FFSC_09

Chapter 9: No Dried Sardines — Can the Demon Emperor Get Fat Too?

"Good heavens, it's an immortal..."

Inside Qingzhu City, someone murmured softly.

In this distant lower prefecture, unfamiliar with Tianshu, they thought it was an immortal descended from the heavens.

That Tianshu Sect disciple let his eyelids drop with casual indifference, his gaze falling from above, sweeping right past the street corner where Chen Moqing stood.

Chen Moqing stood still among the crowd, the back of his hand resting against Cang Shun's soft fur.

The Tianshu Sect disciple withdrew his gaze without the slightest ripple of emotion.

A Nascent Soul cultivator who had never before appeared in the Dongzhou Prefecture descended upon Qingzhu City without warning, and more than ten cultivators came rushing in with great fanfare from the west, bowing to him with utmost reverence, calling him "Immortal," and escorted him away.

Those with sharp eyes noticed that the elder leading those cultivators was the Grand Elder of Tingyu Sect—a talisman cultivator at the peak of Golden Core, and the undisputed number one figure of Tingyu Sect—yet before that young sword cultivator, he had bowed and scraped, going to every length to fawn over him.

At the corner of the long street, Cang Shun idly draped a paw over Chen Moqing's wrist.

【What is it, which beloved senior brother of yours is he?】

His voice drifted to Chen Moqing's ears as though utterly indifferent, while he simply strolled along the street and offered no response.

Cang Shun raised an eyebrow and turned his head to one side.

His fluffy ear was suddenly given a gentle flick. The little snow-white beast's body gave a shudder, and with an "meow," he covered his ear and lifted his small head with ruffled indignation.

A slender, fair hand waved before his eyes, holding a wrapped bag of osmanthus cake.

【...I'm not eating that.】

Cang Shun turned his head away again.

Silently pressed the osmanthus cake down under his paw.

A few seconds later, he quietly lowered his head and sniffed at it through the oil paper.

It seemed a little more fragrant than last time.

The little snow-white beast glanced left and right with an air of nonchalance, hugged the osmanthus cake to himself, and after a moment, his slender tail began slowly swaying against Chen Moqing's fingers.

In the days that followed, Qingzhu City was thrown into turmoil by the arrival of that Nascent Soul cultivator—and before the waves had even settled, another boulder came crashing into deep water:

A secret realm was about to manifest near Qingzhu City, and the immortal from the upper prefecture had come precisely for this.

A secret realm, as it was known, was a place where powerful cultivators across the Nine Thousand Prefectures, before dying, would seal away their legacies or treasures, layering them with countless restrictions to form a self-contained world, awaiting the day it would emerge into the open.

Whenever a secret realm appeared, it stirred up a massive tide regardless of its size. Countless cultivators perished within their treacherous depths—yet a rare few lucky ones obtained legacies and treasures, rising to the heavens in a single step.

"The immortal from the upper prefecture has bestowed his grace. The secret realm will be opened to Qingzhu City, and all three parties—you and I, along with the Liu family—may each send a portion of our people to explore it."

Inside the tea room of Qianxuan Pavilion, the Second Elder of Tingyu Sect brought this piece of news.

Bai Yue said, "May I ask, Second Elder, which upper prefecture and which great sect does this generous immortal hail from?"

The Second Elder replied, "We who come from the lower prefectures had best not ask such questions. Whichever sect it may be, it is not one we can afford to provoke."

He then shifted the subject: "I wonder whether Manager Bai has settled on the candidate slots?"

Bai Yue skimmed the foam from her teacup, "There is no rush. This is a matter of great importance. I still need to give it some thought."

The Second Elder of Tingyu Sect stroked his beard with a smile, "You must be waiting for Fellow Daoist Jiang's reply. A talisman cultivator of such exceptional brilliance, if we could invite him to explore the secret realm together, even amid its dangers, it would offer one more layer of assurance."

Bai Yue gave a noncommittal chuckle. The Second Elder chuckled as well. The two exchanged a glance.

—Are you close enough to him to just invite him like that? Do you think he'd even spare you a look?

—Tingyu Sect and Fellow Daoist Jiang came together out of mutual interest, each getting what they need, wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?

Bai Yue let out another vague chuckle, offered a few perfunctory words, and urged him to leave quickly.

