The Flower-Thieving Bandit

Hearing the words "hard-won victory," all the Nine-Clear Sect disciples felt as though their intelligence had been insulted.

Could his acting possibly have been any worse?

Still, Chu Zeming's injuries were quite real.

Thus, supported by his junior brothers, Chu Zeming returned to the inn at the foot of Returning Origin Sect's mountain to rest.

The first round of preliminary arena matches lasted four days without pause, day or night. Other than Chu Zeming's number one, his fellow sect disciples all had relatively late draw numbers; the earliest was over two hundred. It was not yet their turn to take the stage. Therefore, Chu Zeming told them to cultivate on their own and consolidate their foundations. If they had time, they could also watch cultivators from other sects compete and learn from their experience.

After everyone had left, Chu Zeming removed his clothes and carefully examined the wounds on his body.

Chang Wei's spiked club was formidable indeed. Chu Zeming's body was covered in large and small, vicious-looking scars. Fortunately, they were all superficial wounds and not difficult to heal.

Slowly exhaling a breath of foul air, Chu Zeming closed his eyes and formed a hand seal. Dense spiritual energy enveloped his wounds, and threads of coolness seeped into his body through the broken skin. Roughly two hours later, the skin all over Chu Zeming's body had finally healed, returning to its original smooth, pristine state.

Chu Zeming had just changed into fresh clothes when he heard someone knock outside.

"It's me, Brother Chu."

Chang Wei's furtive voice came from beyond the door.

Chu Zeming rose and opened it, only to see Chang Wei standing outside with a twisted, uneasy expression on his face.

Calling him big brother was merely flattery; Chang Wei was clearly much older than Chu Zeming.

Chang Wei said, "I searched for ages before I found the inn where your Nine-Clear Haoran Sect is staying. I came to seek your advice. Starting today, I'm officially going to pursue that little junior brother of yours."

Chu Zeming nodded, brought Chang Wei inside to sit, and then earnestly began analyzing Yue Lian's personality and preferences, as well as how Chang Wei ought to pursue him.

Chang Wei listened with great attention, even taking out a small notebook to record Chu Zeming's words.

After they had talked for a long while, Chu Zeming raised his eyes to stare at Chang Wei and seriously pointed out the crux of the matter. "He likes handsome men, not rough, burly fellows. You need to find a way to change your style."

Chang Wei nodded. "I'll go get a new outfit later. I know clothes make the man, and a saddle makes the horse."

As he spoke, Chang Wei touched the fur coat he had worn for more than ten years, feeling somewhat reluctant to part with it.

Hearing Chu Zeming speak so logically, Chang Wei said enviously, "Brother Chu, you make so much sense. Your experience in love must be abundant, right? Unlike me, who has never tasted love's bitterness or shed love's tears."

Chu Zeming: "..."

In truth, he had never tasted love's bitterness either.

Finding the question difficult to answer, Chu Zeming gave a dry cough and continued feeding Chang Wei the tricks male leads in the television dramas from his previous life used to chase their beloved wives.

No one knew that inside the inn room—

A straight man who had been single since birth for two lifetimes was teaching another man, single since birth for over fifty years, how to pursue men.

It was not until the sky gradually darkened that Chang Wei finally left, satisfied and laden with gains.

The preliminary matches continued.

Yet over the following days, Chu Zeming did not go observe anyone else's matches.

His luck had been terrible. He had encountered an opponent on Chang Wei's level in the preliminaries, and there was no guarantee he would not encounter someone from the previous tournament's top ten in the upcoming five-hundred-to-two-hundred-and-fifty round. He had to raise his strength as quickly as possible.

On the road to Cangzhou, Xiao Hei had already awakened from its slumber. Though it was still tiny, its aura had grown much stronger. With scarlet eyes and a pitch-black body, it looked even more sinister and terrifying.

Because it did not look particularly righteous, and because Xiao Hei had plenty of personality and disliked staying inside the spiritual pet space in Chu Zeming's body, Chu Zeming left it in the inn room during the tournament, where it played by fighting its own heads.

