Chapter 105: Chu San Takes a Master
Chapter 105: Chu San Takes a Master
Led by Jing Wushuang, Mu Feng quickly arrived before Ghost Mother.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or something else, but the Yinfeng Cave felt colder and gloomier than usual. Ghost Mother sat high above, a faint smirk playing on her lips that gave off a deeply unsettling feeling.
“Mu Feng, do you want to save your brother, Sky Splitting Tiger?”
Ghost Mother gave Mu Feng a meaningful glance, her tone flat.
“Yes!”
Mu Feng answered instantly.
Though he had no idea what scheme this old witch Ghost Mother was plotting, as long as it meant saving Sky Splitting Tiger, he wouldn’t hesitate any more than Jing Wushuang did.
Seeing no hesitation at all, Ghost Mother nodded. “Good. And do you want to break through your bottleneck quickly, to improve your training speed?”
“Yes!”
Mu Feng nodded firmly. Watching Ghost Mother’s deliberately mysterious air, his confusion deepened.
In three years, it would be his life-or-death battle with Mu Tie. By then, no one could help him. His success would rely only on his own hard work and struggle!
Right now, he was at the Middle Mortal Realm. Mu Tie was at the Mortal Realm Peak, two tiers higher. Where would they both be in three years?
He would progress, but so would Mu Tie. And as the Chief Transmission Disciple, successor to the Heartless Sword Dao, Mu Tie’s advantages and resources in cultivation were extraordinary, unmatched. He was already at Mortal Realm Peak now; what level would he reach after three more years?
Just thinking about this powerful enemy, Mu Feng, felt a powerful thirst for greater strength!
Faced with Ghost Mother’s question, he truly felt no hesitation and saw no need to hide it.
“Good. There is a way right now that can both save your brother Sky Splitting Tiger and let you rapidly increase your strength. But it’s full of dangers. You might set out and never return. Are you afraid?” Ghost Mother smiled faintly, coldly looking down at the tall, straight figure of Mu Feng below her. She seemed to hold all the cards, as if she understood everything and held the world in her palm.
“No!”
Mu Feng remained calm, looking back at Ghost Mother seated above him. “The ancients said, a gentleman stands firm, striving tirelessly. Mu Feng lost his father young, his family was poor. If I feared everything, I might have starved on the streets long ago. Granny, whatever it is, please order me directly!”
“Good, well spoke! ‘A gentleman stands firm, striving tirelessly’!”
Ghost Mother suddenly stood up, her gaze sharp. She took out paper and pen from under the table and swiftly wrote several large characters.
She folded the paper, wrapped it tightly in layers of oilcloth. “Mu Feng, take this letter, escort Shuang’er on this journey. There’s no time to delay; leave early tomorrow morning. Don’t ask questions; I’ve already told Shuang’er all the reasons. Anything you don’t know, ask her on the way. Remember, when you reach Poison Sect, pay my respects to its Sect Master—my senior apprentice sister! Keep this Jade Pupil Tube safe. It’s the fourth variation of the Yinfeng Formation, the ‘Devour’ formula. Train well with it. Protect Shuang’er along the way!”
Poison Sect?
Mu Feng’s heart lurched. He caught the bundle of oilcloth and the Jade Pupil Tube that Ghost Mother threw to him, his mind brimming with questions. But Ghost Mother had already closed her eyes. Waves of Yin Wind blew forward, forcing him to pick up the unconscious Sky Splitting Tiger and retreat with Jing Wushuang, returning to the Mu Manor at the foot of the mountain.
“Hahaha! Wretch! Murong Bi, you wretch! This time, let’s see how you fight me! See how you die! Hahaha, hahaha…”
Watching Mu Feng and Jing Wushuang’s retreating backs, Ghost Mother, seated high above, suddenly opened her eyes and began to laugh wildly, her face twisted and fierce. Laughing turned to weeping, then back to laughter, her state utterly mad.
While Ghost Mother raged like a madwoman in Yinfeng Cave, Mu Feng and Jing Wushuang had reached the top of a tall ridge overlooking Jianning City in the valley below. On the journey, Jing Wushuang had explained things to him, gradually clarifying what was happening. She avoided mentioning the core secret, only telling him they must travel thousands of miles to Jianshui and seek an audience with the Poison Sect Master.
