadn¡¯t expected it to sound this awful.


    He was right yesterday¡ªscatter some grain on a suona, and even a chicken could play better than Chen Fan.


    In truth, Chen Fan didn¡¯t normally play like this. It was simply that the pay was too low.


    As a result, the mournful tune quickly overshadowed the sorrow in everyone¡¯s hearts.


    The only thought remaining was... when would the banquet start?


    Fortunately, the performance didn¡¯t take long. After the song ended, the music faded away.


    A slightly older man, who had temporarily taken over as the leader of Fukun Palace, stepped onto a high platform and waved his hand.


    The entire Fukun Palace erupted into cheers¡ªthe banquet had begun.


    The troupe had a reserved table of food and drinks. After all, they were there to work and couldn¡¯t be treated poorly.


    Chen Fan put down his suona, stumbling as he led Yao Yao toward the table.


    But before they could reach it, Hongyun blocked their path.


    "According to the rules, you must stay by the coffin and continue playing the suona."


    What kind of ridiculous rule was this?


    Chen Fan frowned.


    They paid for one job but expected him to do two?


    Frustrated, he turned his head and snapped:


    "I¡¯m not doing it..."


    "I¡¯ll give you ten more coins," Hongyun interrupted, raising his hand with a gesture of ten.


    "If I don¡¯t do it, who will?"


    Chen Fan¡¯s tone shifted immediately, a sly smile on his face.


    Why couldn¡¯t he just finish speaking in one go? Changing his attitude was exhausting.


    Chen Fan picked up the suona again and nudged Yao Yao, signaling her to go eat.


    Then, he hobbled over to the coffin alone, taking a deep breath.


    As the suona began to wail, the attendees dined amid the cacophony.


    The Chen Fan of the past would never have agreed to such a demand.


    But now... he was broke.


    Money was hard to earn, and so was food.


    For the sake of a drink, and because there was now another mouth to feed.


    Fortunately, today¡¯s performance was just a formality. All Chen Fan needed to do was blow randomly.


    But as for that table of food, it had little to do with Chen Fan anymore.

 Give me a chance to explain!

    Today''s funeral took a strange turn.


    Perhaps it was because Chen Fan deliberately played the suona so horribly, but there was a palpable sense of disdain from the guests around him.


    Even the coffin next to him seemed off.


    There were faint, subtle sounds emanating from it, yet it remained still.


    Chen Fan thought he was hearing things.


    So he played harder, trying to distract himself.


    The suona blared even louder.


    Suddenly, the coffin lid seemed to shift.


    Chen Fan abruptly stopped playing and turned to look.


    The lid immediately stilled again.


    The guests, noticing Chen Fan''s sudden stop, turned to look as well.


    Everything appeared normal.


    Hongyun, who was eating nearby, was displeased.


    Was this cripple how he did his job? Was he here to cause trouble?


    Deciding on the spot, Hongyun resolved to give Chen Fan a few copper coins after this and send him on his way.


    His troupe didn''t need this kind of loafer.


    Chen Fan hesitated, unsure whether to mention the coffin lid moving.


    But after a moment''s thought, he decided against it. No one would believe him anyway.


    He picked up the suona again and resumed playing.


    The mournful and jarring sound of the suona returned, as if trying to rip souls out of their bodies.


    With a loud boom, Chen Fan assumed someone had thrown a plate of food at him in protest.


    Turning his head, he realized it wasn''t food¡ªbut the coffin lid had exploded open.


    ???


    The coffin lid exploded!!!


    The commotion quickly drew everyone''s attention.


    Chen Fan stood by the coffin, bits of wood debris still clinging to his hair, looking completely bewildered.


    From the coffin rose an old man with a head full of white hair, a pale complexion, and an air that was faintly immortal-like. He sat up straight, looking equally confused.


    Was this¡­ corpse reanimation?!


    Those who had seen their fair share of strange things began to run.


    Those who hadn''t stood dumbfounded.


    It was said that some people, driven by deep resentment after death, could transform into a creature known as a Corpse King under the right conditions.


    A Corpse King had strength comparable to an ox. A dozen adults would be no match, reduced to mere snacks in its presence.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    In a matter of moments, the banquet attendees were in total chaos, including the disciples of Fukun Palace.


    Despite their years of cultivation, they had never encountered something like this.


    They trained for immortality but were now risking their lives.


    Why stick around?


    Only Chen Fan knew that running wouldn''t help.


    Even if he tried, he couldn''t get far. His Wind Walk Technique had too short a duration to carry him and Yao Yao to safety.


    After a brief moment of thought, Chen Fan raised his crutch.


    Thud!


    The crutch struck Fuyunzi''s head with a dull thud, like hitting a watermelon.


    The recently revived Fuyunzi fell back down without even a scream.


    The fluidity of Chen Fan''s actions left the panicked crowd stunned.


    A cripple, this formidable?


    Even a Corpse King couldn''t withstand his crutch?


    As the scene settled, some brave souls cautiously approached the coffin to investigate.


    One curious individual leaned over the coffin to take a closer look.


    Just as he peered inside, Fuyunzi''s pale face and tightly shut eyes suddenly snapped open, staring directly at him.


    The man screamed, collapsing to the floor as his pants grew visibly damp.


    Chen Fan, unperturbed, raised his crutch again, preparing to stab it into the coffin.


    Before he could, Fuyunzi quickly raised a hand, sat up, and spoke in a raspy voice:


    "Wait, give this old man a chance to explain."


    Hearing Fuyunzi speak, the crowd visibly relaxed.


    After all, legends said Corpse Kings couldn''t talk.


    This confirmed he was still alive.


    Immediately, a group of Fukun Palace disciples rushed forward, crying as they surrounded him.


    Halfway through the banquet, the funeral had turned into a celebration.


    Later, Fuyunzi explained what had happened.


    Before the duel with the Liuyun Immortal Sect, he had prepared in advance, taking a medicine called Vitality Elixir from a so-called Half-Immortal in the city.


    However, the medicine seemed to be a fake. Instead of helping, it exacerbated the pain after he stepped on the sect''s hidden traps.


    It felt like thousands of needles piercing his bones.


    Fuyunzi fainted on the spot.


    In his semi-conscious state, he found himself at the gates of the underworld, where the ox-headed and horse-faced guardians readied their hooks to drag him in.


    At the critical moment, the grating and jarring sound of a suona pulled him back.


    Fuyunzi swore he had never heard anything so awful in his life.


    His only thought at the time was to come back to life and teach the suona player a lesson.


    Now that he had returned, however, his anger had dissipated.


    Instead, he found Chen Fan increasingly pleasing to the eye, as the man had effectively saved his life.


    Regardless, surviving was a blessing in itself.


    Fuyunzi even felt physically stronger, with a new sense of energy coursing through his body.


    Previously, with his limited immortal strength, he could shatter a large boulder with one punch.