The Second Elder, however, played dumb, sitting composed and at ease in his chair. He knew that Fellow Daoist Jiang had been keeping close company with Qianxuan Pavilion lately— if he waited here long enough, the man was bound to show up sooner or later.

In truth, had it not been for that immortal from the upper prefecture, this Fellow Daoist Jiang ought to have been the most talked-about figure in Qingzhu City— to say nothing of a single third-grade talisman having drawn the resonance of Qingzhu City's ancient runes, just the string of talismans of ninety-nine percent quality that had passed through his hands and onto the market in recent days alone was enough to make anyone's eyes burn with envy.

To be able to refine such talismans, one would have to be at least a high-stage Golden Core talisman cultivator—perhaps a talisman prodigy who had come here from another lower prefecture, or even from a middle prefecture. Tingyu Sect had long harbored intentions of befriending him, but unfortunately the man had kept largely to himself, leaving little opportunity to do so.

Suddenly someone came rushing in and bent down to murmur in the Second Elder's ear.

"What!" The Second Elder slapped the table and looked sharply at Bai Yue, "He's gone to the Liu family?!"

Bai Yue: "What!"

Liu Piao stood with her father Liu Ao before the gates of the Liu family estate, and from afar she could already see the young cultivator approaching—clad in a green robe, his bearing as upright as bamboo, dark hair neatly tied up, a silver chain hanging from his hair crown and trailing loose among the ends of his hair at his waist.

"Senior Jiang! Several days ago, a servant of mine had the audacity to offend you. I hope, Senior, that you will not hold it against us in the slightest!"

Liu Ao greeted him as though they were old friends meeting again, laughing heartily, and produced a jade slip containing over ten thousand spirit stones.

"This is a small token of apology from our Liu family. Please, Senior, do us the honor of accepting it."

"Patriarch Liu is too kind."

The pale green hem of Chen Moqing's robe, embroidered with faint patterns of bamboo leaves, shimmered with a bamboo-shadow hue in the soft daylight—and the sleeve of that robe was now seized by Liu Ao's slightly darkened hand, creasing the fabric.

Cang Shun glanced over and, without any ceremony, swatted the hand away with a single paw.

Liu Ao had no time to pull back. He felt a sharp pain across the back of his hand, yet saw no blood. His expression flickered briefly before he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, continuing to converse with easy composure—as though he were not the same man who had tried to force his way into the inn to ambush and kill Chen Moqing that night.

Pavilions, flowing water, and clusters of blooming flowers. At the Liu family banquet, Chen Moqing had been given a seat at the very front, and no small number of gazes kept drifting his way.

Early Foundation Building stage?

No. Someone who could kill Xue Qi at the peak of Foundation Building and refine a third-grade talisman could not possibly be at the Foundation Building stage. He must have concealed his true cultivation level.

Countless eager glances came fluttering over, yet no one dared to approach, held back by the frequent glares from the snow-white demon beast at the young talisman cultivator's side.

At the carved table sat an array of spirit fruits brimming with spiritual energy. Cang Shun had no interest in such fruit and lay idly draped over the edge of the table, his tail hanging loose beside the table leg.

Chen Moqing reached into his storage pouch and produced a small, exquisite cloth satchel. He opened it to reveal a full bag of pepper-salted dried sardines.

He said nothing. Only, under Cang Shun's unwavering stare, set the bag of dried sardines on the table.

A few seconds later, a small white fluffy ball sprouted near the dried sardines, poking its head this way and that.

"The reason I have invited you all here today is to witness a ceremony. I, Liu Ao, have two sons, and today I shall choose one of them to accompany me into the secret realm."

On the platform before the banquet, the Liu family head ascended the stage with his two sons.

Liu Piao stood to the rear right of Liu Ao, and heard Liu Jue, on the left, let out a contemptuous snort, "Big brother has been so long in some backwater. I suppose she still hasn't gotten used to scenes like this."

"True enough," Liu Piao said, eyes fixed calmly ahead, "Now that I'm home, I'll get used to it quickly. But you, little brother, you'll need to get used to me as well."

Her tone was warm and affectionate; she even reached over and patted Liu Jue on the head, every bit the picture of an older sibling looking out for a younger one.

Liu Jue immediately bared his teeth, as though a cockroach had crawled down his collar, yet could not make a scene on the spot.

Liu Ao's expression turned solemn as he produced a heavy treasure box wrought of solid gold, its surface set with countless jewels that caught the light in dazzling flashes.