“The Yang Soul Pill, raising the dead… If such a good pill really existed, how easy could it be to get?”
Recalling the cruel smirk that had flashed across Ghost Mother’s face, Mu Feng’s own expression darkened. A feeling of ominous foreboding lingered. He always felt this old witch Ghost Mother harbored ill intentions. But no matter how much he thought it over, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the problem was. “Shuang’er, how about… you don’t come? Stay at Mu Manor, look after Big Brother and my mother. I’ll go alone to the mountains around Jianshui to seek the Poison Sect Master.”
“Males aren’t permitted near Poison Sect’s mountain gates, Mu Feng-gege. You alone would never get past the entrance. It’s fine. Really. The Poison Sect Master is Ghost Mother Granny’s senior apprentice sister. She definitely won’t hurt us.”
Jing Wushuang forced a small smile, hoping to ease Mu Feng’s worries.
Outwardly composed, her heart ached silently. Looking at Mu Feng beside her, she suddenly felt tears prick her eyes.
According to Ghost Mother, the journey itself held little danger, but she would likely have to remain forever deep in the mountains west of Jianshui, never to leave again. These days on the road might well be the last time she spent by Mu Feng’s side.
“It’s best if nothing’s wrong. Shuang’er, no matter what happens, remember to stay behind me! Challenges come, we stand our ground; troubles arise, we find solutions. After weathering so many storms, there’s nothing left to fear!”
Mu Feng took a deep breath. He glanced at distant Jianning City and began striding down the mountainside.
“Mm!”
Behind him, Jing Wushuang gave a soft reply in the darkness, hoisting the small figure of Chu San onto her back to follow.
Unlike the continuously comatose Sky Splitting Tiger, though Chu San had lost both arms and his face was hideously scarred by knife wounds, he wasn’t in danger of dying after being bandaged. Rest would heal him. His vacant expression stemmed purely from the deep trauma of watching his mother burned alive before his eyes.
For such a wound, no medicine helped. Only time could slowly ease the agony in his young heart.
As he walked, Mu Feng stopped now and then to wait for Jing Wushuang behind him. Halfway down, he found a valley for them to rest. He brought clear water for the three of them to drink and wash. By the time they returned to Mu Manor at the mountain’s base, lanterns were already lit and night had fallen.
Seeing Mu Feng suddenly arrive with Jing Wushuang and two severely injured strangers, his mother, Situ Qing, immediately struggled up from her bed to offer them tea and water, coughing constantly but refusing their pleas for her to rest. Only after she’d helped all three settle into beds did she finally drag her own exhausted body back to her pallet. She stared at her son standing before the bed in prolonged silence.
“Mother, I’m sorry. I caused trouble again… I didn’t make it to Jiangling Prefecture…”
Looking at his mother’s increasing pallor and fatigue, Mu Feng felt deep shame.
“No, Feng’er, you are not wrong. I heard about what happened. If we’d just shrunk back and hidden like cowards, letting that bully Mu Qingyuan kill and burn at will, that would be a true mistake!”
Situ Qing coughed again. After catching her breath, she continued slowly, “You’ve grown up, Feng’er. Your mother can’t help you anymore. Remember, no matter what happens, don’t waste your thoughts on regret or hate. Think instead about how to face it. This time, thank goodness Zuinü stepped in. Honestly, for years now, the old master has secretly watched over us mother and son. Without his help, we might have been expelled from Mu Manor long ago. On the table outside, there’s some embroidery I made just for him. Take it to the cottage where the Family Patriarch lives, and thank him directly!”
“Yes, Mother!”
Mu Feng bowed and withdrew. He found the embroidery his mother mentioned and stepped outside. He had just prepared to go express his thanks in person to Zuinü to whom he owed his life when, in the dim moonlight, he suddenly spotted someone kneeling before his door. The figure was skinny, its sleeves empty. It was Chu San, who had been vacant and still, somehow having crawled out of bed.
“Chu San? What are you doing? Get up!” Mu Feng started, worried the boy might have come to harm himself. He rushed forward to help him up.
“Master Mu Feng,” the young boy’s voice was filled with determination. “I want to train! I want to cultivate! Please, take me as your disciple!”
As he spoke, Chu San pressed his forehead to the ground with a heavy thud, kowtowing deeply to Mu Feng.