    Now, he felt like he could break two.


    Perhaps this was what the immortal texts meant by "rebirth through near-death."


    Not thinking too deeply, Fuyunzi ordered the white mourning banners to be taken down and the hall redecorated.


    The banquet resumed as usual, but the somber tunes were replaced with lively ones.


    Fukun Palace was filled with joy and celebration.


    By evening, it was time for the troupe to leave.


    Fuyunzi insisted on giving Chen Fan a hundred taels of silver as a token of gratitude, saying that a life-saving favor could never be forgotten.


    Fukun Palace, though not a renowned sect, was never short on money.


    Chen Fan politely declined at first, but his hands readily opened his pocket to receive the silver.


    Fuyunzi, still warm and welcoming, even commented that Chen Fan had the potential to become an immortal.


    As Chen Fan left, Fuyunzi could still feel the throbbing pain of the lump on his head.


    ...


    On the return carriage.


    Chen Fan sat silently in the corner, holding Yao Yao''s hand.


    Today''s earnings were substantial, enough to support them for some time.


    Yao Yao seemed delighted, her lips greasy as she smiled with her small tiger teeth exposed.


    "Sir, today''s banquet was so delicious. Yao Yao loved it."


    Chen Fan smiled, gently wiping the grease from her lips.


    "Is that so? Then we''ll attend more banquets next time."


    "Mm-hmm." Yao Yao nodded enthusiastically, her big eyes brimming with happiness.


    "Oh, and Sir, I have a surprise for you," Yao Yao said with a grin, reaching into her pocket.


    But before she could reveal it, the carriage suddenly stopped, interrupting her.


    Hongyun stood up, slowly walked over to Chen Fan, and handed him twenty copper coins.


    "This is your pay for today."


    "Thank you."


    Chen Fan''s smile faded into an expressionless calm as he accepted the payment.


    However, after paying him, Hongyun''s hand remained extended, as if waiting for something.


    "Is there something else?"


    Chen Fan asked, sensing the strange atmosphere in the carriage.


    At that moment, an eerie silence fell over the group.


    Outside, the twilight sky darkened further as black clouds rolled in, deepening the gloom.

 Have you ever heard the wind?

    ¡°According to the rules, those twenty coins earlier were all that you were supposed to get.¡±


    Hong Yun said softly, raising his hand slightly toward Chen Fan.


    The meaning was clear.


    Chen Fan raised his eyebrow slightly:


    ¡°Are you saying that the one hundred taels aren¡¯t mine to take?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. This is the rule of the troupe. You take commissions to eat, the rest must be handed over. Since you¡¯ve joined my troupe, you must follow my rules.¡±


    Chen Fan couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    When exactly had he joined the troupe?


    He still remembered that just yesterday, Hong Yun had looked down on him greatly.


    Anyway, since the one hundred taels had already entered Chen Fan¡¯s pocket, there was no way they would leave.


    Chen Fan put away his smile, focusing, and said:


    ¡°If it¡¯s not mine, I won¡¯t take a single coin. But if it¡¯s mine, you won¡¯t take it.¡±


    These words caused everyone to burst into laughter.


    If any able-bodied person had said this, Hong Yun and the others would have thought twice.


    But now, the one who said this was a cripple.


    Hong Yun patted Chen Fan¡¯s shoulder:


    ¡°Cripple, I¡¯ve spent half my life in the opera troupe, and no one has ever dared to break my rules.¡±


    As he spoke, the surrounding actors slowly stood up, and there was an implicit intention to encircle Chen Fan.


    Among them were several martial artists who acted as the troupe¡¯s warriors. They were all tall, strong, and looked extremely fierce.


    Holding red-tassel spears, the tips gleamed with cold light.


    Though these spears were props for the play, they could certainly kill without hesitation.


    The red tassels were striking, and Chen Fan couldn¡¯t tell if they were stained with paint or fresh blood.


    Looking at the surrounding situation, Chen Fan also remembered that there was a child by his side.


    So, he reluctantly said:


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk things through, whatever it is, we can go outside.¡±


    Hong Yun had been operating in Liuguang City for nearly forty to fifty years, relying on this troupe and a group of thugs he had cultivated.


    They were not just actors, but also thugs.


    In Liuguang City, no one would dare to ignore Hong Yun¡¯s influence.


    He wasn¡¯t afraid of Chen Fan causing any trouble. A cripple couldn¡¯t stir up too much of a storm.


    Thinking of how Chen Fan had knocked out the elder of the Floating Kun Palace with a single hit using his crutch, Hong Yun thought it was just a coincidence.


    Outside the carriage, Chen Fan supported himself with his crutches, his hands placed firmly on the mud as his expression remained calm.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The people around him, including Hong Yun, had completely surrounded him.


    Sigh...


    Chen Fan sighed:


    ¡°Is there really no room for negotiation?¡±


    Hong Yun¡¯s expression grew stern, and he immediately lost patience.


    He waved his hand, and several martial artists with spears began to close in on Chen Fan.


    Chen Fan stood still, unmovable, but his right hand lightly gripped his crutch, and he softly said:


    ¡°Have you ever heard the sound of the wind?¡±


    In the next instant, Hong Yun saw Chen Fan vanish from his original position in an incredibly strange manner.


    Only then did he hear Chen Fan¡¯s voice.


    Before the sound reached him, Chen Fan had already appeared in front of him.


    What kind of speed was this?


    Breaking the wind!


    By the time Chen Fan reappeared, his crutch was still planted firmly on the ground.


    It was as if he hadn¡¯t moved at all.


    But there were now several corpses, all oozing blood.


    Hong Yun broke into a cold sweat.


    Only a few breaths had passed, but it felt as if a hundred years had gone by.


    He felt as if he had narrowly escaped death.


    This was a method he had never seen before. It was a hundred times stronger than the techniques of the Floating Kun Palace or the low-tier sects like the Flowing Cloud Immortal Sect.


    This unassuming blind man was actually a hidden expert.


    Realizing he had provoked someone terrifying, Hong Yun immediately dropped to his knees.


    However, his knees were lightly propped up by a crutch.


    Chen Fan didn¡¯t look at Hong Yun. He simply withdrew his crutch, turned around, and said:


    ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, let¡¯s return to the city.¡±


    Eliminating all roots wasn¡¯t Chen Fan¡¯s style.


    Unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn¡¯t kill.


    But some people just had to rush to queue up for the gates of hell, and he couldn¡¯t help it.


    After all, what he did, if said aloud, made sense anywhere.


    It¡¯s just a pity that this world has never been a place where logic prevails.


    The carriage resumed its journey.


    This time, Chen Fan found a quiet corner.


    Hong Yun and the others kept a considerable distance from him, and their eyes were filled with timidity and fear.


    Chen Fan didn¡¯t care.


    Beside him, Yao Yao, who had been sleeping lightly, struggled to keep her eyes open.


