Chapter 170 - Festival’s Eve (Final) (Patreon)

“How are you feeling, Fellow Daoist?” Verdant Creek asked, breaking the silence while the others activated their investigative techniques.

None of them directed those techniques at Lucian. Instead, they swept the surroundings, checking whether any other cultivator had breached the defensive formation and whether the room was truly safe for conversation.

Lucian stood up and nodded to Verdant Creek. “I'm fine. Once the festival is over, I'll be ready to fulfill our agreement.”

Rotating her parasol, Vice-Lord Verdant Creek nodded in understanding. She saw that Lucian clearly had no interest in idle conversation or hearing that she wasn't part of the assassination attempt, so she quietly stepped back, choosing to remain still and watch.

Silence once again filled the room as the others pondered how they should approach him. They had expected a man who had slept for nearly six days to wake up disoriented and confused. But contrary to their expectations, Lucian's eyes were as focused as always.

The only aspect close to confusion he let through his gaze was the desire for an explanation for their presence. He seemed curious about why so many people had gathered around him. It was as though collapsing and slumbering for a long time was perfectly ordinary, while having visitors was the truly unusual part.

Inwardly, they even doubted if Lucian knew he had been sleeping for almost a week.

A moment later, chuckling softly, Zhi Jian closed the children's storybook and approached Lucian, offering a slight bow with cupped fists.

"I'm relieved to see your body and soul are unharmed, Fellow Daoist Bo Xian."

Lucian frowned and said, “If my physical condition is your greatest concern, then you may all leave.”

Madame Ching blinked, momentarily speechless, while Lord Ye Ren's eyes only grew brighter with interest.

Used to this, Grandmaster Miao sighed. Internally, he thanked the Nine Heavens that Lucian hadn't bluntly told them all to scram.

Zou Si frowned, considering Lucian's behavior disrespectful toward the Vice-Lord. As for Zhi Jian, he scratched his head with an embarrassed smile.

Wang Chen let out a nervous laugh, deeply afraid Lucian might start a fight.

At last, Verdant Creek chuckled, absentmindedly spinning her parasol a little faster.

After the awkward second of weird reactions, Grandmaster Miao rose to his feet and said, “We've begun rebuilding the Broken Maze. Your sewage plan has been implemented there.”

That caught Lucian’s attention. It was a pleasant and peculiar surprise to have others work for free.

“No one opposed it once I presented the proposal. On the contrary, everyone supported it enthusiastically,” Grandmaster Miao continued. “Wang Chen supplied us with the plans, Madame Ching lent us some cultivators to help, and others either bought resources or hired more artisans. This all happened under the name of Bo Merchant Chamber and the City Council, of course.”

Lucian's eyes briefly glowed crimson as he said, “Good.”

Next, he turned toward Madame Ching. Her presence intrigued him much more than Lord Ye Ren's undisguised eagerness.

Noticing his attention, Madame Ching smiled behind her veil and bowed slightly.

“Fellow Daoist, I beg your—”

“Don't apologize,” Lucian said, interrupting her. “I don't care. You helped with my sewage plan as an apology, and that’s enough. We can be enemies or friends depending on what you have to offer.”

Besides, you have a secret that I will find out and use against you. Who cares if you tried to kill me, when you have so much for me to take, he thought.

After being betrayed so many times, Lucian had long abandoned the illusion that friendship and enmity were immutable. To him, they were merely temporary arrangements, bound to change under greater forces.

Momentarily stunned by Lucian’s words, Madame Ching slowly nodded and said, “I understand, Fellow Daoist. I wished to discuss a personal matter. Me, you, and Lord Ye Ren.”

Lucian glanced between the two of them. “After the festival.”

Noticing his dismissive gaze, she bowed and said, “That is acceptable. Thank you for your time, Young Master Bo Xian.”

Before Lord Ye Ren could say anything, Lucian looked directly at him. Seeing the muscular man waiting impatiently to speak, he said flatly, “After. The. Festival.”

Lord Ye Ren swallowed the words already reaching his lips and changed them to a mutter, “Yes... Senior.”

Lucian frowned. Being called "Senior" instead of "Fellow Daoist" or "Fellow Cultivator" was unusual, but he chose not to dwell on it. There were more important matters to deal with.

“Very well,” Lucian said, making a dismissive gesture with his right hand. “I believe everyone has said what they came to say. I'm leaving.”

He walked toward the door under everyone's watchful eyes before slightly tilting his head toward Wang Chen. It was a clear sign calling the plump young man to follow him. And, despite being surrounded by some of the most powerful people in Three Feathers City, his thoughts were already elsewhere.

Wang Chen forced a helpless smile and, after respectfully bowing to everyone in the room, hurried after Lucian.

The remaining Foundation Establishment cultivators exchanged strained smiles. None of them fully understood what had just happened.

After Lucian departed, Grandmaster Miao let out a relieved sigh.

“That's good,” he muttered. “He hasn't changed at all.”

Activating his Qi Lines to contact his servants, he stood and cupped his hands.

“I have urgent matters to attend to. I bid you all farewell.”

With that, he walked out through the still-open door Lucian had left behind, disappearing.

Then, Madame Ching bowed toward Vice-Lord Verdant Creek.

“My fleet requires my attention. I hope to see you tomorrow at the festival, My Lady.”

As soon as she finished speaking, shadows engulfed both her and the smiling Lord Ye Ren, who merely waved goodbye and vanished alongside her.

“How crude and uncouth,” Zou Si said through gritted teeth. “How dare they—”

“We're not alone,” Verdant Creek interrupted with a soft chuckle.

Her gaze rested on Zhi Jian, who stood motionless and quietly watching Lucian's departing figure beyond the walls. After observing the sword cultivator for a few more moments, Verdant Creek approached and offered a respectful bow.

“Does the Southern Sword Demon have something to say?” she asked, knowing he could have left long ago if he had wished.

Zhi Jian slowly turned toward her, his clear eyes appearing slightly unfocused.

“He's weaker and stronger than before,” he said with a confused tone. “Does that make sense? He's both, and neither. He's the right answer, and the wrong one.”

Verdant Creek remained silent, allowing him time to sort through his thoughts. It wasn't unusual for cultivators to find themselves lost in thought in peaceful moments.

Two breaths later, clarity returned to Zhi Jian’s eyes.

“My Sailor School needs more students,” he said, looking directly at her. “Too many people have died these past few weeks. Can you help me?”

Zou Si gasped, her eyes shaking at the hidden meaning behind the question.

Hearing the question, Verdant Creek stopped spinning her parasol for a brief moment before slowly setting it into motion again.

“Of course, Senior Zhi Jian,” she replied with a respectful bow. “We'll send a new batch of students as soon as possible.”

Zhi Jian smiled. Then, he casually nodded goodbye before taking a single step forward, disappearing into the moonlight. It was almost like he had become one with the pale radiance itself.

The surprised Zou Si was about to speak when Verdant Creek gently raised an index finger in a gesture to keep silent. When she saw it, Zou Si hummed in understanding and accompanied Verdant Creek out of the room.

Without any council member knowing, Verdant Creek had gained a new supporter. One so strong that no one would believe it, turning the Military Faction stronger than ever!