After leaving a message for Xuan Mo in the room, Chu Zeming entered the inner room, scooped up Xiao Hei, whose heads had tangled themselves into a knot, tucked it inside his clothes, and transformed into a streak of light as he departed.

His black robes blended into the night, his figure flickering in and out of sight amid the pitch-dark darkness.

Across the vast region of Cangzhou, aside from the great cultivation sect Returning Origin Sect and Cangzhou City, there was also an immense range of mountains.

These mountain ranges, stretching for tens of thousands of kilometers, were called Cangzhou's Devil Forest. Demonic beasts ran rampant within, and from ancient times until now, countless capable cultivators had fallen there.

Though this vast forest was fraught with danger, everyone who returned after entering those mountains had improved their cultivation considerably. Some cultivators had even gained the ability to challenge opponents above their level. Thus, many ambitious cultivators were willing to risk their lives for a round of training in Devil Forest.

There were few cultivators around Devil Forest at night. It was utterly silent, and looked even more dangerous.

Chu Zeming's gaze narrowed slightly. He lowered his head to look at Xiao Hei in his arms and asked softly, "Dragon Treasure, are you ready?"

Xiao Hei's four little heads nodded.

Chu Zeming stroked Xiao Hei, then his entire body transformed into a ray of white light as he carried it straight into the forest.

Within Cangzhou City.

Some of the other Nine-Clear Haoran Sect disciples cultivated behind closed doors, while others went to Returning Origin Sect's tournament arenas to observe others competing. Everyone was busy and tense.

Only Yue Lian did nothing at all.

He neither cultivated nor cared to watch anyone besides Chu Zeming fight, so he wandered the night market alone.

There were not many people this beautiful. Along the way, he attracted swarms of bees and butterflies, drawing the attention of many infatuated onlookers.

Yue Lian acted as though he did not see them—or rather, he had long since grown accustomed to it.

Too much time had passed. The present Cangzhou City was very different from the one he remembered.

Yue Lian wandered about with great interest. Whenever he spotted something amusing, he readily paid spiritual stones for it. Unlike when Chu Zeming browsed street stalls and bought only treasures, Yue Lian preferred novel little trinkets that were flashy but useless—such as clay figurines, lovers' knots, hairpins, bracelets, and the like. He had even spent a hefty sum on a book of secret bedchamber arts.

"Fairy, it isn't good for you to wander the streets alone so late at night. What if you encounter a villain? Recently, the flower-thieving bandit in Cangzhou City has been rampant. Few fairies from wealthy households dare travel alone now." A gentle, amiable voice suddenly sounded behind him.

Yue Lian turned to look.

A young man dressed in fine clothes but with an ugly face stood behind him, lightly fanning himself with a folding fan. "I am Chu Linfeng. I've been noticing you for quite some time, Fairy."

Yue Lian pointed at his Adam's apple and asked, "See this? Adam's apple."

Chu Linfeng was awkward for a moment. He touched his nose and said, "Sorry, I mistook your gender."

Yue Lian ignored him and turned to leave.

When he reached a narrow, secluded alley, Yue Lian abruptly stopped. He turned around and quietly stared at the pitch-black, empty space behind him.

"Huh? You found me?" The familiar voice sounded. Chu Linfeng emerged from the darkness, waving his folding fan. A hint of surprise appeared on his ugly face. "Even Out-of-Body Stage cultivators would find it difficult to detect my concealment technique, yet a mere Fusion Stage cultivator like you can see through my hiding place."

Yue Lian's thick lashes lowered slightly as he said flatly, "Why are you following me?"

Chu Linfeng snapped his folding fan shut, a meaningful smile appearing on his face. "Why? Naturally... to pluck a flower~~~ Come now, great beauty. Even if you are a man, Brother Linfeng is willing to make an exception for you today."

Having said that, Chu Linfeng summoned his natal artifact.

A giant quilt patterned with blooming peonies descended from the heavens, directly covering Yue Lian's head.

The great beauty was covered.