    When she saw Chen Fan return, she excitedly pulled out a large chicken drumstick from her bosom.


    She had secretly taken it during the feast earlier.


    Since Chen Fan had played the suona all day without eating or drinking, she figured he must be hungry.


    This was her little surprise for him.


    The drumstick had been crumpled in her pocket for a long time, the skin was wrinkled, and the meat was separating. Its appearance had somewhat deteriorated.


    But when Chen Fan paused for a moment and saw it, he still smiled and took it.


    He put it in his mouth, and with a gentle bite, the chicken meat melted like silk in his mouth, every fiber clear.


    It slid down smoothly, leaving a lingering fragrance on his lips and teeth.


    For a long time after that, Chen Fan ate many chicken drumsticks.


    But none of them tasted quite like the one he had today.


    Flowers may bloom again, but youth never returns.


    At that moment, the atmosphere inside the carriage seemed to set the stage for some future afternoon, when, during a tea break, one might suddenly remember this moment.


    <hr>


    Liuguang City.


    When the carriage reached the city gates, Chen Fan parted ways with the troupe.


    The moment Chen Fan got off the carriage, Hong Yun personally took the reins, cracking the whip to make the strong horse cry out in pain. In a moment, the horse galloped away, disappearing into the distance.


    Perhaps Hong Yun would never want to deal with Chen Fan again.


    Chen Fan, with Yao Yao sleeping on his back, limped into the city.


    He hadn¡¯t walked far when he suddenly felt his shoulder become damp.


    It was the dream drool from Yao Yao, soaking his already thin clothes.


    Yao Yao sniffed, her nose twitching. She smelled the chicken¡¯s fragrance and laughed softly.


    ¡°Feasting is so nice!¡±


    Chen Fan: ...


    Suddenly, he remembered that he should buy a few new sets of clothes for Yao Yao.


    Her clothes were stained with grease and there were no clean clothes for her, which was quite troublesome.


    Chen Fan thought to himself, and as his body turned, he wobbled toward the tailor shop in the city.


    As he passed the bridge, for some reason, he suddenly thought of the half-immortal.


    If it weren¡¯t for the half-immortal¡¯s advice, Chen Fan wouldn¡¯t have made his first bucket of gold so quickly.


    He should give the half-immortal a commission.


    Thus, he turned his steps and walked toward the bottom of the bridge.


    Before he even got close, he heard a commotion.


    ¡°You fraud, damn your mother, give me my money back!¡±


    The half-immortal: ¡°My mother is at the West Mountain graveyard. Second tomb on the left as you enter, go ahead.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll damn your immortal board!¡±


    Half-immortal: ...


    Seeing Chen Fan coming down from the bridge, the half-immortal looked as if he had seen his savior and immediately pulled him over:


    ¡°Cripple brother, you¡¯ve come at the right time, please help me settle this.¡±


    Chen Fan was confused, signaling that he still had a sleeping child on his back.


    Then, he slowly moved toward the two of them.


    The half-immortal looked at Yao Yao, who was asleep, then leaned toward Chen Fan¡¯s ear and whispered:


    ¡°...&&%%£¤£¤¡­%£¤¡±

 Ask Heaven for Another Five Hundred Years

    After hearing this, Chen Fan¡¯s body shook slightly, and his eyes revealed a look of astonishment.


    After a long pause, he gave a thumbs up.


    He honestly didn¡¯t know how to describe the situation with words.


    He then raised his head and looked at the troublemaker. He didn¡¯t find this person annoying; in fact, he even felt a little sympathy.


    ¡°Brother, it¡¯s not your fault that your wife strayed, but don¡¯t let it get to you.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± The troublemaker pointed at the fortune teller, very displeased.


    ¡°How would I not know if my wife had an affair? This bastard randomly slanders my wife, claiming she¡¯s been sneaking around behind my back, doing disgraceful things, and not just once!


    ¡°My wife is a proper woman; she can entertain guests in the parlor, cook in the kitchen, and even the kids look just like me...¡±


    Chen Fan raised his hand to interrupt the troublemaker.


    ¡°If you believe so strongly in your wife, why come seeking this nonsense fortune-telling?¡±


    His words left the troublemaker speechless.


    Chen Fan seized the opportunity and continued, ¡°By the way, do you have any brothers, or even cousins? Don¡¯t misunderstand me, I¡¯m just asking, definitely not implying that your child is...¡±


    Before he could finish, the troublemaker froze.


    His expression slowly grew serious, and it seemed as though he was suddenly thinking of something. He suddenly said, ¡°I¡¯ve got urgent business at home, we¡¯ll talk later.¡±


    With that, he turned and ran away without a trace.


    Later, Chen Fan heard that the man divorced his wife.


    No one knew the exact reason, but the one thing they knew was that after his wife was divorced, she immediately ran off with his brother.


    But that was a story for another time.


    Chen Fan stood before the fortune teller, lightly tapping his cane on the ground, and praised him, ¡°As expected of a fortune teller, you could even deduce that his wife had strayed and what kind of shady activities she had been up to.¡±


    The fortune teller humbly waved his hand.


    ¡°Actually, it wasn¡¯t like that. I just happened to cross paths with his wife one night while walking home, and she was standing on the street corner trying to attract customers.¡±


    Chen Fan: ...


    This guy really was like an old sow wearing a bra¡ªalways full of tricks.


    It¡¯s hard to tell if his fortune-telling skills are real or not.


    ¡°By the way, here, take this.¡±


    While speaking, Chen Fan took out twenty taels of silver and handed them to the fortune teller.


    The fortune teller was confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡±


    ¡°You recommended I join the troupe. This is what I earned today, a token of my appreciation.¡±


    Hearing this, the fortune teller laughed heartily, shaking his head in refusal.


    ¡°Forget it. Honestly, I only recommended you to the troupe because I found you annoying. Who would¡¯ve thought you¡¯d actually make some money?¡±


    ¡°Anyway, you don¡¯t need to pay me for this. I never intended to take your money. If you really want to thank me, why not sit down for a drink in a tavern?¡±


    Chen Fan smiled, putting the silver away.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I had in mind.¡±


    Taverns in Liu Guang City were different from those in Feng Lai Town.


    Here, no one mocked Chen Fan for being a cripple, nor did anyone call out for him to play a tune.


    At a small square table, the two figures sat.


    Soon, food and drinks were brought to the table.


    A large roast chicken, a plate of fennel beans, and a jar of fine wine.


    Chen Fan immediately tore off one of the roast chicken¡¯s hind legs and carefully wrapped it in oil paper, setting it aside.


    The fortune teller saw this and, glancing at the sleeping Yao Yao beside him, understood. He then opened his mouth to speak.


    ¡°Your daughter?¡±


    Chen Fan shook his head.


    ¡°No, I found her on the road. Can¡¯t you tell that?¡±


    The fortune teller chuckled, genuinely amused.


