My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 686 – Four Maids, One Realm - Part 2

Half a month passed.

The night was moonless, the wind sharp.

Chains swayed faintly in the dark as a slender figure darted through the shadows and arrived at the central tower.

Inside, Tang Nian was meditating.

Lady Yu, too, was supposed to be in seclusion, but instead she had quietly stepped out. She stood in the corridor, eyes fixed on the woman who had slipped in while Li Yuan was away from the sect. It was Tang Xitu, also known as Delight.

“How is he?” Lady Yu asked. She didn’t ask out of a need for control. It was something simpler and more dangerous, possessiveness.

The four maids had received much from her, favor, training, and opportunity. She had handpicked them, molded them, and elevated them. Their loyalty had been tested time and again.

She wasn’t worried about where their loyalty lay. She wouldn’t have dared place them at Li Yuan’s side otherwise. No, she was confident in their ruthlessness and near-total emotional detachment. They were like puppets who only knew how to execute tasks.

Tang Xitu calmly reported everything Li Yuan had done and said.

Only after a long while did Lady Yu finally exhale. She gave Tang Xitu a few pointers on her martial arts before waving her off, instructing her to return swiftly.

Meanwhile, in a temporary residence in the heart of Westgorge Province, designed like a miniature palace, faint laughter rang out from within.

Steam rose in gentle plumes from a large wooden bath, carrying the rich scent of medicinal herbs.

Li Yuan reclined inside, his arms stretched lazily along the rim of the tub, eyes closed in utter comfort.

A single yellow leaf drifted from a nearby branch, twirling softly through the air before landing on the water’s surface.

The faint ripple it caused stirred Li Yuan from his thoughts. His eyes opened, gazing at the bleak autumn scene beyond the steam. His mind wandered, reflecting on the deeper truths he'd grasped recently, how his martial arts had begun to merge with true insight.

For most people, being away from home, surrounded by unfamiliar lands, watching the leaves fall, such a scene might trigger melancholy.

But Li Yuan was not alone in his bath.

Flanking him on either side were two women with their hair pinned up, their faces delicate and serene.

They were Tang Nulong and Tang Aizhu, Anger and Sorrow.

The first of the two women had long, narrow eyes, so narrow that her pupils always seemed half-concealed, lending her a shadowy, dangerous aura.

This was Tang Nulong, a master of hidden weapons. Her signature skill, Sevenfold Exquisite Heart, had claimed the lives of countless martial experts over the years. And those victims just before their deaths would always lock eyes with her, those cold, narrow eyes seared into their final moments in terror.

But now, those same eyes radiated only quiet obedience. Her once-deadly hands were gently kneading Li Yuan’s shoulders.

The second woman had the eyes of a poet, soulful and distant. She was the type to sigh over the fleeting nature of life, to find beauty in the stillness of death.

Tang Aizhu preferred poison. It was her art, her ritual.

She liked to appear before her victims only after the poison had done its work, when death was inevitable, and recite a freshly penned poem composed just for them.

Once, she had poisoned an entire noble family by herself. As the toxic mist settled over the corpses, her eyes welled with tears.

She wasn’t mourning their deaths, not really. Her grief was for the fragility of life itself, the tragic, breathtaking spectacle of death in all its finality.

In the eyes of the martial world, Tang Aizhu was a monster used to scare children into silence at night.

But here and now, those sorrowful eyes traced the lines of Li Yuan’s body with something like reverence. The same hands that mixed poisons with surgical precision now moved rhythmically across his skin, sometimes soft, sometimes firm, in devoted service.

As the two women tended to Li Yuan in the steaming bath, they began to recount their past deeds. Their confessions came with deference, spoken calmly but cautiously, as if trying to balance candor with self-preservation.

And all the while, they watched his every reaction, like loyal subjects watching an emperor’s gaze. A blink from him could stir a storm in their hearts, each word from him sending waves of interpretation through their minds.

They were not good people.

And Li Yuan was no butcher, no wanton killer, which suggested...perhaps he was a good man.

And if he truly was the reincarnation of Lord Yu, the one who once hung two blades above the heads of the Emperor and Divine Sovereign...well, then he must have been a great man. After all, what kind of villain would trouble himself over the fate of the world?

