Uninvited Guests

The next morning, early mist blanketed both banks of the Thanh Van River.

The old boat continued downstream.

From a distance, it looked no different from an ordinary riverboat: weathered wooden planks, a low sail, a narrow rear cabin, and several pots of green plants arranged on the deck.

Unless one looked closely, no one would have guessed that aboard it was a young man who had just entered the fifth layer of Qi Condensation, a young girl standing at the threshold of drawing qi into her body, and an ancient vessel sleeping beneath layers of seals.

Hao Nhien sat at the bow.

The Tieu Dao Sword rested across his knees.

His eyes were half-closed, his breathing steady, but his mind was anything but relaxed.

Last night, he had sensed several unfamiliar breaths behind the reeds.

They had not attacked immediately.

Maybe they were watching.

Maybe they were waiting for an opportunity.

Maybe they were only passing cultivators.

But Hao Nhien did not believe in that kind of luck.

The river route from Thanh Van Town to Thanh Van City was not some desolate stretch with no travelers. Merchant boats, cargo vessels, fishing boats, even cultivator craft could all pass through.

But if they were merely passing by, there was no reason to hide their breathing behind the reeds for half the night.

Those who hid themselves rarely came to ask for directions.

Tieu Lan stepped out from the inner cabin, carrying a bowl of hot porridge.

“Young Master, eat a little.”

Hao Nhien opened his eyes.

He looked at the porridge, then at her expression.

Tieu Lan looked much the same as usual, but there was a trace of uncertainty in her eyes. She was very sensitive to his mood. Perhaps from the moment she woke, she had already sensed that something was different.

Hao Nhien accepted the bowl.

“Have you eaten?”

“I have.”

After saying that, she lowered her head slightly and asked in a soft voice,

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

Hao Nhien did not answer immediately.

He looked toward both banks.

The mist was still thick.

The reeds swayed.

The river ahead narrowed slightly, with higher rock banks and denser trees on both sides.

It was a very suitable place to stop a boat.

If someone wanted to make a move, this stretch was far better than the broad section of river from the night before.

Hao Nhien took a sip of porridge and said quietly,

“Someone is following us.”

Tieu Lan froze.

The hand gripping the edge of her robe tightened unconsciously.

“People from the Han family?”

“Not necessarily.”

Her face turned slightly pale, but she did not panic the way she once would have.

After everything they had gone through, she was still afraid.

But she had learned not to let fear throw her hands and feet into chaos.

“What should I do?”

“For now, act as usual.”

Hao Nhien set the bowl down.

“Put the important medicinal liquids away. If anything happens, go straight into the rear cabin and close the door.”

“But Young Master…”

“Listen to me.”

His voice was not harsh.

But it was clear.

Tieu Lan pressed her lips together.

“Yes.”

She turned toward the cabin, but after two steps she stopped.

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“I can handle it.”

Tieu Lan nodded.

Her eyes were still worried.

But she said nothing more.

She went inside.

Hao Nhien stood.

The fifth layer had connected the qi in both arms with Shanzhong more smoothly than before. That allowed his fists, his sword, and the Spirit Sword to work together more naturally.

But he did not become arrogant because of it.

The fifth layer was still only the middle stage of Qi Condensation.

If the people behind the reeds were only at the fourth or fifth layer, he was not afraid.

If they were at the sixth or seventh—

he would have to calculate carefully.

If they were stronger…

Hao Nhien’s gaze darkened.

The boat continued drifting into the narrow stretch of river.

The mist gradually thinned.

Weak sunlight fell across the water, but it did nothing to warm the atmosphere.

Dense trees crowded both banks, their old roots gripping the rock, while reeds grew close to the waterline.

The current here was slow and deep.

The water turned dark green.

Hao Nhien stood at the bow as though he were merely admiring the scenery.

But his faint spiritual sense remained spread around the boat.

The three breaths appeared again.

Closer.

No longer hiding as carefully.

They were approaching.

Hao Nhien had just begun to step back toward the cabin when the whistle of wind suddenly sounded overhead.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The boat trembled slightly.

Tieu Lan turned sharply from the front cabin.

The three men who had appeared looked to be around thirty, and not one of them had anything remotely kind in his face.

The first to land was clearly the leader.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and powerfully built. His black robe was torn in several places, exposing old scars across his skin.

