He was still sighing over this when he seemed to hear voices outside the courtyard. Amid the confused footsteps, they were heading straight for his courtyard.
Standing in the courtyard with his sword cradled in his arms, he was puzzled. This place had been quiet for a month. Was trouble coming just as his stay was ending?
Apparently not. The clamorous voices were full of drunken boasting and mutual flattery. One could not expect much refinement from the outer courtyard's cultivators; they had only just stepped onto the Dao Path. Foundation Cultivation and Grain Avoidance might seem somewhat beyond Hou Niao's reach now, but to true cultivators, these people had yet to set out properly.
With a bang, someone shoved the courtyard gate open. Its latch had never been meant to keep thieves out, so how could it withstand a drunken cultivator's careless shove?
A dozen or so people poured in, every one of them red-eyed. The stink of alcohol assailed his nose even from a distance. Where had they found immortal wine that could get a whole crowd this drunk?
Of course, this was only how they appeared. It might have made them more excited, but they were still far from losing their senses.
Three cycles of their cultivation methods would clear the alcohol from their stomachs, but the stimulation that had rushed into their minds would not fade so quickly.
The group was clearly surprised to see Hou Niao standing in the courtyard with his sword in his arms.
One cultivator pointed at him. "Who are you? Why are you standing here? Where's the Young Lady Xiao?"
Hou Niao immediately understood why they had come. Wine had emboldened these cowards, and now, riding their drunkenness, they were starting on the pastime men loved most?
"Senior Brother Zheng arranged for me to move into this courtyard. I know nothing else. If you gentlemen have no other business, I need to cultivate."
For cultivators, a private residence was inviolable. Casually disturbing someone's cultivation was extremely discourteous and carried a strong air of provocation, so Hou Niao dispensed with politeness. There was no reasoning with a group whose heads were swimming.
Still, he had raised the banner of Senior Brother Zheng, the outer courtyard's administrator, precisely because he wanted to avoid pointless trouble. Drunken misconduct simply was not worth it.
Normally, that would have ended the matter. These people had not come with any particular intentions beyond chatting with a beauty and enjoying themselves. Otherwise, one man would have come, not a whole group.
But they had drawn a blank. Seeing this lowly cultivator standing there with his sword cradled in his arms, his expression cold and solemn, he looked every inch a swordsman. As the saying went:
An eagle-eyed sidelong glare, a hand upon the sword-anger only flared!
This greatly displeased their leader. A mere Qi Gathering cultivator, yet he did not address his senior brothers with the utmost respect. Who was this stern, imposing pose supposed to impress? Since they could not amuse themselves with the young lady, they might as well amuse themselves with this lowly cultivator.
Fueled by drink, he jabbed a finger at him. "I know you. A mere Qi Gathering whelp from Anhe, without even the courage to leave the city and kill demons. Without the heart to draw your sword, how dare you come to Jincheng to scrape by? Rich as the Shan Kingdom is, it doesn't feed useless men!"
Hou Niao's expression remained unchanged. "Disturbing another's cultivation is forbidden in the outer courtyard. A private courtyard may bar those with ill intent. Senior brothers, if you don't leave, I'll have to call the senior brother in charge."
Everyone burst out laughing. Running to one's elders at the first sign of a dispute was like children calling for their parents during a fight; it was contemptible. Ordinary cultivators settled such trifles privately, let alone those of the Quanzhen Sect, known as a Demonic Sect, whose members all prized courage and loved a fight.
Their leader held him in even greater contempt. People like them had no thought of pitying the weak; they would only heap on more humiliation. This was also the basic state of the Shan Kingdom's cultivation world. One could swagger or act recklessly, but never bow and scrape, or everyone would look down on one.
"Ha! Calling for help already? Could it be that you only look grown-up, but you're actually still an unweaned babe?"
The crowd roared even louder. Even if some felt this was improper, it was only a joke, so what did it matter? The Quanzhen Sect's rules were harsh indeed, but they were all men who had earned merit killing demons. Besides, they had not joined Quanzhen yet, had they?