Good and evil rarely shared the same path.

So they smiled as they listened to him, even when he said something utterly mundane. They smiled as if every word he spoke were dipped in honey.

But inside, they were walking a tightrope over a chasm, hearts pounding, nerves taut, every breath carefully measured.

Li Yuan could feel the tension radiating off them. A moment of reflection was all it took to understand why.

So, in a quiet, leisurely voice, he said, “Let me tell you two a story.”

Then he tilted his head back, let out a relaxed sigh, and began weaving a tale.

It was a martial world retelling of The Three-Body Problem, a story he’d read before his transmigration, though he had reimagined it through the lens of swords and sects, infusing it with the eternal struggle between good and evil.

The tale went like this.

A lone city stood isolated on the frontier. In a rare moment of unity, the righteous and the wicked factions of the martial world had agreed to defend it together.

At first, it was the evil sects that led the defense. Their methods were brutal, cruel, and perilously effective. They posed as much danger to their allies as to their enemies.

But then, in a great battle, the strongest of the evil cultivators was ambushed and killed.

With him gone, the righteous faction took control. The people of the city cheered. The evil sect’s vile and inhumane tactics were banned. There was celebration, relief, and moral high ground.

Then the enemy returned, this time in full force.

And without the despicable methods of the wicked sects, the city could not hold. It fell.

The city fell. The enemy ordered a massacre.

The same people who had once cheered with joy now suffered horrors beyond imagination. For many, death would have been a mercy, but even that became a luxury. In the end, the city was reduced to a carcass for the invaders, a reward for their soldiers, butchered until nothing remained.

That was where the story ended.

Tang Nulong and Tang Aizhu looked at the young man who had told the tale, and for the first time that night, they both quietly exhaled. Somehow, the Sect Master’s story made them feel..less like monsters. Less like villains from a child’s nightmare.

Their delicate, silken hands moved through the warm, herb-scented bathwater, tending to him with practiced care. The night outside hung heavy and quiet.

Li Yuan leaned back and simply enjoyed it.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Several days later.

Li Yuan arrived at the city under the Ji Clan’s rule.

The whole place had been transformed. Lanterns hung from every rooftop, streets were ablaze with color and celebration. It felt like a festival, like the New Year had come early. All of it, just to welcome this one man, the new overlord.

At the banquet that evening, the Ji Clan patriarch left the seat of honor open for Li Yuan and respectfully took the seat just below him.

Dancers swirled beneath gauzy silks, musicians sat in neat rows on either side, heads bowed as they plucked their pipa with quiet elegance.

Every dancer and musician present was a beauty—graceful, poised, well-trained in both art and allure.

Normally, the Ji patriarch would seize this moment to curry favor with his guests, handing out dancers and musicians like favors, using beauty as a bribe to bind hearts.

And so, in such banquets, the air was usually thick with licentious glances and hungry eyes, guests measuring the women as though they were items on display.

But tonight, no one dared.

No one dared so much as stare too long. Instead, everyone wore polite smiles and made idle conversation, doing their best to keep the mood festive.

In truth, every one of them was sweating beneath their robes. Hearts tight, minds spinning, all thinking the same thing:

How do I get close to the new ruler? How do I earn his favor?

That was because Li Yuan’s presence meant only one thing. Power was about to be reshuffled.

And everyone wanted a piece of it. Everyone wanted to be part of the inner circle.

The trouble was, Li Yuan didn’t know any of them.

His only insight came from the Ji Clan power map that had been quietly handed to him by the four maids. It listed key figures within the Ji Clan, those who held strength, had clean reputations, yet lacked real power.

These were the ones he could raise. And because their power would come directly from him, they’d naturally become his people.

Before attending the banquet, he’d already selected a few names.

Tonight, all he needed to do was observe, quietly test and assess those candidates.

But no decisions would be made just yet.

When the banquet finally ended, some left elated, others crestfallen.

Back at the residence arranged by the Ji Clan, Li Yuan took his evening bath early, attended as always by two of the four maids.

Afterward, he sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, his breath slow and deep.

