A Small Pearl Falls on a Jade Plate

If one were to ask which pleasure house in Maple Forest City was the most intoxicating, connoisseurs of such matters would only give one answer—the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion.

Not a brothel of merely three parts charm, but the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion, which claimed three parts of the world's fragrance for itself.

Even if it was only a branch pavilion.

But from the day it opened, it swept through Maple Forest City's mediocre flower-and-willow market like a storm, crushing all before it.

Now the young masters of Maple Forest City could enjoy their romantic dalliances, all thanks to the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion's elevation of the professional standards of the city's singing girls and courtesans.

Comparable to how the fifth-rank grandmaster Dong A had raised the educational level of Maple Forest City Daoist Academy. Of course, that was a remark Zhao Rucheng only dared to whisper in private.

The current reigning top courtesan of the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion was a woman named Miao Yu.

Countless men yearned for her boudoir day and night, wishing they could prostrate themselves and crawl beneath her skirts. But those fortunate enough to taste her charms were few indeed.

On an ornate step-sway bed, a naked middle-aged man wore a fervent expression, yet beneath him there was clearly only a bundle of bedding.

Separated by just a single beaded curtain, a soft couch faced the step-sway bed. Miao Yu propped her chin on her hand, languidly half-reclining, her curves exquisitely outlined. Her gaze was hazy—it was unclear whether she was even watching the middle-aged man's "self-amusement."

A man in black knelt before the soft couch, reporting in a respectful voice.

"So, this Jiang Wang knows a rather exquisite sword technique, but never revealed it in front of anyone before?"

Her voice was languid, like a cat just waking from sleep, faintly and teasingly stirring the heart.

The man in black knelt without ever raising his head: "Indeed. Your subordinate is incompetent; I truly cannot trace where he learned it."

Miao Yu seemed lost in thought, then lifted a finger: "You may withdraw."

Hearing this, the man in black pressed his forehead to the floor, folded his ring and little fingers, formed a triangle with thumb, index, and middle fingers over his heart, and softly chanted: "At the bottom of the River of Forgetfulness, in the Abyss of the Yellow Springs. The honored god returns to the world, illuminating the mortal realm."

Then he simply sank down into the floor.

"A sword technique that never appeared in the entire Maple Forest City Daoist Academy? Passed down from some great martial artist who tested his blade across the world? Or perhaps..." Miao Yu's gaze grew distant.

"The Dao Son..."

Her thoughts wandered further, farther, more ethereally.

"At the bottom of the River of Forgetfulness, in the Abyss of the Yellow Springs. The honored god returns to the world, illuminating the mortal realm."

She made the same gesture, softly chanting the same words.

And on the step-sway bed, the naked man continued writhing against himself, sinking ever deeper into his beautiful fantasy, as if he could drown there forever.

At that moment, far away in a village in Yong Kingdom, a fierce-faced bald man was gripping something and devouring it in large bites, blood streaming over his mouth and hands.

He was enjoying his meal when suddenly a streak of light shot down, hurtling straight toward him.

Unfortunately, this was no heavenly justice, no evil-slaying flying sword descending.

The bald man reached out and snatched the streak of light, which transformed into an ancient longsword in his hand.

"Damn it! One day I'll eat your heart!" Disturbed from his meal, the bald man was clearly furious.

"Old bastard, what era is this, still using flying sword messages!" He grumbled curses as he used his blood-soaked hand to open the letter attached to the flying sword.

The Mo Sect's Thousand-Mile Voice Transmission Box had been on the market for years now, with excellent sales. But some factions refused to use it, because no one could be sure whether those Mo Sect mechanism-crafters had left any backdoors in the transmission boxes.

Even if the Mo Sect members swore by heaven and earth—even the most rigorous heart-demon oaths had already had dozens of solutions researched; what use was swearing?

"Zhuang Kingdom, Qinghe Prefecture, Three Mountains City?" He read slowly, then couldn't help spitting: "What godforsaken backwater!"

The longsword swayed in the air, as if urging him on.

The bald man grew even more irritable, but clearly the letter's sender was someone he couldn't yet defy.

He used his bloodstained finger to scrawl five crooked strokes on the letter paper—a crude drawing of a horse, meaning: Go immediately.

He casually fixed the letter back onto the sword, and the blade vanished as swiftly as it had come.

Only after the flying sword had disappeared into the distance did the bald man suddenly remember something. "Boss won't fail to understand, will he?"

He thought about it for a moment, then shook off this small worry.

"If he can't even understand that, what kind of boss is he!"

Walking to the dormitory door, Jiang Wang heard voices coming from inside.

After advancing to inner disciple, he still lived with Ling He and Du Yehu, convenient for sparring and seeking the Dao whenever they wished. Zhao Rucheng came by every few days to stay a night, but never lingered long. Though the room was much better than before, to Zhao Rucheng... the difference was negligible.

Hearing Jiang Wang's footsteps, Ling He hurried out: "You're finally back! Your family has been waiting for you for ages!"

Family...

Jiang Wang's heart leaped. He quickly turned into the room and saw, at the set of rosewood table and chairs by the window, a woman whose charms had not yet faded—those furnishings, naturally, were things Zhao Rucheng had insisted on having brought in.

Du Yehu sat stiffly beside her, looking like a well-behaved, honest child answering questions—the woman asked, he answered. The very picture of a wild boy taming his nature in front of a friend's parent.

Only this "child" had far too thick a beard and far too hasty an appearance. In comparison, he actually seemed older than the well-preserved woman.

Seeing Jiang Wang enter, the woman hastily stood up, surprise and delight shining in her eyes. "Xiao Wang, long time no see! You've grown taller, and stronger too!"

Jiang Wang nodded in greeting. "Greetings, Aunt Song."

His birth mother had passed away long ago, and this woman was his father's second wife. He could never bring himself to change how he addressed her, always calling her "aunt."

This aunt was not a bad person, nor had she ever mistreated him. It was just that within a few years of his father remarrying, Jiang Wang had already passed the entrance exam and entered the outer sect of the Dao Academy. Cultivation was arduous; aside from holidays and festivals, he almost never returned home. They had never clashed, but neither could their bond be called deep.

As Aunt Song greeted him, she pulled the little girl hiding behind her to the front. "Say hello!"

It was a timid little girl. Urged on by her mother, she opened her small mouth and whispered, "Brother."

Aunt Song's silken garments were bright and resplendent, adding three points of charm to her appearance. The little girl was also decently dressed, but her delicate features were naturally striking, drawing admiration.

Unfortunately, after that single call, she immediately slipped back behind her mother, peeking out with only half her little head to size up this brother she had not seen in so long.

He naturally cherished his little sister—blood was thicker than water, a truth no one could change. But his mind was wholly devoted to cultivation, and every time he returned home, it was only in haste. It had been a long while since he last heard that "brother."

Though soft and faint, the sound was like pearls rolling across a jade plate—indescribably crisp and pleasing.

Having long been steeped in slaughter, often witnessing bloodshed and darkness, Jiang Wang felt his heart—which he had thought had turned cold and hard—suddenly begin to melt.

Since returning from Tangshe Town, this was the first genuine smile Jiang Wang had shown. "An'an!"