A deep scar ran from his left ear toward his collarbone. The flesh around it had tightened, making his already fierce face even more savage.

In his hand was a broad saber, black-bladed and thick, heavy as a slab of iron.

The man standing behind him to the left was thinner.

Sallow skin.

Thin lips.

Long, narrow eyes.

The corner of his mouth constantly curled in a cold smile.

He wore a faded gray robe and held a slender longsword in his right hand. His body never stood completely straight, leaning slightly forward like a snake choosing where to strike.

The third man was short but stocky, with a thick beard covering nearly half his face.

A massive iron mace rested over his shoulder.

Its head was black and polished.

Spikes covered its surface.

Each time he shifted, the mace gave off a heavy metallic sound.

The three formed a triangle.

Killing intent immediately pressed down over the small deck.

Tieu Lan instinctively stepped out from the cabin, gripping her robe tightly, her breathing quickening.

Hao Nhien reached one hand behind him and gently blocked her path.

His heart sank slightly.

These three would not be easy to deal with.

The leader’s aura was heavy.

Clearly very strong.

The thin man in gray was weaker, but his eyes were too alert. He was probably difficult to fool.

The short man with the mace had tremendous raw strength, and his aura was at least no weaker than Uncle That’s.

This book was originally published on NovelPhoenix. Check it out there for the real experience.

All three had boarded the boat.

No questions.

No greeting.

No attempt to hide their killing intent.

Their purpose was obviously not friendly.

Hao Nhien cupped his hands, his voice still calm.

“May I ask what urgent matter brings you gentlemen onto our boat?”

The leader said nothing.

The short man burst out laughing.

“Little brother, pretending to be innocent? What urgent matter could there be? We’re short on spirit stones for cultivation and need a little help from you. Mm, I suppose that counts as urgent.”

Then he pointed at the leader, his tone full of pride.

“Our big brother Moc Luc is about to break through to Foundation Establishment. He needs a little capital. You two shouldn’t be stingy.”

He had just taken a step forward when the gray-robed man reached out and pulled him back.

“Little brother, let me talk.”

The gray-robed man looked at Hao Nhien and smiled faintly.

“I’m Moc Hoa. This hot-tempered fellow is Moc Thach. He never knows how to hold back once he starts fighting, so don’t make him do it.”

Hao Nhien thought to himself:

A man named Moc Hoa (Fire) calling someone else hot-tempered… what a name.

What a name.

But nothing showed on his face.

Moc Luc was at the ninth layer of Qi Condensation and close to Foundation Establishment.

This was an opponent Hao Nhien absolutely could not fight head-on.

No plan.

So first—

a gentleman used his mouth before his sword.

Seeing Hao Nhien remain silent, the smile on Moc Hoa’s lips deepened.

“Bring out anything valuable. I’ll pick a few suitable things and consider it a temporary loan.”

“You can keep whatever is useless.”

“We’re all cultivators here. There’s no reason to lose your life over a few possessions.”

His gaze moved over Hao Nhien.

Then lingered on Tieu Lan longer than necessary.

“Besides, little brother, you have such a pretty girl beside you.”

“Don’t make her suffer because of you.”

Tieu Lan instinctively stepped back half a pace.

Hao Nhien saw it.

His gaze cooled slightly.

Tieu Lan hurriedly spoke.

“We only have a little gold left. We really don’t have anything else. We’re going to Thanh Van City to meet relatives. If you want it, take all of it.”

She pulled a small pouch from her clothes and tossed it toward Moc Hoa.

Moc Hoa caught it.

Opened it.

Inside were only a few scattered gold coins.

He held up the pouch and sneered.

“Miss, do you think we’re beggars?”

Moc Luc had not spoken until now.

Only then did he say coldly,

“Wrong day.”

“This boat really doesn’t have much worth taking.”

He waved one hand casually.

“Moc Thach, take those medicinal herbs.”

“They’re decent quality. We can trade them for some spirit stones.”

“Moc Hoa, take the ring from the boy’s hand.”

“Don’t want to take it off?”

He lifted his broad saber slightly.

“Then cut off the hand.”

His tone was calm.

As casual as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with life or death.

The atmosphere on the deck immediately turned cold.

Moc Thach grinned and walked toward the pots of medicinal herbs.

