Unseen Immortal of Three Hundred Years

Translator’s note: Sorry for taking so long everyone, the past few weeks have been extremely busy for me and I wasn’t able to release any chapters; my sincere apologies. I will begin to release at least a chapter every week from now on. Thank you for understanding, and enjoy this chapter 🙂

——————————–

The handful of people from Feng Sect had never, ever thought that they’d hear such a statement.

These years, the world was in chaos. Amidst the chaotic world, Falling Flower Mountain Market was able to maintain a lively landscape such as this all because of the Feng Sect’s protection.

Therefore, upon seeing them, people in the mountain market would always treat them with the utmost respect. 

When devils see them, especially when they see the word "Feng" on their swords, they would all reveal a look of fear, some of them turning to escape on the spot.

Today was truly their first encounter with someone like this.

Today was truly their first encounter with someone like this. Upon seeing the "Feng" swords, this devil acted unmoved like it was nothing, and the first words he let out weren’t actually raring for a fight, but barking orders at them.

Now this was some bullshit!

The young woman was tongue-tied, unsure of how to respond. After a moment’s shock, her apricot eyes widened: “What filthy place did a thi… man such as you crawl out of, to speak with such arrogance!"

She’d originally planned to speak more fiercely, but this devil carried an ineffable air of nobility. When facing such a person, she was in fact unable to let out such coarse words. 

But this didn’t stop her from raising her sword—

Just as the words threatening the devil landed, the other several Feng Sect disciples simultaneously drew the longswords at their waists! 

SHIING!

A number of metallic clangs rang out. Those longswords, carrying sword aura, had already turned into sharp points headed for Wu Xingxuel

The next moment, his silhouette was gone—the sword aura ran through, but didn’t strike that devil, just went straight through the bed behind him. 

A series of wood cracking sounds arose, and splinters burst out. 

Beside the table, the innkeeper leaped up in terror and scrambled a few paces behind a Feng Sect disciple for protection.

Just after he moved, he heard a heavy rumbling sound. 

The once-fine bed, having had its four legs chopped off, collapsed to the floor into a pile of ruined wood. 

The Feng Sect crowd was stunned.

"Where is he?!" they blurted out—surprisingly, they actually heard a reply.

"Looking for me?"

The voice came from behind.

All their figures froze, suddenly turning their heads. They saw that the devil had at some point flashed among them.

He was standing behind an unfortunate disciple, clasping that disciple’s wrist and forcing him to hold the sword up toward himself, its edge pressed against his own neck. 

"You—" The disciple looked tense, his complexion a greenish, ghastly white. Veins popped out on the back of his hand. 

He tried his hardest to match the strength of the hand clasping his wrist, but his efforts were in vain.

Only to hear that foul devil’s soft, irreverent voice: "Someone doesn’t want me to make too great a disturbance, so I can only make it like this. In fact, it would have been somewhat better to capture the one in charge, but your leader is a young lady, and carelessly raising my hand against her would ruin my reputation as a fine gentleman. Sorry, but you’ll have to be the alternative.”

"……"

He spoke very conscientiously, but the disciple nearly coughed blood. 

These words also landed with another layer of meaning: I could capture any one of you, it just depends on who I pick. 

The disciples’ faces sank at this provocation, about to lift their swords again. But, they heard a muffled groan as the captured disciple’s sword edge neared closer a hair, pressing a shallow mark into his neck. 

"No one move!" the young woman shouted. 

Everyone gripped their swords tightly, no longer daring to move.

The sword on that disciple’s neck stopped in place, no longer pressing inward.

The innkeeper hesitated a moment, then quietly shuffled a few paces back beside the table. 

Staring at the sword’s edge, the young woman finally opened her mouth after a moment: ‘When we came in, you said you wanted to find someone?"

"Yep."

The young woman’s elegant brows furrowed, looking at Wu Xingxue with a puzzled expression. After a beat, her gaze shifted to the innkeeper. She spoke in a low voice: "What in the world is going on? Shouldn’t it be like the previous disasters?" 

The innkeeper wore a face of bitter suffering: "It is…"

The young woman again glanced at Wu Xingxue, then back at the innkeeper: "Then who are we to find? Shouldn’t the missing person have—"

The innkeeper waved his hands back and forth: "Don’t say it, don’t say it! miss cultivation lady, if he w-wants us to search then let’s just search." 

The young woman was still somewhat unreconciled, and turned to stare down Wu Xingxue, "You seem very strong, with the attitude that none of us can harm you. But even so, why would you go to the extent of asking us for help?"