"This is the greatest heirloom of our Liu family. Whomever the treasure deigns to acknowledge shall have the right to enter the secret realm."

The words had barely fallen before voices erupted in astonished murmurs below: "That's the treasure said to be capable of slaying Nascent Soul cultivators?"

"This..."

Legend had it that decades ago, before the Liu family had yet moved to Qingzhu City, the head of the previous generation had once done a great service for an immortal from the upper provinces and received a treasure as a gift. But as the years passed and no one in the Liu family had ever actually used it, outsiders had come to dismiss it as nothing more than boastful talk.

Now, resting inside the treasure box was a plain, unadorned white sword— utterly unremarkable, without so much as a flicker of spiritual energy.

Liu Jue lifted his gaze to meet Liu Ao's, and felt a warm surge in his chest.

Last night, his father had already told him— this treasure would be his. Together they would enter the secret realm and seize the legacy.

Sooner or later, the Liu family would be his as well.

The corner of Liu Jue's mouth curved upward with a hint of mockery, "Big brother, why don't you go first."

At the banquet, Chen Moqing raised his hand, his palm lightly brushing the fluffy head of the little snow-white beast with a dried sardine clamped in its mouth, his fingers shifting ever so slightly.

Cang Shun looked at him.

What?

Rubbed his head against his palm.

The next second, cries of astonishment rang out one after another, and some people even dropped to their knees and kowtowed, calling out "Immortal".

Cang Shun glanced over idly, then turned back to Chen Moqing.

Chen Moqing sat composed and unmoving, calmly pinching a dried sardine between his fingers and giving it a little wave.

Up on the high platform, amid the disbelieving stares of Liu Jue and Liu Ao, Liu Piao stood in a daze, both hands cupped upward.

— The pure-white sword that had been lying still in the treasure box suddenly shot into the air and, before the eyes of all present, circled around Liu Piao three times before coming to a steady halt, standing upright before her.

In that moment, an awe-inspiring pressure beyond imagination burst forth from within the blade and surged straight toward the heavens. The vast sea of clouds over all of Qingzhu City was swept clean in an instant— smooth as a mirror's surface, reflecting back the thousands upon thousands of eyes gazing upward from below.

Liu Ao and Liu Jue, standing closest, could not withstand such pressure at all. They stumbled and collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat.

—A mid-Nascent Soul stage magic treasure!

Within Liu Piao's wide-open eyes, the reflection of an unsheathed sword appeared— its blade pure white, pointing straight at the heavens.

Her spiritual sea was struck by a sudden, violent surge, her vision blurred, and an image rose before her—

A sea of forest trees surged and rolled; river tides rose and fell. A sword cultivator stood atop a great river, robes drifting in the wind, tall and slender, features indistinct.

"Long ago you showed me kindness with a single pill of medicine. Today I leave you a sword, only one of your Liu family's descendants who carries goodwill in their heart may wield it."

The green-robed sword cultivator turned and departed, robes sweeping across the surface of the great river. An old man prostrated himself on the riverbank, calling out "Immortal".

The immortal touched his head and bestowed upon him a sword.

The Liu family's greatest heirloom— it was the sword intent left behind by an immortal!

...

Tingyu Sect.

Atop a solitary peak, a handsome young man who appeared no older than twenty-five or twenty-six sat quietly in meditation, then suddenly opened his eyes.

"Nascent Soul sword intent?"

After a moment, he slowly closed them again.

"Hmph. Nothing more than an impure strand of sword intent."

Behind the man, a white-bearded elder stood with his head bowed in silence, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Had any other members of Tingyu Sect been present, they would have been shocked to recognize him as their sect's Grand Elder— a figure who stood above ten thousand within the sect. And the one whom even the Grand Elder of Tingyu Sect personally waited upon could only be that Nascent Soul sword cultivator who had come from the upper prefecture.

"By the way, did you secretly contact your parent sect yesterday?"

The moment those words fell, cold sweat immediately broke out across the Grand Elder's forehead, "Immortal, whatever do you mean! Every last one of us in the sect follows only your lead—"

His trembling words were cut off by the sword cultivator, who had no patience for them, "There is no need to wait for your parent sect's reply. As far back as two years ago, the Nine-Domain Star-Fixing Sundial of Shenlu Sect had already calculated that a talisman cultivation secret realm would manifest here."

The Grand Elder was struck speechless.