He roughly grabbed a handful of Clearheart Grass and tore it free.

The tender roots ripped out of the soil.

Tieu Lan trembled behind Hao Nhien.

Her eyes reddened with anger and heartache, but she bit her lip and made no sound.

Moc Thach looked at the remaining pots.

“Annoying.”

He lifted one foot.

Crack.

A pot shattered across the deck.

Soil scattered.

Tender roots rolled across the wooden floor.

Tieu Lan instinctively stepped forward half a pace.

Hao Nhien stretched out an arm and blocked her.

Moc Hoa had already walked slowly toward him.

His gaze slid toward Tieu Lan again.

The smile at the corner of his mouth made Hao Nhien feel cold.

Hao Nhien looked at them.

One man was destroying Tieu Lan’s herbs as though they were weeds.

One looked at her in a way that made him deeply uneasy.

One could say “cut off the hand” simply because he refused to surrender a ring.

At this point, Hao Nhien stopped lying to himself.

They had not come merely to take a little silver and leave.

If he yielded one step they would take another.

The medicinal herbs.

The medicinal liquids.

The ring.

The Tieu Dao Sword.

The secrets he carried.

Then perhaps Tieu Lan.

And finally—

both their lives.

It was not that he was being paranoid.

From the moment these three stepped onto the boat, they had never treated Hao Nhien and Tieu Lan as people they needed to negotiate with.

Only prey.

Hao Nhien felt his heartbeat slow.

No trembling.

No heat.

Only cold.

If he did nothing, he could lose everything.

If he fought—

at least there was still a road to survival.

He did not like killing.

But he could not stand there and watch Tieu Lan be dragged away, watch his secrets fall into someone else’s hands, and then wait for them to decide when to kill him.

Then there was only one choice left.

He had to strike first.

But first—

he needed an opening.

Hao Nhien kept his expression calm.

“You gentlemen are certainly not very polite.”

“We are from the Quan family.”

“I am Quan Hao Nhien.”

“If the Quan family learns that you robbed us on the river, I’m afraid you’ll have a difficult time escaping pursuit afterward.”

“Cultivation would hardly be peaceful then, would it?”

With no better option, he tried using the Quan family as a shield.

Beside him, Tieu Lan lightly tugged his sleeve.

Moc Hoa and Moc Thach really did stop.

Both looked toward Moc Luc.

Moc Luc turned to Hao Nhien.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he suddenly smiled.

“The Quan family?”

“Not bad.”

He stepped forward as he spoke.

“Looking at your cultivation, you must be something precious within the clan.”

“But if you’re so precious, why are you wandering the rivers without an elder accompanying you?”

He looked at Hao Nhien like prey clumsily wrapped in a tiger skin.

“Does the Quan family have no elders?”

“Or does the family simply not value you?”

With one sentence—

Hao Nhien’s shield had been broken.

His heart sank slightly.

But outwardly, he still backed down.

“Big brother, I really am from the Quan family. I only slipped away from my father to gain experience.”

“I hope you can give the Quan family some face this once.”

“We can leave the gold and some of the medicinal herbs. Consider it making friends.”

Moc Luc stopped.

His gaze moved over Hao Nhien.

Then toward Tieu Lan.

Hao Nhien played along, revealing a trace of fear as he edged away from Moc Thach.

One step.

Two steps.

The right position.

Moc Luc narrowed his eyes.

Then stepped forward.

At that exact moment, Hao Nhien suddenly looked behind him.

His eyes lit up.

“The Quan family’s boat is here!”

Moc Thach turned immediately.

Moc Hoa shifted his gaze.

Moc Luc also froze instinctively and looked back.

Behind him was only empty river.

No boat.

No banner.

No one from the Quan family.

Moc Luc instantly spun around.

“You want to die!”

But Hao Nhien was already there.

The Tieu Dao Sword was in his hand.

Its tip was only a handspan from Moc Luc’s chest.

True qi erupted from Moc Luc’s body.

A protective layer appeared before his chest.

At the same time, he retreated sharply.

But the Spirit Sword had already been called upon.

An invisible chill pierced straight into Moc Luc’s soul.

His body froze.

Only for an instant.

But in that instant, Hao Nhien saw the protective true qi over his chest suddenly fall into disorder.