Hou Niao took out a message talisman, one issued to every prospective cultivator staying in the outer courtyard. It was a low-grade article that could not transmit very far, but it was more than sufficient for sending messages within the outer courtyard.
He displayed it in his hand, then crushed it. "When someone trespasses in a cultivator's residence, its owner has the right to kill them. I've reported this. I suggest you all conduct yourselves accordingly!"
None of them had truly expected this fellow to crush the message talisman. This was not merely making a mountain out of a molehill; it was a fox borrowing a tiger's might. They had simply remembered that a pretty young lady lived here and come over for some amusement and teasing. If a single message talisman frightened them away, how could they drink together again?
Encountering someone who refused to play by the usual rules, who brandished a chicken feather as a command sword at every turn, who had no sense of how seriously to take a joke, and who forcibly escalated a trifle until Quanzhen disciples had to intervene-anyone would feel a knot of frustration.
Frustration had to be vented. That was their philosophy. They cultivated the demonic arts, not the Dao; keeping their spirits unburdened mattered greatly. There would be no endless forbearance and yielding.
Such was the outlook of the Shan Kingdom's cultivators: advance one step, and sea and sky opened wide; retreat one step, and a bottomless abyss awaited.
Their leader was furious. Coming here had been his suggestion. That young lady was very alluring, and he had been quite taken with her. But with his friends coming along to support him, how could he lose his standing before such a lowly cultivator?
He flung aside his wine flask and drew his longsword with a clang. "Since you're cradling a sword, you must have considerable insight into swordsmanship? Why not let your senior brother see what peerless sword art you've hatched by hiding away in this courtyard like a woman?"
Hou Niao had not changed his stance from beginning to end. "Drawing a sword in someone's private residence is punishable by death under Mainland Law, with no liability for the killing! Besides, Senior Brother Zheng will be here any moment. If you still refuse to leave, you'll bear the consequences!"
The first half was delivered with stirring fervor, but the second betrayed his timidity. This little Daoist truly was a character. His heart was plainly beating like a drum, yet he insisted on putting on a fearless front. It really was laughable.
Still, this reminded the leader that once Senior Brother Zheng arrived, they could not possibly attack. At the very least, they would receive a public scolding. Those were the rules.
"Consequences? Before I face any consequences, I'm afraid you'll face some first!"
He lunged forward, his longsword sweeping down diagonally.
The strike drew loud cheers from his friends behind him. Though he had been drinking, though his opponent was weak, the sword stroke itself was utterly flawless!
This was a veteran seasoned by a hundred battles, a habit forged through countless fights. There was no question of underestimating an enemy: once his sword came out, he gave it his all. How could a mere Qi Gathering cultivator withstand such a strike from a Foundation Cultivation Realm cultivator?
The lowly cultivator seemed frozen with terror, not even knowing to dodge. Just as everyone began worrying that their friend had struck too hard and would leave them unable to account for it, they saw the lowly cultivator suddenly step forward, letting the longsword and its surging qi skim past his cheek by a hair's breadth...
At some point, the sword in his hands had shifted from a cradled position to a leveled one. He had not thrust it out; it was as though their friend had willingly offered his body to it.
The sharp sword tip, bearing Gang Qi, pierced their friend's body without the slightest resistance. From its position, it had struck his heart, without the slightest deviation!
Hou Niao drove forward with his sword leveled, knocking his opponent away with his shoulder, as though the man had withdrawn from the blade himself. Throughout the entire process, his shoulder had not shifted and his arm had not swung; he had merely changed from cradling the sword to leveling it. Yet the timing, the resolve, and the precision of his judgment made their hair stand on end!
This entire sequence was precisely what he had learned from that Sword Soul in the Soul Realm! Killing without so much as a change of expression, lightly and casually, with consummate ease!
Looking again at the people before him, all gaping and dumbstruck, as wooden as chickens, he could not help shaking his head inwardly.
...Though spirit might soar to the heavens amid the clash, none here could recognize the sword.