    ¡°You really think I¡¯m a fortune teller? I can¡¯t predict everything, just some tricks to fool people in the Jianghu.¡±


    As he spoke, he lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention before relaxing a little.


    Chen Fan knew this was the case and didn¡¯t mind.


    After a few rounds of drinks, his complexion grew a little more flushed.


    The fortune teller began chattering away like a magpie, speaking incessantly in Chen Fan¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Brother Cripple, listen to me. This little girl has a fortune-bringing aura. Keeping her by your side will bring you wealth. You¡¯ve found a little treasure.¡±


    ¡°Brother Cripple, to be honest, I¡¯ve been in the Jianghu for many years. I don¡¯t just rely on my mouth. I do have some basic fortune-telling skills.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t predict the heavens, but when it comes to people, I¡¯m always spot on.¡±


    ¡°I calculated just now, and in ten years, you¡¯ll face a disaster! If you can avoid it, you¡¯ll have a life of peace and safety. If you can¡¯t avoid it, you¡¯ll spend the rest of your life...¡±


    ¡°Brother Cripple...¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Chen Fan could tell the fortune teller was getting drunk by now and decided not to take his words seriously.


    However, he still absorbed a little of it.


    After finishing the wine in his cup, Chen Fan poured the remaining wine into his gourd.


    He sighed deeply and said slowly, ¡°Whether it brings wealth or not doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s just that I¡¯ve suffered the same hardships and can¡¯t bear to see others go through the same.¡±


    At that moment, images from his past flashed before his eyes.


    In his previous life, Chen Fan, born with a crippled leg, was abandoned by his family and lived in misery.


    If it hadn¡¯t been for an old crippled man who kindly took him in and taught him how to play the suona,


    Chen Fan would have wandered the streets, a man with no skills, forgotten by the world.


    He saw those memories clearly as the noise around him faded. He lifted Yao Yao onto his back and staggered out of the tavern.


    The moon hung high, and tomorrow promised to be a good day.


    Not long after Chen Fan left, the fortune teller also walked out of the tavern.


    His eyes were clear, his steps light, and there wasn¡¯t a trace of drunkenness in him.


    He looked up at the night sky and immediately spotted the brightest star¡ªThe North Star.


    He then pinched his fingers and smiled mysteriously.


    The fortune teller slung his box over his shoulder and slowly walked toward the city, carrying a flag that had the character ¡°ÏÉ¡± (immortal) on it.


    For some reason, the character ¡°ÏÉ¡± had been worn down with time, and only half of it remained, faintly visible.


    ...


    When Chen Fan returned home, he couldn¡¯t help but smack his forehead.


    Damn it.


    He had meant to buy new clothes for Yao Yao, but he had gotten carried away with drinking.


    Drinking really causes trouble.


    He made a mental note to remember this next time.


    ...


    The next morning.


    The sun was gentle, and the breeze was just right.


    Time for a drink!


    As soon as Chen Fan stepped out of his door, business came knocking.


    A plump man arrived, impeccably dressed, sporting a neat mustache¡ªclearly a servant from a wealthy household.


    The little Yao Yao, seeing the man, seemed a little scared.


    She obediently hid behind Chen Fan, peeking out with just her little head.


    The servant explained his purpose, and Chen Fan immediately understood.


    Apparently, word had gotten out about Chen Fan¡¯s feat with the Floating Cloud Master yesterday.


    Since Chen Fan¡¯s suona could bring the so-called immortal back to life, surely the effects on mere mortals would be even more miraculous?


    After all, if he could bring the immortal back, he should be able to ask the heavens for another 500 years!


    After hearing this, Chen Fan¡¯s body shook slightly, and his eyes revealed a look of astonishment.


    After a long pause, he gave a thumbs up.


    He honestly didn¡¯t know how to describe the situation with words.


    He then raised his head and looked at the troublemaker. He didn¡¯t find this person annoying; in fact, he even felt a little sympathy.


    ¡°Brother, it¡¯s not your fault that your wife strayed, but don¡¯t let it get to you.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± The troublemaker pointed at the fortune teller, very displeased.


    ¡°How would I not know if my wife had an affair? This bastard randomly slanders my wife, claiming she¡¯s been sneaking around behind my back, doing disgraceful things, and not just once!


    ¡°My wife is a proper woman; she can entertain guests in the parlor, cook in the kitchen, and even the kids look just like me...¡±


    Chen Fan raised his hand to interrupt the troublemaker.


    ¡°If you believe so strongly in your wife, why come seeking this nonsense fortune-telling?¡±


    His words left the troublemaker speechless.


    Chen Fan seized the opportunity and continued, ¡°By the way, do you have any brothers, or even cousins? Don¡¯t misunderstand me, I¡¯m just asking, definitely not implying that your child is...¡±


    Before he could finish, the troublemaker froze.


    His expression slowly grew serious, and it seemed as though he was suddenly thinking of something. He suddenly said, ¡°I¡¯ve got urgent business at home, we¡¯ll talk later.¡±


    With that, he turned and ran away without a trace.


    Later, Chen Fan heard that the man divorced his wife.


    No one knew the exact reason, but the one thing they knew was that after his wife was divorced, she immediately ran off with his brother.


    But that was a story for another time.


    Chen Fan stood before the fortune teller, lightly tapping his cane on the ground, and praised him, ¡°As expected of a fortune teller, you could even deduce that his wife had strayed and what kind of shady activities she had been up to.¡±


    The fortune teller humbly waved his hand.


    ¡°Actually, it wasn¡¯t like that. I just happened to cross paths with his wife one night while walking home, and she was standing on the street corner trying to attract customers.¡±


    Chen Fan: ...


    This guy really was like an old sow wearing a bra¡ªalways full of tricks.


    It¡¯s hard to tell if his fortune-telling skills are real or not.


    ¡°By the way, here, take this.¡±


    While speaking, Chen Fan took out twenty taels of silver and handed them to the fortune teller.


    The fortune teller was confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡±


    ¡°You recommended I join the troupe. This is what I earned today, a token of my appreciation.¡±


    Hearing this, the fortune teller laughed heartily, shaking his head in refusal.


    ¡°Forget it. Honestly, I only recommended you to the troupe because I found you annoying. Who would¡¯ve thought you¡¯d actually make some money?¡±


    ¡°Anyway, you don¡¯t need to pay me for this. I never intended to take your money. If you really want to thank me, why not sit down for a drink in a tavern?¡±


    Chen Fan smiled, putting the silver away.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I had in mind.¡±


    Taverns in Liu Guang City were different from those in Feng Lai Town.


    Here, no one mocked Chen Fan for being a cripple, nor did anyone call out for him to play a tune.


    At a small square table, the two figures sat.


    Soon, food and drinks were brought to the table.