The sword tip that should have met heavy resistance suddenly felt lighter.

Pfft.

The Tieu Dao Sword pierced through the stalled protective qi, broke through the inner armor, and drove straight into his chest.

Hao Nhien’s heart jolted.

So that was it.

The Spirit Sword did not merely stun the opponent.

The moment the soul was shaken, the intent controlling true qi was also interrupted.

Once protective true qi lost that control it was no longer as complete as before.

Only an instant.

But with a sword already at the chest—

an instant was enough.

Hao Nhien had no time to think further.

The blade had already pierced the heart.

Moc Luc’s eyes widened.

The broad saber in his hand rose only halfway before dropping.

The strength drained rapidly from his body.

Hao Nhien pulled the sword free.

Fast.

He did not look at the body that fell.

No joy.

No hesitation.

He immediately stepped back in front of Tieu Lan.

“Tieu Lan, go inside and close the door.”

“Do not come out until I call you.”

“Now!”

Tieu Lan was still frightened.

“Young Master…”

“Now!”

Hao Nhien’s voice hardened.

Tieu Lan bit her lip.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

But she still turned and ran into the cabin.

As she ran, she looked back at him.

The cabin door closed.

Hao Nhien let out a very slight breath.

The strongest one was dead.

But it was not over.

Now came the real gamble.

Moc Hoa stood frozen, staring at the wound in Moc Luc’s chest before looking back at Hao Nhien.

His eyes were completely different now.

Moc Thach was not nearly as calm.

He roared,

“Big brother!”

Then raised his iron mace and charged.

Moc Hoa instantly grabbed his arm.

“Moc Thach! Calm down!”

Moc Thach struggled violently.

“Let go! I’ll kill him!”

But he could not immediately break free from Moc Hoa’s grip.

Hao Nhien saw it.

Moc Hoa was at least in the late stage of Qi Condensation.

Possibly the seventh layer.

Possibly the eighth.

Moc Thach was probably around the sixth layer, and had not advanced for long.

Strong in brute force.

Hot-tempered.

Hao Nhien retreated another half-step.

His foot lightly touched the deck.

The Spirit Sword had just been used.

It could not immediately answer him again.

He needed time.

A few breaths to recover.

At that moment, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

The Cosmic Ark.

Ever since the seal had opened a crack, the vessel had begun responding to him.

Then—

could it respond to his intent?

Hao Nhien sent a faint thread of thought down into the hull.

Tilt right.

Very slightly.

Almost nothing more than a test.

The boat beneath his feet trembled.

So faintly that it was almost impossible to notice.

But it responded.

Hao Nhien’s pupils contracted slightly.

It can.

He immediately withdrew his intent.

He did not let the boat continue moving.

Moc Hoa was still holding Moc Thach and seemed not to have noticed the faint tremor.

Nothing showed on Hao Nhien’s face.

But a plan had already taken shape in his mind.

Moc Hoa stared at him.

Then slowly pulled Moc Thach half a step back.

“This brat is strange.”

“He has some method that can make big brother freeze for an instant.”

Hao Nhien felt a chill inside.

This man observed very well.

Far more troublesome than Moc Thach.

Moc Hoa raised his sword.

“We go together.”

“Slowly.”

“Don’t separate.”

Hao Nhien tightened his grip on the Tieu Dao Sword.

Two breaths.

Three breaths.

The Spirit Sword within his meridians was beginning to respond again.

Not enough.

He needed more time.

He needed Moc Thach to make a mistake.

He needed Moc Hoa to be unable to save him.

Hao Nhien suddenly sneered.

“Just a pile of trash.”

Moc Thach’s eyes bulged.

Hao Nhien looked straight at him.

“Three brothers bullying a seventeen-year-old Qi Condensation cultivator, and you still call yourselves cultivators?”

“You’ll be reunited soon enough.”

“Come on then. Show me what you’ve got, blockhead.”

Moc Hoa immediately turned toward Moc Thach.

But it was already too late.

“Who the hell are you calling a blockhead!”

Moc Thach roared.

One foot slammed into the deck.

The iron mace rose high above his head.

He charged straight forward.

Moc Hoa cursed and immediately followed.

But Hao Nhien saw clearly that Moc Hoa was still half a step behind.

His sword could not reach immediately.