Her gaze shifted. As though working out any weak points, she said: "So why is that? Just finding someone should be easy to do on your own. I think… Don’t tell me it’s because there’s a restriction on your body? A wound? Is it that you’re at the end of your rope right now, so you’re using a trick to scare us with your might?" 

They’d encountered plenty of bluffing devils. Thus, these words sounded more and more reasonable.

A few disciples tightened their sword grips once again, striving to look for the weak points on Wu Xingxue’s body, only to hear him say: "Well, no."

Deep black eyes fixed on them, the devil said: "It’s because all I know is killing. I’m not very good at anything else."

Everyone: "……"

Wu Xingxue was just telling the truth, but to others, it sounded like a threat. Moreover, it was a threat through and through; paired with those eyes, it really didn’t appear to be a bluff. 

The innkeeper frantically shot them a look, but the Feng Sect disciples were still at an impasse.

They watched as Wu Xingxue frowned, expressing a hint of impatience. The young woman said: "Okay, we’ll search." 

She fished out a few Feng sect-emblazoned talismans from her chest. Disinclined to ask for a brush and cinnabar ink, she swiped a finger along her sword’s edge. Holding up the droplet of blood, she asked: "What’s the name of the person you’re looking for?" 

When they’d entered the inn, the innkeeper had asked the guests to enter each person’s name into the registration booklet. He thought back to the names these two had first put down upon entering, just about to answer.

But he heard Wu Xingxue say: "Xiao Fuxuan."

The innkeeper shut his mouth: "?"

The Feng family disciples, however, opened their mouths: "???"

The inn went quiet.

After a beat, the innkeeper faltered: "Ah?" 

He then said: "That’s not the name you put when you entered though… Isn’t… isn’t this name Tianxiu Immortal’s…? Uhhh…"

As he trailed off, his expression was downright astonished. 

That was actually quite expected. Anyone who’d heard that the Tianxiu Immortal had stayed in their own inn for two nights would likely have this expression.

But for just a second, within his shock there flashed a hint of something else. It swiftly came and went, so fast it was like it hadn’t appeared at all.

But Wu Xingxue caught it.  

It seemed to be… excitement?

But it didn’t quite look like happiness exactly. His eyes were more like glazed beads blinded by dust for a long time, suddenly catching the light, gathering consciousness. 

Thinking back, Wu Xingxue thought that expression was actually somewhat familiar—just like back at the Hua Sect, that moment when Yi Wusheng was tugging at his robe and saying "Save me" to him.

Could it be that this innkeeper had been possessed by a devil, and just momentarily exposed his original soul upon hearing "Tianxiu Immortal?"

No, not quite. Besides, there wasn’t a trace of devilish energy on his body.

Then what was it?

Wu Xingxue thought.

He thought back to the words the innkeeper had said before, and suddenly discovered a very slight discrepancy—

He thought back to the words the innkeeper had said before, and suddenly discovered a very slight discrepancy—The innkeeper said, after the inn’s incident with the scholar and page boy, he’d recalled the cultivation sect people’s counsel, and thought that his inn really seemed to be cursed ground, that every can of ground seemed permeated with abnormality. He’d even had recurring nightmares, and couldn’t sleep the night through.

Hence, he’d gone to ask the immortal sect for help.

At first, this account didn’t seem like much, but now it was a bit strange.

If he couldn’t eat or rest in peace, couldn’t sleep the night though, then why wouldn’t he have just moved? He was fine putting a horrifying coffin in his inn and keeping a corpse that could go out of control whenever, but had never thought of moving.

Why?

Is it because he didn’t want to move? Or because he couldn’t?

Was he loath to depart from this place? Or was he unable to leave this place for some reason? 

Wu Xingxue narrowed his eyes.

***

In the blink of his eyes, the innkeeper felt a chill wind sweeping up from behind his neck. Immediately after, the hair-splittingly sharp blade touched down on his neck. 

Having just been restraining a Feng Sect disciple, Wu Xingxue was now already behind him, fast as a specter.

He heard Wu Xingxue asking him in a whisper: "Afraid of this place, yet didn’t leave… What are you guarding here?" 

This question was like a slit cut into a sealed pouch.

The innkeeper’s expression momentarily brightened, and his entire body trembled, like he’d suddenly awoken from a long dream.

His trembling eyelids opened, as though agonizingly trying to say something, but again pursed his lips and shook his head with difficulty. It was just like he wanted to speak, but was bound by something and couldn’t speak, that he even had to deny it and express the opposite meaning. 

This reaction was truly strange, but confirmed Wu Xingxue’s guess.

When he first listened to the innkeeper’s long-winded story, he’d thought that the other party was just naturally talkative. Both the little girl eating her father and the young master eating his page boy could certainly be explained clearly in just a few words, yet the innkeeper had to detour and start off with "jade essence appearing in the backyard." 