    A large roast chicken, a plate of fennel beans, and a jar of fine wine.


    Chen Fan immediately tore off one of the roast chicken¡¯s hind legs and carefully wrapped it in oil paper, setting it aside.


    The fortune teller saw this and, glancing at the sleeping Yao Yao beside him, understood. He then opened his mouth to speak.


    ¡°Your daughter?¡±


    Chen Fan shook his head.


    ¡°No, I found her on the road. Can¡¯t you tell that?¡±


    The fortune teller chuckled, genuinely amused.


    ¡°You really think I¡¯m a fortune teller? I can¡¯t predict everything, just some tricks to fool people in the Jianghu.¡±


    As he spoke, he lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention before relaxing a little.


    Chen Fan knew this was the case and didn¡¯t mind.


    After a few rounds of drinks, his complexion grew a little more flushed.


    The fortune teller began chattering away like a magpie, speaking incessantly in Chen Fan¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Brother Cripple, listen to me. This little girl has a fortune-bringing aura. Keeping her by your side will bring you wealth. You¡¯ve found a little treasure.¡±


    ¡°Brother Cripple, to be honest, I¡¯ve been in the Jianghu for many years. I don¡¯t just rely on my mouth. I do have some basic fortune-telling skills.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t predict the heavens, but when it comes to people, I¡¯m always spot on.¡±


    ¡°I calculated just now, and in ten years, you¡¯ll face a disaster! If you can avoid it, you¡¯ll have a life of peace and safety. If you can¡¯t avoid it, you¡¯ll spend the rest of your life...¡±


    ¡°Brother Cripple...¡±


    Chen Fan could tell the fortune teller was getting drunk by now and decided not to take his words seriously.


    However, he still absorbed a little of it.


    After finishing the wine in his cup, Chen Fan poured the remaining wine into his gourd.


    He sighed deeply and said slowly, ¡°Whether it brings wealth or not doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s just that I¡¯ve suffered the same hardships and can¡¯t bear to see others go through the same.¡±


    At that moment, images from his past flashed before his eyes.


    In his previous life, Chen Fan, born with a crippled leg, was abandoned by his family and lived in misery.


    If it hadn¡¯t been for an old crippled man who kindly took him in and taught him how to play the suona,


    Chen Fan would have wandered the streets, a man with no skills, forgotten by the world.


    He saw those memories clearly as the noise around him faded. He lifted Yao Yao onto his back and staggered out of the tavern.


    The moon hung high, and tomorrow promised to be a good day.


    Not long after Chen Fan left, the fortune teller also walked out of the tavern.


    His eyes were clear, his steps light, and there wasn¡¯t a trace of drunkenness in him.


    He looked up at the night sky and immediately spotted the brightest star¡ªThe North Star.


    He then pinched his fingers and smiled mysteriously.


    The fortune teller slung his box over his shoulder and slowly walked toward the city, carrying a flag that had the character ¡°ÏÉ¡± (immortal) on it.


    For some reason, the character ¡°ÏÉ¡± had been worn down with time, and only half of it remained, faintly visible.


    ...


    When Chen Fan returned home, he couldn¡¯t help but smack his forehead.


    Damn it.


    He had meant to buy new clothes for Yao Yao, but he had gotten carried away with drinking.


    Drinking really causes trouble.


    He made a mental note to remember this next time.


    ...


    The next morning.


    The sun was gentle, and the breeze was just right.


    Time for a drink!


    As soon as Chen Fan stepped out of his door, business came knocking.


    A plump man arrived, impeccably dressed, sporting a neat mustache¡ªclearly a servant from a wealthy household.


    The little Yao Yao, seeing the man, seemed a little scared.


    She obediently hid behind Chen Fan, peeking out with just her little head.


    The servant explained his purpose, and Chen Fan immediately understood.


    Apparently, word had gotten out about Chen Fan¡¯s feat with the Floating Cloud Master yesterday.


    Since Chen Fan¡¯s suona could bring the so-called immortal back to life, surely the effects on mere mortals would be even more miraculous?


    After all, if he could bring the immortal back, he should be able to ask the heavens for another 500 years!

 Someone asked me to bring you a message.

    The steward stated that as long as Chen Fan took the job, regardless of the outcome, there would be a substantial reward.


    He was from the Mo family in Liuguang City, and his family was in the cloth business.


    The business was focused on wealth.


    However, Chen Fan declined.


    Chen Fan clearly stated that he only took on funerals and weddings, not any religious ceremonies.


    His suona was good for creating a sound, but it couldn¡¯t perform miracles.


    To put it bluntly, he wasn¡¯t a magic well, and this job wasn¡¯t for him.


    Sticking to his principle of not believing in rumors or spreading them, Chen Fan stated his price:


    ¡°Five wen for weddings, ten wen for funerals, and an additional five wen if no food is provided.¡±


    Upon hearing this, the steward¡¯s face showed disappointment, and he left with a huff.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to find someone who could play the suona.


    What they were really looking for wasn¡¯t the suona, but rather hope.


    The old master of the family only had a breath left, and now that their last hope had been extinguished, they could only go back and prepare for the inevitable.


    But once one steward left, another would come.


    Chen Fan¡¯s reputation was spreading.


    After the theater troupe in town suffered a loss from him, they started avoiding him at all costs.


    Soon, people began to flock to Chen Fan, hoping for him to play the suona.


    Chen Fan shut his door, letting out a sigh of relief.


    It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want the money; it was just that his suona wasn¡¯t as miraculous as people thought.


    He¡¯d heard rumors that in the city, it was said that a single song played on his suona could turn a ninety-year-old into a three-year-old child.


    Rumors stopped with wise people, but clearly, there were more fools than wise people.


    He decided to stay inside and wait for the storm to pass.


    Chen Fan sat on the bed, wrapping his legs around himself.


    With a thought, he felt a wave of invisible energy moving within him.


    Over time, with the increase in the proficiency of his Body Refinement Technique, he was now able to control the energy inside him with ease.


    Previously, the energy had been wild and reckless, only possessing brute force, but now it was much more docile.


    He circulated the energy, and his body felt at ease.


    ¡¾Host: Chen Fan, Age: 24¡¿


    ¡¾Lifespan: 93 years, Cultivation: Mortal¡¿


    ¡¾Skills: Body Refinement Technique (90%), Wind Walking Technique (20%)¡¿


    ¡¾Experience: 9900/10000¡¿


    Only a little more until he reached 10,000. What would happen then?Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Chen Fan suddenly opened his eyes, curious about what would occur.


    The nearly 10,000 experience points had been accumulated over several years of hard work.


    If it weren¡¯t for his love of drinking and occasional laziness, he might have already broken the 10,000 threshold.


    Chen Fan didn¡¯t have much hope for this system.


    But it was better to have something than nothing.


    Lost in his thoughts, his gaze met that of Yaoyao, who was watching him with curiosity.