Excited, Chu Linfeng undid his clothes and stepped forward. He lifted the quilt, just about to crawl inside, when he unexpectedly met a pair of eyes darker than the night itself. His heart could not help but tremble.

Chu Linfeng reflexively wanted to flee.

Yet in the next instant, an indescribable terror surged from the soles of his feet to his scalp.

After only a few breaths, Yue Lian slowly emerged from beneath the quilt.

Chu Linfeng's hands trembled as he wrapped himself in the quilt artifact.

Terror, insignificance, despair... countless dreadful emotions intertwined in his mind. His eyes gradually turned numb, as though he had lost his senses, while his mouth kept crying, "I'm sorry, Senior, I'm sorry..."

Yue Lian gave him a light glance, then slowly closed his eyes and sealed away all the aura within his body once more.

The ancient sealing formation lit up again, flickered several times, and abruptly vanished.

Picking up the hairpins and the dirty little book scattered on the ground, Yue Lian turned and left the dark alley.

On the second day after Chu Zeming left Cangzhou City, Xuan Mo entered his room early in the morning and discovered the sound-transmission jade talisman he had left behind.

Behind Xuan Mo, the other disciples all wore expressions of admiration.

Their eldest senior brother cultivated diligently and worked hard. Even when traveling, he had never relaxed for a single moment.

Originally, everyone had come to take part in this competition with a try-and-see attitude. Yet Chu Zeming's attitude was so serious that it could not help stirring all their emotions.

Putting away the jade talisman, Xuan Mo turned to his junior brothers and said, "Remain calm when gaining, remain calm when losing, and fight for what must be fought for! Those who walk the path of cultivation should approach everything with such an attitude. Eldest Senior Brother studies so diligently, so we cannot fall too far behind. Starting today, all of everyone's entertainment and leisure time will be used for cultivation! Do you hear me?"

That shot of chicken blood set everyone's blood boiling. Even Ling Tian, who had never particularly liked Xuan Mo, was encouraged. Only Yue Lian still looked utterly out of it.

The first day without Eldest Senior Brother—

Miss him, miss him, miss him.

Xuan Mo looked at Yue Lian, who stood by the door with his little finger cocked up, craning his neck in anticipation and absent-mindedly staring into the distance. Xuan Mo wanted to serve him a bowl of chicken soup too, but after hesitating for a moment, he gave up.

Senior Brother was right. Their little junior brother was a lump of dog shit that could not be plastered onto a wall.

Forget it.

Thus, Xuan Mo added, "Little Junior Brother can do as he pleases."

Yue Lian turned his head and gave Xuan Mo a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Senior Brother Xuan Mo."

Xuan Mo: "...No need to thank me."

Time passed quickly.

In the blink of an eye, the fourth day had arrived, yet Chu Zeming still had not returned.

The second round of the Joint Grand Tournament no longer used drawing lots to determine opponents. Instead, opponents were determined by arena numbers—the victor of arena number one from the first round fought the victor of arena number three, number two fought number four, and so on.

There were still three incense sticks' worth of time to take the stage. If one had not mounted the stage by the time the incense burned out, it meant automatic forfeiture, and the other party advanced automatically.

The victor of arena number three was a young Daoist priest in wide-sleeved green robes.

He sat upright on the competition platform, a horsetail whisk in hand, waiting.

Glancing sideways at the stage, he saw that his opponent had yet to appear, and a smile surfaced on his face.

His luck was good this time. He had encountered a cultivator who would forfeit.

As the final incense stick was about to burn out, anxious expressions could not help appearing on the faces of the Nine-Clear Haoran Sect disciples below the stage.

Had he encountered some danger? Why had Senior Brother still not come?

Just as the elder below the stage was preparing to carry a gong up and announce the result, a black-clad figure carrying a strong stench of blood appeared from the horizon and landed above the arena in the blink of an eye—his clothes were tattered, and his entire body was covered in wounds of varying depths.

Author's note:

Xuan "Chu Zeming's Number One Fanboy" Mo: "Senior Brother is right. You're a girly, useless dead salted fish that can't be plastered onto a wall."

Yue Lian: "I'm truly so wronged."