"Surely it is quite puzzling. Tianshu Sect is the foremost sword sect in the world, so why would this talisman cultivation secret realm fall to us?"

The Grand Elder replied, "No, no, I would not dare to find it puzzling..."

"......"

"Puzzling! This lowly one finds it truly puzzling! Please, Immortal, grant me your enlightenment!!"

The sword cultivator let out a scornful laugh, "In the battle of the Demon Abyss years ago, the good-for-nothing young master of Shenlu Sect became trapped within the Demonic Blood Slaughter Formation and nearly lost his life. It was our eldest senior brother who pulled him out—and in doing so suffered grave injuries himself, nearly dropping a cultivation stage."

"For the hundred years that followed, every talisman cultivation secret realm to manifest in the world would go to Tianshu—that is Shenlu Sect's compensation."

The 'eldest senior brother' he spoke of was, naturally, the foremost disciple of the sect master of Tianshu Sect in those days—the pinnacle of the sword path who stood above every genius of the younger generation across the Nine Thousand Prefectures.

It was said that before he had been tainted by demonic energy and began killing indiscriminately, because his seniority was the highest, even though he was the youngest among the disciples of his generation, the others—every one of them years his elder—still called him 'eldest senior brother'.

"You talisman cultivators are nothing but good-for-nothings hiding behind sword cultivators."

The sword cultivator's voice was cold as a drawn blade.

"Get out."

The Grand Elder fled in a panic.

Atop a green mountain peak, a sea of clouds surged and billowed. Murong Zhou took out a blood-stained scrap of cloth and pressed it to his nose and mouth.

It was a corner torn from a robe sleeve, embroidered with a pattern of crane feathers and drifting clouds.

The most devastating battle of the Demon-Suppression War—in which countless demonic creatures sacrificed themselves to summon the long-lost Demonic Blood Slaughter of the Wasteland Formation, staining ten thousand li of mountains and rivers with blood, leaving corpses strewn across several prefectures, and even Body Integration stage cultivators perishing within it.

A host of cultivators joined forces in an attempt to break the formation, yet were powerless to do so. All they could do was watch with eyes splitting in anguish as friends, family, and fellow sect members were swallowed by the slaughter formation, reduced to pools of blood and mud.

Then, suddenly, a sword came from the vault of heaven. Its sword energy swept across the Nine Thousand Prefectures; its sword light shone long upon that blood-drenched night.

The Myriad Phenomena of All Heavens Formation!

That night, the foremost sword cultivator of the younger generation burned his own essence blood, offering his entire cultivation as sacrifice, and crossed in a single step from the peak of Deity Transformation all the way to Void Refinement—shattering the Demonic Blood Slaughter of the Wasteland with the Myriad Phenomena of All Heavens!

Murong Zhou buried his nose and mouth in the scrap of robe sleeve, drawing a long, involuntary breath.

He was no more than an outer sect disciple of Tianshu Sect—he had no business setting foot on a battlefield like that. And besides, every time the demonic creatures came, his eldest senior brother had always shielded them well—so very well.

Every time, all he could ever make out was that upright, unfaltering silhouette standing with sword in hand.

Only once—just that once—had he ever been that close to his eldest senior brother. It was on that very day.

That day, eldest senior brother had returned to the sect alone—the corners of his eyes red, his robes stained with blood, his spirit lost and adrift, bearing none of the composure he wore in ordinary times.

Murong Zhou had gone forward to receive him, and seizing a moment when his guard was down, thrust his sword at his chest—

The strike went wide, barely grazing the senior brother's robe, slicing off only a corner of the sleeve.

He had not died, because behind him stood the entirety of Tianshu Sect, with eyes wide open.

On that day, Chen Moqing, foremost disciple of the Tianshu Sect master, fell to the demonic path and was cast out by his own sect.

Murong Zhou pressed the tattered sleeve to his face with near-frantic hunger, inhaling deeply, his cheek rubbing again and again over the embroidered pattern of crane feathers and drifting clouds, his eyes blazing as though on fire, an unnatural flush rising across his face.

"Senior Brother..."

He mouthed the words one syllable at a time, as though he wanted to tear them apart and swallow them down whole, over and over again.

...

A small, pure-white sword drifted idly between slender, slightly curved fingers.

The Nascent Soul magic treasure that had moments ago sent sword energy surging to the heavens and shaken all of Qingzhu City—now lay in Chen Moqing's hand, docile as a swimming fish.