Now it appeared that he’d been doing his utmost to say what the constraints allowed him, trying to make his audience understand the implicit hidden meaning—this place is abnormal, but I can’t leave. 

Wu Xingxue again asked: "Are you guarding a thing, or a place? 

‘Who had you guard it? 

"And…"

Will Xiao Fuxuan be there…

The innkeeper again struggled to open his mouth. 

Perhaps these days, he’d told the same rambling story to plenty of people, but his audience would either feel panic or fear, never thinking deeper. 

Now, he finally encountered someone who let out this question, so no matter how, he had to say more.

In an extremely ragged voice, the innkeeper pried open his mouth, and asked Wu Xingxue the following: "Do you know… why this place is called… Falling Flower Terrace…?" 

Wu Xingxue was struck by this, as a phrase flashed across his mind: 

[Do you know why that place is called Falling Flower Terrace?]

***

It was a certain long night in Xiandu.

Still the Spirit King, Wu Xingxue had returned to Seated Spring Breeze after finishing up some tasks and made arrangements for his two chirping and twittering servant boys. Holding a nice jug of fine wine, he climbed up to the high eaves of his jade palace.

A white mist floated about the eaves’ edges. Leaning a leg against it, he looked like he was sitting upon the fringe of a roaming cloud.

He drank three cups of wine. With a somewhat languid sleepiness, he lay back with his elbow as a pillow, handily puffing on his ever-present mask.

But it turned out that before long, he heard movement upon the jade eaves, like another person was approaching. 

The footsteps walked over from the other end of the jade eave and stopped beside him. 

After a while, his mask was lifted a little by the other person. It wasn’t lifted all the way, only revealing a corner of the chin underneath. 

Then, Xiao Fuxuan’s voice emanated in the night’s dim: "You drank my wine."

The upper half of Wu Xingxue’s face was still covered in the mask. Inclined to neither move nor open his eyes, he drawled out a response: "You make no sense whatsoever. This fine wine of mine amounts to three jugs, two of which were mine, one of which was made from your place. How would you know which jug I drank" 

Xiao Fuxuan replied: "I can smell it." 

Xiandu’s night breeze tickled his ears as it swept past. The mask was also a bit annoying; Wu Xingxue narrowed his eyes. 

He supported himself up, lifted his mask, and hefted the wine jug up to the person beside him: "Here you go."

Xiao Fuxuan didn’t take it, saying: "Next time return it to me in full."

Wu Xingxue gave him a look, drumming his fingers on the jade eaves. The two servant boys diligently ran out and stood below the roof with their faces craning up to shout: "Mister, what is your command?"

Wu Xingxue answered them: "Fetch another jug of the fine wine for me; Tianxiu is making me return it to him."

The two little boys put their hands in their sleeves, uniformly turning their sights onto Xiao Fuxuan. Worthy of their lord’s rearing, they said: “Tianxiu is so stingy."

 Wu Xingxue laughed right on his propped legs.

Xiao Fuxuan lowered his gaze to look at those two kids, stating assertively: "Were I more generous, my Southern Window’s Shadow1the name of Xiao Fuxuan’s Xiandu residence would be cleaned out by him." 

"……"

The little boys recognized their wrong and ran away without retort. 

Based on the argument that he’d still return half the jug, Wu Xingxue stubbornly poured three cups for Xiao Fuxuan. 

After Xiao Fuxuan knocked them back, however, he saw Wu Xingxue pointing to a certain mountainous terrain in the mortal realm below Xiandu, saying: "It looks like Falling Flower Terrace is lit up, is it the third day of the third month?"

Xiao Fuxuan: "You mean the mortal realm’s calendar?"

Wu Xingxue replied: "Mm, should be. That mountain market lights lanterns on the third day of the third month when the market opens. It’s quite lively, I’ll occasionally go down and look around."

Xiao Fuxuan looked toward that expanse of faintly visible lights Lingwang pointed down at. He had some impression of that place; he’d once inadvertently entered that mountain range, but it wasn’t the season at the time, so he hadn’t seen the mountain market. 

Wu Xingxue looked awhile, then said: "Do you know why that place is called Falling Flower Terrace?"

Xiao Fuxuan turned to look at him: "…Why?"

Wu Xingxue said: "Long, long ago, there was a divine arbor there, before Lingtai. The place where it grew is a font of jade essence, and when it blossomed, the flowers fell across the entire mountain. So, it was called Falling Flower Terrace, and there are still some remnants of jade essence there now."

Plenty of deities had heard something about the divine arbor, but what they knew was scant. Some legends said that the divine arbor had the ability to return things to life after death, and some legends said that was untrue. The only commonality among the legends was, after Lingtai had emerged, the divine arbor was all gone, as though it had never existed.