Hao Nhien did not retreat.

He only watched Moc Thach’s steps.

One step.

Two steps.

The right position.

His intent instantly sank into the hull.

Tilt.

The boat suddenly lurched hard to one side.

The right side rose.

The left side sank nearly half a meter.

Moc Thach had already thrown all his weight forward, with the heavy mace raised over his head—

and instantly lost his balance.

His entire body fell to the left.

Right into Moc Hoa’s sword path.

The point of Moc Hoa’s sword nearly stabbed into his companion’s back.

He was forced to pull it back.

That was the moment—

Hao Nhien struck.

Still only one straight thrust.

Cold.

Clean.

Nothing wasted.

Moc Thach hurriedly tried to pull the mace back.

The Spirit Sword from Hao Nhien’s soul had already struck first.

The Tieu Dao Sword followed immediately behind.

Moc Thach’s body froze.

Pfft.

The Tieu Dao Sword pierced through his thick neck.

His roar died in his throat.

Blood sprayed.

The boat slowly returned to balance.

Several waves caused by the movement struck the reeds along the bank in quick succession.

Only then did Moc Thach fall.

The iron mace slipped from his hand.

Boom.

The deck shook.

Hao Nhien turned the sword point toward Moc Hoa.

He wanted to finish him too.

But he could not yet.

Using the Spirit Sword twice in quick succession had worn down his soul power.

A dull ache throbbed between his brows.

The meridians in his right arm trembled slightly.

If he forced it again—

it might fail.

He needed time.

Moc Hoa did not charge either.

He looked at Moc Thach’s body.

Then at the boat that had just returned to balance.

Finally, his gaze settled on Hao Nhien.

Hao Nhien understood immediately.

This man had begun to suspect.

Not only the Spirit Sword.

The boat as well.

If he escaped—

those suspicions would go with him.

Hao Nhien tightened his grip on the sword.

This man had to die even more.

The Spirit Sword in his meridians was gradually stabilizing again.

A little more.

Just a little more.

Moc Hoa suddenly raised his sword.

The point aimed straight at Hao Nhien’s chest.

Hao Nhien immediately retreated one step.

Just a little more.

Then he could call upon the Spirit Sword again.

But Moc Hoa did not advance.

He retreated.

His left hand swept out.

A cloud of black smoke instantly burst forth and rushed toward Hao Nhien.

A foul, fishy stench struck him.

Hao Nhien reacted immediately.

He retreated sharply.

One hand covered his nose.

Spiritual qi circulated as he sealed his breathing.

But he was still a little too slow.

A trace of poisonous gas had already entered.

His throat tightened.

The meridians around his chest went numb.

Hao Nhien tried to see through the black haze.

He caught only a shadow retreating quickly into the reeds along the bank.

The aura grew farther and farther away.

He could not chase.

If he entered the poison cloud he would die.

A few breaths later, the smoke began to thin.

Hao Nhien knew he was about to fall.

But he forced himself to remain standing for one more breath.

Only to make sure Moc Hoa was truly gone.

On the deck remained only two corpses.

One broad saber.

One iron mace.

And a trail of blood across the wooden planks.

Hao Nhien remained standing.

Blood dripped from the Tieu Dao Sword in his hand.

He felt no joy.

He had killed two opponents above his level and felt no happiness at all.

Because one had escaped.

One man had seen that Hao Nhien possessed a method capable of making an opponent freeze for an instant.

He had seen the strange reaction of the boat.

He had begun to suspect that Hao Nhien carried secrets.

If Moc Hoa returned with more people the consequences were impossible to imagine.

Hao Nhien wanted to call out and tell Tieu Lan not to come outside.

But the moment his lips moved his vision went black.

The poison began to spread.

His arm went numb.

His chest felt as though cold mud had sealed it shut.

The circulation of spiritual qi slowed more and more.

Inside the cabin, Tieu Lan pounded on the door.

“Young Master!”

“What happened?”

Hao Nhien tried to brace himself upright with the sword.

“Don’t…”

He wanted to tell her not to come out.

But he only managed to force out one word.

His knees gave way.

The Tieu Dao Sword slipped from his hand and gave off a faint ring.

His body collapsed onto the deck.

Cold wind swept across the river.

The narrow stretch of water fell silent again as though nothing had ever happened.