    Her big, watery eyes seemed to speak.


    The first time they locked eyes, a look of grievance appeared:


    ¡°Master, Yaoyao is hungry...¡±


    Chen Fan stood up from the bed:


    ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°Yaoyao doesn¡¯t know...¡±


    There had been so many visitors today, and as soon as he had shut the door, he started cultivating.


    Before he knew it, it was already evening.


    Chen Fan slapped his forehead; he had been so careless.


    Yaoyao was shy, and with so many people outside, it wasn¡¯t easy for her to go out and buy food.


    Using his cane for support, Chen Fan opened the door and said to Yaoyao:


    ¡°I¡¯m going out to buy some food, wait here obediently at home.¡±


    He quickly went out the door.


    In the night, the lone figure of a crippled man cast a long shadow on the street.


    His thin figure, illuminated by the moonlight, stretched long like a snake or a sword.


    But Chen Fan wasn¡¯t walking aimlessly.


    He was going to buy food, because there was a girl waiting for him at home.


    With that thought, he felt a sense of belonging.


    It felt reassuring.


    He only hoped there would still be a shop open for late-night business.


    As he walked, another wobbly figure appeared out of nowhere. The wind blew, and the two figures seemed to overlap for a moment.


    Chen Fan felt a chill on his neck.


    A sharp sword pressed against his throat, and the person behind him said coldly in his ear:


    ¡°Someone asked me to give you a message.¡±


    ¡°Say it.¡±


    The sudden change didn¡¯t throw Chen Fan off balance.


    His cane, firmly planted in the ground, didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡°The Mo family¡¯s matters, you better not interfere, or¡­ you¡¯ll die!¡±


    ¡°The Mo family?¡±


    Chen Fan furrowed his brows at the mention of the Mo family. He had no idea who they were.


    Could it be from earlier today?


    He thought about it and started to understand.


    After a brief pause, he waved his hand:


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of the Mo family. If there¡¯s something to discuss, we can talk it out. There¡¯s no need to draw weapons right away, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Also, the sword¡¯s a bit cold. You¡¯re freezing my neck. Could you take it off first?¡±


    The person snorted coldly, probably hesitating.


    After a moment of thought, he still felt Chen Fan couldn¡¯t be left alive.


    He let out a light laugh:


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll take it off.¡±


    However, he actually intended to slit Chen Fan¡¯s throat.


    The blood-spurting scene he had imagined didn¡¯t come.


    Instead, he felt empty in his arms, and in the next moment, Chen Fan appeared behind him.


    The cane lightly tapped.


    The sword-wielding person fell to the ground.


    Chen Fan then saw that this was a black-clad person wearing a veil.


    On the sword, there was a mark of the character ¡®Mo.¡¯


    ¡°Who sent you?¡±


    Chen Fan didn¡¯t immediately finish him off. He waited until he obtained useful information before letting the person become a corpse.


    Then, without changing his expression, he leaned on his cane and leisurely continued walking down the empty street.


    Today seemed like a lucky day.


    One of the pancake shops was still open.


    Chen Fan bought some pancakes and filled his wine gourd on the way back.


    Halfway there, he encountered the half-immortal who had just finished his business and was heading home.


    They greeted each other and passed by.


    Before parting ways, the half-immortal turned back and reminded Chen Fan:


    ¡°Things aren¡¯t peaceful in the city lately. It¡¯s better not to go out at night. I just saw a drunk lying in the street, not moving, looking like a dead pig.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Chen Fan feigned ignorance.


    The half-immortal nodded:


    ¡°Yeah, I felt sorry for him and covered him with the only flag I had left. It¡¯s getting colder, and without any warm clothing, it¡¯s not good. Just doing a good deed.¡±


    To his surprise, the half-immortal was actually kind-hearted.


    Chen Fan was a bit surprised, but didn¡¯t know what to say.


    The half-immortal continued:


    ¡°It¡¯s getting late. You should rest. Tomorrow, the Mo family might have a funeral. We could take advantage of that to make some money. You play the suona, I¡¯ll handle the rites, and we¡¯ll both win!¡±


    With that, the half-immortal gave Chen Fan a thumbs-up, indicating that if there was any good opportunity, he wouldn¡¯t forget Chen Fan.


    Chen Fan smiled and nodded in agreement.


    On his way back, he noticed the black-clad person he had killed earlier, now covered with a white flag that bore the half-immortal¡¯s character ¡®ÏÉ.¡¯


    A slight smile tugged at Chen Fan¡¯s lips. This half-immortal was more cunning than he had expected.


    But he liked dealing with straightforward people like him.


    <hr>


    Back at home, Chen Fan and Yaoyao had pancakes together.


    After a hearty meal, he soon began to feel drowsy.


    Yaoyao curled up in his arms, half asleep, feeling safe.


    Chen Fan moved his lips, suddenly remembering something, and spoke:


    ¡°I¡¯m going out tomorrow for some business. Yaoyao, you¡¯ll be good and stay at home, right?¡±


    Yaoyao shifted a little like a little kitten, softly humming.


    It was unclear if she had heard him.

 If you bring me words, I will receive them.

    "Father... Why did you leave me..."


    A cry of grief resounded throughout Liuguang City.


    It caught the attention of the crowd passing by the Mo family estate.


    Old Master Mo had finally passed away, and it was his son, one of the Mo family heirs, who was wailing.


    With Old Master Mo''s death, this son became the new head of the Mo family.


    Originally, this matter had nothing to do with the people around.


    A rich man died, yet there were still thousands of poor people alive.


    However, that did not stop them from continuing to suffer.


    But then, Old Master Mo''s son set up a "flowing banquet," inviting the passing citizens to feast.


    Who could resist such a temptation?


    Thus, the crowd, pretending to mourn, showed expressions of reverence and nostalgia.


    "Old Master Mo did a lot for Liuguang City during his lifetime."


    "Yes, he built roads and bridges, never leaving anything unfinished."


    "Old Master Mo, may you rest in peace."


    "Old Master Mo... Um, this dish is a bit too salty."


    ...


    While eating, people pretended to be sorrowful.


    The atmosphere had a touch of sadness to it, making it seem like Old Master Mo had been such a benevolent man in life.


    He had built roads and bridges without a single body, yet his wicked deeds and wealth were never questioned.


    When Old Master Mo was alive, he was known as the living King of Hell, exploiting his employees and cutting wages without mercy.


    Yet after his death, he had transformed into a great philanthropist.


    This entire transformation was solely due to one meal.


    Ah, it''s delicious!


    Old Master Mo''s son, Mo Renxing, had now become a great filial son in the mouths of the people.


    He was so filial that he cried the entire morning, without a single break.


    His emotions were truly genuine.


    By noon, his voice had turned hoarse from all the crying.


    Chen Fan arrived just in time for the noon meal.


    He had spent some time preparing breakfast for Yaoyao in the morning.