Cang Shun wandered a circle around Chen Moqing's hand, his gaze settling on his fingers.

【Decades ago, peak Nascent Soul?】

Chen Moqing did not answer.

Cang Shun flopped directly onto his wrist: 【Peak Nascent Soul before fifty, unheard of.】

Fifty years— for a cultivator, no more than a young child still in braids.

A Nascent Soul cultivator at three hundred years of age could already be called a brilliant young talent, with a bright path ahead.

The Nascent Soul sword cultivator who had appeared in Qingzhu City just days ago— he had seen through his spirit aspect in a single glance. He was already over two hundred years old.

【So—】

Cang Shun pressed a paw down on Chen Moqing's finger.

【You are a sword cultivator.】

Chen Moqing lowered his eyes, "Does the Demon Emperor have a fondness for sword cultivators?"

【I despise sword cultivators above all else.】

Chen Moqing raised his eyes, "Oh."

And nothing more followed.

Cang Shun stared at this sword cultivator.

Who had also deceived him into thinking he was a talisman cultivator.

Outrageous.

【With such heavenly aptitude, no wonder both Heaven and mans resent you.】

"The Demon Emperor's aptitude is even more unfathomable."

【I am different from you. I am a great demon born of the Primordial Void, inheriting the fortune of the Heavenly Dao from birth.】

Cang Shun said this without any particular concern.

【Were I of the human race, I might not necessarily match you.】

Chen Moqing: "The Demon Emperor jokes, Jiang is no more than a Foundation Building cultivator."

Cang Shun swatted the back of his hand with a paw.

Chen Moqing poked at that pair of soft, fluffy ears.

The little snow-white beast gave another rapid shudder, eyes going round and wide as it glared at him—seemingly wanting to unleash a torrent of abuse, yet not quite knowing how to go about it.

It huffed indignantly and leapt up onto the table, covering its ears, putting distance between itself and that insufferable sword cultivator.

—About three feet of distance, to be precise.

With a thought, Chen Moqing sent the short sword flying off, carrying his voice transmission back to Liu Piao.

"At most three days, a secret realm will manifest here."

He reached out and stroked the fluffy back of a certain Demon Emperor.

"Your Majesty the Demon Emperor may rest easy. I will not die."

Cang Shun held his head high and turned his face pointedly to one side.

【What does that have to do with me– I won't be worrying about you!】

Chen Moqing smiled faintly and took out a stack of talisman paper.

After a moment, Cang Shun turned his head back and looked at the side of his face, intent and focused as he refined talismans.

【You knew all along that a secret realm would appear here. You also knew that former sect mates of yours would come.】

【From the very beginning, your reason for coming to Qingzhu City was the Liu family's treasure— to lie in wait, and to cut down your enemy with blood.】

"He alone is not worth such scheming on my part," Chen Moqing's melodious voice carried not the slightest ripple of emotion, "I am here to obtain the talisman path legacy. Killing him is merely incidental."

Cang Shun was quiet for a moment, then walked over with an air of nonchalance and gently pressed a paw over his hand.

【Too much killing... when the time comes to form your Golden Core, the inner demons may prove impossible to purge.】

Chen Moqing lowered his eyes slightly, meeting that pair of crimson demon pupils.

"Then I will enter the path through slaughter, and end the bloodshed with blood."

Cang Shun fell silent.

...Fine.

At worst, when that day came, he would simply watch over his himself.

Come evening, the inn delivered as usual— a braised fresh fish and a dish of asparagus fish soup.

Half an hour later, the inn attendant came to collect the empty plates and left behind a basket of freshly fried dried sardines.

Cang Shun, who had just let out a satisfied burp, cast a glance at the dried sardines, then ambled over to Chen Moqing's side where he sat cultivating with eyes closed. He plopped down onto his lap with a thud, arched his fluffy back in a long, leisurely stretch, and lifted a paw to bat at the hem of his robe.

A calm voice descended from above his head: "After the hour of xu*, no more dried sardines."

*t/n; around 7 PM – 9 PM.

Cang Shun's tail shot straight up: 【On what grounds!】

No, wait—

【I don't even want to eat them!】

Chen Moqing opened his eyes, scooped up the small fluffy ball, and bounced him lightly in the air a couple of times.

"Mimi, you've gotten fat."

Cang Shun: 【???】

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