The essence of the land, the golden aura of mountains, rivers, and people, seemed to stir, as if finding a vortex, flowing toward him. Fine golden threads drifted through the air and entered his body, soaking into him like spring rain on thirsty soil. It was as though he were becoming one with Heaven and Earth.

And yet...the sensation of growth was faint.

This told him that while he had assumed the role of Sect Master of the Tang Sect, the land had yet to fully acknowledge him.

Without the land’s recognition, there could be no true ascension.

To earn that recognition, he had to spread his name far and wide.

That was one reason he accepted the invitation to tour the Tang Sect’s territory.

When the journey was complete, he would perform the bestowal ceremony at the border where Southriver, Northriver, and Westgorge met, offer sacrifice to Heaven and Earth, and declare his rule.

Of course, beyond this goal, along with the usual reasons of settling internal affairs before handling external threats and personally surveying the domain, there was another reason.

It was a personal one, and that was reuniting with Xie Yu.

Late into the night, after finishing his daily cultivation routine, Li Yuan lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, mind drifting as he reflected on the past few days.

It had been...unexpectedly entertaining.

His schedule was packed, each stop of his tour planned out like pieces being placed on a massive chessboard. No tricks, no shortcuts. Everything moved forward step by step, like a tide rising slowly, steadily, and inevitably.

Around midnight, a sudden commotion stirred outside the palace grounds. Li Yuan opened his eyes and called for Tang Aizhu, who was on night duty, to investigate.

The report came back quickly: the youngest son of the Ji Clan’s senior elder, the same elder currently being replaced, had come to make a scene.

Of course, it wasn’t really a scene. The young man just wanted an explanation.

“He said his father has served diligently for years,” Tang Aizhu recited in her usual calm, emotionless tone. “Risked his life for the Tang Sect. Earned numerous merits. He was even personally appointed by Lady Yu back in the day. So why...why is he being removed now without reason?”

Tang Aizhu continued, “He also said his father is known for his honesty and strict enforcement of the law. That’s why the city has no thieves and no crime, people sleep with their doors open at night. But that same strictness earned him many enemies. If he loses his position, those enemies will surely take revenge.”

She paused, then added, “From what I know, that much is true. The elder in question isn’t well liked. Many within the Ji Clan would likely cheer to see him punished. Perhaps we should punish the boy instead, humiliate him, and make him bear resentment. If he leaves with hatred in his heart, he could become our unwitting pawn. A messenger, feeding false information to our enemies.”

Li Yuan immediately understood the suggestion. Weaponize the boy. Feed him lies. Let him pass them on as truth. A carefully placed rumor from a high-ranking elder’s son could easily tip the balance of a future battle, saving Li Yuan trouble before it even started.

It was ruthless and efficient, nothing wasted.

And yet, for some reason, his thoughts drifted to the web novels he used to read before transmigrating.

They always started the same way. A loyal general, betrayed by the new tyrant emperor, his entire family slaughtered while only the son survived. Driven by vengeance, he would join the enemy nation, train like a madman, and one day return to take bloody revenge.

He chuckled at the thought and shook his head.

“No need for that,” he said lightly.

“As you wish,” she replied without question.

But Li Yuan couldn’t resist his curiosity. He rose from bed, pulled on a simple set of plain clothes, and slipped on a mask. Then, quietly, he left the palace and made his way through the moonlit streets until he spotted the boy.

There he was: the elder’s son, sitting on the edge of a rooftop with his back to the palace, both hands clenched into fists around the sheath of his blade. Under the pale moonlight, he looked utterly lost, caught in anguish.

Li Yuan took one look at the boy. A combat power of 5~7, he noted, completely average.

Not every tragic backstory makes you a protagonist, he mused with a faint smile. Still, he leapt up lightly and landed beside the boy.

“S-senior!” The boy startled, but quickly bowed and addressed him.

They talked for a long while. Li Yuan found the young man passionate and unafraid, hot-blooded and brimming with the defiance of youth. There was something refreshing about it. This kind of fire had never burned in him, not in his past life and not in this one.

Before they parted, Li Yuan reached into his memory and taught the boy a simplified version of City Toppler, one of his oldest martial skills.

And before dawn broke, he vanished back into the shadows.

Tossing a branch into the stream, never waiting to see if it blooms, such were the quiet pleasures of eternal life.