    When he arrived, the new dishes were just being served.


    However, he had no intention of eating. He looked around but didn''t see the Half Immortal anywhere.


    He was puzzled, as the Half Immortal was greedy, and it was unlike him to pass up such a good opportunity to earn money.


    But it didn¡¯t matter.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Chen Fan, using his cane, dragged his disabled body through the crowd, struggling to walk.


    Soon, people noticed the suona hanging from his waist and made way for him.


    The cripple has come!


    Liuguang City was not that big, and after a while, rumors about the cripple had already spread, becoming the hot topic for people after a day¡¯s work.


    His sudden appearance at a funeral sparked curiosity.


    Could it be...


    Seeing the suona hanging from Chen Fan''s waist, the crowd¡¯s eyes revealed a hint of anticipation.


    They even forgot to eat.


    Chen Fan paid little attention to this. The road in front of him had cleared up significantly, leading him directly to the funeral hall.


    Mo Renxing, who was wailing in front of the coffin, noticed Chen Fan¡¯s arrival amidst the crowd''s commotion.


    His expression froze for a moment, and he looked somewhat unnatural.


    After a while, he forced out a smile that was worse than crying.


    "The cripple master has arrived! Quickly, bring him to the seat!"


    It was clear that he wanted to treat Chen Fan as a distinguished guest.


    Soon, the butler from yesterday rushed out from the inner room upon seeing Chen Fan.


    His eyes lit up.


    This was a turning point!


    Perhaps now Old Master Mo could be revived.


    In a flurry of activity, the butler ordered his subordinates to usher Chen Fan into the inner room and treat him well.


    However, Chen Fan waved his hand and said, "No need, I only have one thing to do today."


    "What is it?"


    Confused, the crowd watched as Chen Fan''s figure suddenly disappeared.


    This unusual occurrence caused the crowd to exclaim in surprise.


    When they saw him again, Chen Fan had one foot firmly planted on the ground.


    Mo Renxing was lying on the ground, his forehead pointed directly at the sharp tip of Chen Fan¡¯s cane.


    Cold sweat dripped down his face as he felt an icy chill.


    It felt as though the cane wasn''t just a walking stick but a gleaming, bloodstained spear aimed at his life.


    Though the sun was high in the sky, the atmosphere in the funeral hall was still filled with a chilling coldness.


    Perhaps it was because of this that Mo Renxing, shivering on the ground, wet himself.


    The smell of urine quickly spread through the air, making it unbearable.


    Chen Fan showed a hint of disdain, but his cane remained firmly positioned, looking down at the near-tearful Mo Renxing, and said softly, "I came to tell you that I¡¯ve received the message you had someone bring to me."


    After saying that, Chen Fan slammed the cane down hard.


    Mo Renxing, terrified, closed his eyes.


    However, the cane did not pierce his body.


    Instead, it shattered a piece of floor tile behind his head.


    Dust flew, and debris scattered in all directions.


    Chen Fan slowly turned around and began to leave, leaning on his cane.


    "I never intended to meddle in any trivial matters. After all, I¡¯m just a cripple who makes a living by playing the suona. Red affairs cost five coins, white affairs cost ten coins, and an extra five coins if there¡¯s no food included. If you have business, just come find me."


    "But dealing with the dead and their bones... these vague, illusory matters, you¡¯ve got the wrong person."


    "I can only say that you need to face reality and believe in science!"


    After speaking, Chen Fan vanished like the wind.


    It seemed as though he flew away, or perhaps he just ran off without a trace.


    Either way, he disappeared before everyone¡¯s eyes.


    "Face reality and believe in science?"


    If you say that, no one will believe you, right?


    What happened today left the butler and everyone else in the funeral hall stunned.


    For a long time after Chen Fan left, the hall remained eerily silent.


    Even the onlookers outside were quiet.


    Until the butler finally snapped out of it, his sharp gaze piercing through to Mo Renxing, who was still lying on the ground, his pants wet.


    Having been by Old Master Mo''s side for so many years, the butler was quite perceptive when it came to reading people.


    He knew exactly what had happened¡ªwhy the cripple had appeared and what had transpired.


    With one look, the butler had understood everything.


    There was a sense of helplessness, frustration, and more than anything, powerlessness.


    He sighed deeply, flicked his sleeve, and walked away, leaving Mo Renxing on the ground.


    Mo Renxing¡¯s eyes burned with resentment, full of intense hatred.


    Today¡¯s events had caught him completely off guard, causing him to lose all face. No one had expected that a mere cripple could have such abilities.


    It was a miscalculation on his part.


    He ordered his servants to drive the onlookers away and closed the gates of the estate.


    His eyes now glowed with a cruel and vengeful light.


    <hr>


    On the way back, Chen Fan leisurely chewed on his snack, feeling quite content.


    He simply wanted to live peacefully, that was all. Mo Renxing had gone too far, and he didn¡¯t mind teaching him a lesson.


    As for any potential retaliation, he could come if he wanted.


    Chen Fan feared trouble, truly feared it!


    But some things were inevitable, like the tide of time, unstoppable as the wheels of history roll forward.


    People had to move forward in life.


    On another note, Chen Fan realized he hadn¡¯t seen the Half Immortal today.


    He made a deliberate detour through the bridge but still didn¡¯t see any sign of him.


    At a nearby bun shop, he bought two meat buns and asked the owner about the Half Immortal.


    He was told that early this morning, the Half Immortal had been taken away by the authorities.

 Three Trigrams

    As for why he was taken away, it was said that he was involved in a murder.


    Early this morning, a corpse from the Mo family was discovered on the roadside.


    The body was covered by a flag.


    It was exactly the same flag that the so-called "Half-Sage" usually carried. So, this incident was somehow placed on the Half-Sage¡¯s head.


    After hearing this, Chen Fan couldn¡¯t help but laugh and cry at the same time.


    He finished his steamed buns by the roadside and hobbled towards the yamen (government office).


    If only he had removed the flag when he left last night, this incident wouldn¡¯t have happened.


    ...


    In a world ruled by immortals, the government was extremely lazy.


    Usually, they only cared about two things ¡ª neither of which they actually managed well.


    So, Chen Fan didn¡¯t have to put in much effort. With some soft words and a bit of silver to bribe them, by nightfall, he had successfully bailed out the Half-Sage.


    When the Half-Sage saw Chen Fan, his face looked so gloomy it was about to drip with water.


    At the drinking table, he complained to Chen Fan.


    He had good intentions, but things went wrong.


    He didn¡¯t know who had killed someone and just left the body on the roadside, without caring at all.


    Even if they had just dug a hole and buried it, he wouldn¡¯t have said anything.


    Chen Fan quietly listened, not saying a word.


    But from now on, when killing someone, he would add an extra step to ensure proper handling afterward.


    Throwing the body on the roadside wasn¡¯t good ¡ª it was like urinating in public, making it seem uncivilized.