Later on, the people were often puzzled as to how a place with few flowering trees, which later held a well-known mountain market, could be called "Falling Flower Terrace." 

Xiao Fuxuan glanced at Wu Xingxue, asking: "Then how would you know of Falling Flower Terrace’s origin?"

Wu Xingxue said: "I was born there.”

***

Because of the innkeeper’s one statement, Wu Xingxue recalled various scraps related to Falling Flower Terrace, and reconnected them to that newly springing jade essence in the inn’s backyard… 

He immediately knew what this place was guarding, and also knew where Xiao Fuxuan was.

Perhaps it wasn’t really that that divine arbor didn’t exist, but that for some reason, it had been sealed away by Lingtai Heavenly Law. 

He didn’t know what had brought Xiao Fuxuan there; he only knew that now he also wanted to go in, and had to search for the entrance to that forbidden ground. 

Wu Xingxue suddenly raised his eyes and asked the innkeeper: "Where was the crack in the rock where the jade branch appeared?"

Since jade essence was related to the divine arbor, looking around for the jade branch’s new growth couldn’t be a bad start.

The innkeeper dryly said: "In the courtyard."

This inn’s courtyard was built along the mountain and divided into three levels which wound into a semicircle enwrapping the inn.

On one level, a well had been drilled and an awning built, all made of mountain rock. On the other two levels were planted trees for abundance and luck, and below the trees were more mountain rocks.

The courtyard was chock-full of rocks and stone slabs, as well as cracked rocks.

But what he sought was a most precise place. After all, if the forbidden area wasn’t to be perceived, its entrance would assuredly not be large. 

Wu Xingxue scanned around, asking the innkeeper: "Where is the cracked rock?" 

The innkeeper stretched out a finger to the left. Wu Xingxue looked in the direction he pointed, but then up and turned to walk the other way, in the exact opposite direction.

The innkeeper: “…"

Since it was a forbidden area, and since the innkeeper had constraints placed on him, he wouldn’t be permitted to say anything. As such, he was sure to point to the wrong place.

The wrong place would assuredly be as far away from the true place as possible. So, although the innkeeper couldn’t speak directly, Wu Xingxue could work out his reasoning. 

He walked for a distance, then asked the innkeeper again. 

This time the innkeeper had wised up, and pointed toward the southeast.

He’d originally thought that the other party would contrarily probe around the northwest, but as a result, Wu Xingxue believed him this time. Without turning, he walked straight to the southeastern direction he pointed to.

The innkeeper: “…"

They went like this over and over again. Whatever the innkeeper couldn’t do, Wu Xingxue would grasp with great accuracy. 

In the end, he stood next to an extremely unremarkable pile of rocks.

It looked like a courtyard wall that had suffered frequent erosion from wind and rain; rocks fell and piled up messily in a corner without any custodial care taken. It was even crawling with moss and lichens, camouflaging the little crack. 

Wu Xingxue lifted a hand to feel over that broken-down wall. He turned his head to ask those Feng family disciples: "Fellows, how might one make an opening out of thin air? But without too much noise." 

The Feng Sect disciples gaped at one another. They appeared to still be digesting the impact of the missing person being Xiao Fuxuan, and were a bit absent-minded. 

Especially that young lady in the lead. Taking a few slips of soul-seeking talismans in hand, she hadn’t even had the time to write down Xiao Fuxuan’s name before it was rendered unnecessary. 

Hearing Wu Xingxue’s question, she was dazed for a moment before recovering to say: "We can try, but what if it doesn’t open?"

Wu Xingxue looked at them, saying: "Then I’ll just have to try using more and more noisy tactics."

Just wrench it open and closed, and manipulate the illusion realm when it was about to crumble apart. Whatever places remained firm and stable would likely be the most suspicious.

The more Wu Xingxue thought about it, the more he felt that it could work, and was about to take prompt action.

At that moment, Falling Flower Mountain Market’s lofty, remote night abruptly swelled with heavy clouds like mad. Lightning and thunder cracked, and even that half-collapsed courtyard wall began to violently tremble like teeth chattering out of control in extreme cold. 

Wu Xingxue’s icy pale fingers had already begun to crook.

He mobilized all the impetus within him and was just about to let it rush madly forth, when he felt a hand stretching out from the mountain fog to grip his.

He spoke dazedly: "Xiao Fuxuan?"

The next moment, his rigidly bent fingers loosened up. 

A thick fog slammed him in the face—he was tugged by that hand into the forbidden ground.  

• 1the name of Xiao Fuxuan’s Xiandu residence