Chapter 127: A Brief Departure

Chen Jin did not attempt to stop Old Madam Zhang from whisking him away.

He felt a chilling, tempestuous wind scoop him up, rendering him weightless. He swept past the funeral hall, caught a glimpse of the starry sky, and finally landed in the midst of a forest. The entire journey took less than half a minute—over in the blink of an eye, or perhaps a few dozen blinks.

The mountain forest was silent; it was likely one of the smaller ridges of Mount Emei. Chen Jin’s eyes had long since gained the ability to see in the dark, so the gloom of the woods meant nothing to him. He could distinguish the trees and the terrain as clearly as if it were daylight.

"Junbao, will you come with Grandmother to Fengdu?" Old Madam Zhang, who was still emitting a faint, firefly-like glow, asked.

"I do not wish to go," Chen Jin refused again.

"Very well. I know that children and grandchildren have their own destinies. However, this land of Sichuan is by no means a blessed place for the Zhang family. It would be best not to linger in the regions south of the Yangtze for too long. You should head north; that is where many heroes reside. You might go to Chang'an—if you meet a true ruler, perhaps you can assist them in restoring the glory of the realm. This dynasty belongs to the Li family, and they have long revered the Daoist sects. Had the Wu family not intervened, the Buddhist sects would never have had the chance to flourish as they do now. But our family has no intention of reviving the Daoist path; after all, the Daoist sects have already abandoned the Zhangs, just as the Buddhists have. As long as you live well, that is all that matters. Do you understand?" Old Madam Zhang continued with her instructions.

"I understand," Chen Jin replied, though he had no desire to exchange further pleasantries. Her gaze, filled with genuine concern, made him uncomfortable; it made him feel as though he truly were the simple-minded Zhang Junbao. While this was not enough to make him fly into a rage, it was certainly enough to leave him feeling stifled.

"Go now. Grandmother has used a precious talisman granted by the Great Emperor of Fengdu. Unless one is a true immortal, no one will be able to track our movements," Old Madam Zhang added.

"Yes, thank... thank you," Chen Jin nodded. He finally offered a word of thanks before turning toward the deeper parts of the forest, heading in the direction of the north.

Old Madam Zhang remained silent, watching him walk away. Chen Jin could feel her gaze upon him, but he did not pull away; after all, he now occupied Zhang Junbao’s body and could not bring himself to reject the concern of this body’s own grandmother. However, as he walked further, the sensation of being watched gradually faded.

"So, that’s how this whole affair ends?" Chen Jin lightly leaped onto a tree, landing on its canopy, and looked up at the brilliant firmament. He had plenty of thoughts about the situation, but the final outcome was unexpectedly simple. His own body had been what they called a 'sarira,' and the cat demon had been so fragile that it had collapsed like a deflated balloon, its demonic energy completely spent. As for his newfound grandmother, she was terrifyingly powerful—to think she could meet the Great Emperor of Fengdu and even obtain his talisman, one could almost suspect she had some sort of connection with him.

But for Chen Jin, he had finally stepped out of that muddy pond. Now, he was ready to plunge into the great rivers and oceans, shedding his former self to transform from a small goldfish into a mighty crocodile.

Rumble...

Pitter-patter...

Rain suddenly began to pour, drenching Chen Jin’s head and turning him into a drowned rat in an instant.

"Not bad. This feels like a true cleansing," Chen Jin thought, choosing not to use his Primordial Qi to block the downpour.

*Whoosh!*

Standing atop the canopy, Chen Jin let out a long, resonant cry toward the heavens. Then, he began to leap and bound through the treetops, his figure gradually fading as he delved deep into the heart of Mount Emei.

...

At the foot of Mount Emei stood a dilapidated temple. It was a shrine to a mountain deity, far less grand than the incense-filled temples higher up the mountain. It had become a temporary shelter for mountain folk passing through, and for those Sichuan travelers braving the treacherous trails of Emei. While the deity of this shrine could no longer protect the local populace, the structure still provided a sense of security to travelers, who would occasionally offer a stick of incense in worship.

Chen Jin now appeared as a disheveled youth. He was truly disheveled—his clothes had been reduced to strips that clung to his frame, giving him a rugged, dashing look. If he didn't wash his face or tidy his hair, he would look exactly like a little beggar who had traveled across many mountains. Though, for now, he was simply a little beggar who happened to be fond of cleanliness.

The sudden mountain rain had driven him into this ruined shrine. It was already occupied by a number of people. The scene felt oddly familiar to Chen Jin.

There was a young girl disguised as a man (whose face was covered in a few adolescent pimples, so calling her a girl was fitting), accompanied by three attendants. The attendants were brawny, fierce-looking men who did not seem like people to be trifled with.

Aside from these four, there were three others sitting in a tense, divided cluster: one man and two women. The two women were constantly glaring at each other, clearly at odds, while the man sat between them looking as awkward as someone suffering from severe constipation, likely feeling like a chicken being roasted over an open fire.

This was the sort of scenario Chen Jin had often read about in novels. Usually, some major incident would occur, prompting him—the hidden expert—to reveal a fraction of his power and earn everyone’s adoration. Of course, before that, there would be the "suppression before the elevation," where everyone present would look upon him with contempt.

However, the people in the temple merely glanced at him and offered a polite nod. There was no hostility, and no one looked down on his bedraggled state or tried to cause him trouble.

"Fine. That’s okay too. Even if I can't show off, there will be plenty of opportunities for that in life," Chen Jin thought to himself. After the brief exchange of nods, he found a spot and sat down, intending to get some rest.

*Snap, snap...*

Chen Jin pulled a few pieces of flint from his robes, struck them together a few times, and soon had a fire crackling.

...

The girl disguised as a man had been scanning him with her eyes ever since he entered.

"Uncle Hu, this kid's martial arts seem quite impressive," the girl whispered to the middle-aged man beside her, who had a scar on his chin.

"Very impressive," the man replied, glancing at Chen Jin before nodding.

"..." The girl was speechless, but she couldn't help asking, "Just how impressive? How does he compare to Brother Zhang from the Broken Blade Sect?"

"Much more impressive. By a long shot," Uncle Hu replied.

"..." The girl now had her answer.

"Uncle Hu, you say there are so many legends of sword immortals in the land of Bashu. Do you think this kid could be one?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"I don't know," Uncle Hu shook his head.

"..."

The girl was quite satisfied with this answer—so satisfied, in fact, that she wanted to hit someone.