    Chen Fan agreed with the Half-Sage¡¯s words.


    So, he nodded slightly, occasionally sipping his drink.


    While chatting, the Half-Sage suddenly pulled out fifty taels of silver from his pocket.


    He insisted on thanking Chen Fan.


    Although he had lost a little money, he could still leave the prison safely.


    But the fact that Chen Fan came to rescue him after knowing about it made the Half-Sage deeply touched.


    Because of this, the money should not be in vain for Chen Fan.


    Chen Fan refused to accept it, saying that since he had killed the person, he felt too guilty to take the money.


    However, one side wanted to give, the other side didn¡¯t want to take.


    After pushing back and forth, it felt somewhat inappropriate.


    Finally, the Half-Sage slapped his hand and took the money back.


    "Brother, since you don¡¯t want my money, I, the Half-Sage, can¡¯t owe you a favor for nothing. How about this: I¡¯ll give you three divinations for free. I guarantee they are authentic, without any trickery."


    Chen Fan thought about it and figured that the Half-Sage¡¯s half-baked skills wouldn¡¯t be worth much, so he agreed.


    He sat down again, and the Half-Sage became serious.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He stared at Chen Fan¡¯s face for a long time, making Chen Fan feel a little uneasy.


    Then, the Half-Sage nodded slightly and said:


    "This first divination: ''Gen'' is for mountain, ''Dui'' is for marsh... Recently, you will face trouble due to earth. It¡¯s best to stay away from places with mountains and rivers; otherwise, you will encounter disaster¡­"


    After listening to the Half-Sage¡¯s mumbling, Chen Fan was somewhat confused.


    He understood every word the Half-Sage said, but when they were put together, he couldn¡¯t make any sense of it.


    The only thing he understood was that he would face disaster soon and should avoid places with mountains and rivers.


    Chen Fan didn¡¯t believe in this and just thought the Half-Sage was talking nonsense, so he smiled and brushed it off.


    After three rounds of drinks,


    The Half-Sage stumbled to his feet, his face flushed, already a bit tipsy.


    He patted Chen Fan¡¯s shoulder with a broad palm.


    The calluses on his hand made Chen Fan¡¯s shoulder ache, but he still held his cane and helped the drunk Half-Sage up.


    The Half-Sage babbled:


    "Brother, one more thing: Avoid earth, water, and wood. Keep it in mind."


    After saying this, the Half-Sage lifted his foot and was about to leave.


    However, right in front of Chen Fan, he tripped and fell flat on his face.


    Having drunk so much, who would believe his words now?


    Chen Fan went up and helped the Half-Sage up, sighed, and said:


    "Where do you live? Let me send you back."


    The Half-Sage was stubborn and waved his hand, saying he could walk on his own.


    Then, after shaking his head three times, he staggered off.


    Chen Fan watched him leave until he could no longer see his figure, and only then did he leave the tavern, leaning on his cane.


    ...


    That night, the Mo family mansion was eerily silent.


    The elderly head of the family had passed away, and it should have been a time for mourning and guarding the spirit, but the entire mourning hall was empty.


    Inside the main house, the things had been smashed to pieces by Mo Renxing, and anything breakable was shattered.


    Most of it was valuable items.


    If they had been cheaper, Mo Renxing would have felt like it wasn¡¯t enough.


    The housekeeper stood silently in the corner, not daring to speak, his eyes filled with a trace of disappointment.


    The eldest son was incompetent, and the second son, still away studying, hadn¡¯t returned.


    The Mo family, having lost its head, was on the verge of collapse.


    Mo Renxing didn¡¯t think about sending his father on his final journey. Instead, his thoughts were only on the family property and his position.


    The housekeeper even suspected that the second son had already been secretly eliminated by Mo Renxing and would never return.


    Thinking about this, his heart grew cold.


    He had worked at the Mo family for half his life, and now it was time to leave.


    "How much longer until they arrive?"


    Suddenly, Mo Renxing spoke.


    The housekeeper calculated the time and quietly replied:


    "Two hours have passed. They should be arriving soon."


    Just then, there was a knock at the door.


    A servant entered, leading two young men dressed in Daoist robes, each holding a sword.


    When the door was opened, Mo Renxing, whose face was dark, immediately showed a smile.


    He respectfully invited them in, offered them tea, and then cautiously spoke:


    "May I ask the names of the two esteemed Daoist masters?"


    "Liuyun Immortal Sect, Zhao Shan!"


    "Zhao Huai!"


    The two young men each clasped their hands in greeting, but never once looked directly at Mo Renxing.


    Mo Renxing didn¡¯t dare show any displeasure and accompanied them respectfully, showing a bit of reverence and admiration:


    "I invited you both to come¡­"


    "Enough!"


    Zhao Shan, on the left, raised his hand to stop Mo Renxing¡¯s words, his square face full of arrogance:


    "Our Liuyun Immortal Sect does take some secular jobs, but not just anyone can afford to invite us!"


    Zhao Huai nodded in agreement:


    "From the moment we stepped out of the mountain gate, the fee began. If you want to kill, it¡¯s another charge¡ªfour thousand taels per head. Buy one, get one free!"


    "In other words, from the moment you invited us, whether we kill or not, you must pay a thousand taels as a fee, no matter what. That¡¯s the rule!"


    "Eh~"


    Upon hearing these numbers, Mo Renxing immediately sobered up.


    Four thousand taels per head, plus the travel fee, that¡¯s five thousand taels.


    A full five thousand taels¡ªthis was equivalent to the revenue from his Mo family cloth workshop for an entire month.


    But recalling Chen Fan¡¯s actions earlier, if he didn¡¯t deal with this, how could he still hold his position as head of the family?


    After what happened, no one in Liuguang City would dare to provoke Chen Fan anymore, except for the Floating Kun Palace and the Liuyun Immortal Sect.


    To treat this grievance, Mo Renxing was ready to go all in.


    He gritted his teeth and waved to the housekeeper:


    "Go get the money!"


    The housekeeper opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself.


    He could only turn and go to the account room to fetch the money.


    After Zhao Shan and Zhao Huai received the money, they inquired about Chen Fan¡¯s situation.


    In the end, they simply left with a light phrase, "Wait for good news," and departed.


    Their arrogant attitude and dismissive gaze made Mo Renxing¡¯s heart uneasy.


    After the housekeeper completed everything, he also made up his mind to leave.


    Returning to his room, he packed his belongings that night and took the savings he had accumulated over the years, quietly leaving the Mo family while the night was dark and the wind was strong.


    Not going far, he suddenly remembered Chen Fan.


    Chen Fan was innocent. Because of Mo Renxing, he had unnecessarily provoked the powerful Liuyun Immortal Sect. It was truly not worth it.


    After some thought, the housekeeper decided to inform Chen Fan.


    It was just a matter