“Vile dog thief!”

Wei Qujia’s face was ashen, almost dripping with malice.

Right before his very eyes, the unknown foe had employed the lives of Xiaolin Town as a sacrificial offering. Then, they had consumed the lingering souls of countless generations throughout the Maple Forest City domain to condense the shadow of the Ghost Gate. And finally, they had calmly made their escape, all whilst he, Wei Qujia, a Fifth Grade Grandmaster, strained every fiber of his being, only to come up empty-handed, not even catching a whiff of the culprit!

As the City Lord, he had failed in his duty. As a mighty cultivator, his face had been thoroughly slapped.

When had he ever endured such humiliation?

And so…

“Useless!”

Wei Qujia struck Wei Yan, sending him flying several meters through the air!

The dozens of individuals present dared not utter a sound. Though almost every one of them seethed with unspoken resentment.

Even Wei Yan himself merely rose silently, not a word escaping his lips.

Of course, he possessed ample reason for defense, ample reason for anger. Before the mist descended, he had pressed forward with courage. Facing the Nine Palaces Formation, he had been the first to charge in and break it. Upon beholding the Ghost Gate, he had taken the risk, burning his sole crimson warrant in that very instant.

One could argue from any perspective that he had exerted his utmost at this juncture, leaving no room for criticism.

Yet, achievement is achievement, and failure is failure. The military brooks no excuses.

Wei Qujia had bestowed upon him the authority to proceed to the Daoist Academy, to organize manpower and investigate Xiaolin Town, but he had failed to prevent the incident from occurring. This was dereliction of duty.

Wei Qujia could have even struck him dead on the spot.

But what would be the point?

Wei Qujia arrived in a fury and departed in wrath.

The young cultivators, some bearing the wounded, some supporting one another, others carrying the fallen, dispersed in this manner.

These young disciples of the Daoist Academy had just endured a bloody and tragic battle, a battle incredibly arduous, which ultimately proved to be utterly futile.

From beginning to end, they hadn’t even known who their adversary was, yet the opponent had already achieved their goal and vanished.

They were branded—useless.

…

“Truly… unwilling.”

Du Yehuhu lay sprawled across his dormitory bed, resembling an iron tower laid low.

He hadn’t sustained any grievous injuries, and the damage to his foundation had been compensated by the Solid Yuan Pill sent by Zhao Rucheng, though it would require some time to recuperate.

The Solid Yuan Pill was indeed a precious item, but there was no harm in accepting it. It just so happened that Du Yehuhu needed it, and it just so happened that Zhao Rucheng possessed it, and so it was. They were the kind of individuals who could entrust their lives to one another, let alone anything else.

But the battle in Xiaolin Town, to be honest, was a blow to every Daoist Academy disciple who had participated. For anyone who aspired to transcend and yearned for strength, being rendered helpless was probably the worst possible feeling.

Perhaps only Zhao Rucheng was an exception. He had already departed for “recuperation” at the Fragrant Building, purportedly to win the heart of a beauty with his valiant, near-death state.

Du Yehuhu was not one to lie still, but at this moment, he could only recline. No one was willing to indulge his drinking. Therefore, he was, uncharacteristically, a little melancholic.

Ling He remained silent, eyes closed in meditation.

As for Jiang Wang… he was presently dining, with Jiang An’an.

Cai Ji’s Mutton Shop, a century-old establishment.

Two bowls of fragrant mutton soup, ten catties of meticulously sliced white-cut mutton.

Jiang An’an held a steamed bun in her left hand and chopsticks in her right… chopsticks holding mutton. The choice of the word “holding” was intentional, as her grasp of chopsticks was indeed unconventional—perhaps no one had ever corrected her—she simply held them with her five fingers encircling them.

Having lived with Jiang Wang for an extended period, she was no longer as introverted and timid as she had been initially.

She took a bite on the left, then a bite on the right. As she ate, she would occasionally lean forward to take a sip of the soup before her. Two shallow dimples graced her face, expressing immense satisfaction.

Cai Ji’s Mutton Shop was not inexpensive. Were it just Jiang Wang himself, he might not have been willing to dine here.

In the Xiaolin Town mission, though Wei Yan himself suffered a setback, he still fulfilled his promise to secure twenty Dao Merit points for each of them, and naturally, there were also some silver subsidies. For cultivators, this was the least important matter. But for Jiang An’an, being able to eat delicious food was of paramount importance.

“Do you like it?” Jiang Wang asked with a smile.

“Mm… yes!” An’an nodded vigorously.

“In the future, every month…” Jiang Wang silently calculated his savings, “No, every ten days, we can come and eat once, alright?”

Jiang An’an continued to nod.

She conversed with her brother in a sporadic manner—most of the time, she merely nodded or shook her head to convey her response, her small hands never idle. While nodding, she would grab a piece of mutton, carefully roll it in the dipping sauce, and then stuff it into her mouth in a single, full bite.

“An’an, how has your homework been these past few days?” Perhaps when conversing with children, all adults eventually steered the topic to this point. Jiang Wang felt he was an adult, so he also naturally inquired. Though he was only a seventeen-year-old youth.

Jiang An’an paused her eating, her little mouth bulging. It took her a long time to finally squeeze out a sentence, “It’s, it’s okay.”

Jiang Wang nodded with satisfaction.

He gazed at his sister, and a kind of slowly flowing, happy peace settled in his heart. The hardships of battle, the sorrow of witnessing the death and injury of his fellow disciples, the sense of powerlessness in being unable to prevent events from unfolding… all seemed to fade away.

Some things were, of course, deeply saddening, but before him, the life unfolding before him, how joyful it was.

It made one yearn to keep it forever.

…

Strolling within the Wang clan’s territory, exchanging greetings with clan members at every turn, Wang Changxiang remained calm and serene, just as he always was. Even the most demanding clan members couldn’t find a single flaw in him.

The Zhang, Fang, and Wang clans of Maple Forest City were roughly equal in strength in all aspects, making it difficult to distinguish their superiority. However, with Zhang Linchuan now ranked third on the Dao Merit Ranking, the Zhang clan held a slight edge. Wang Changxiang of the Wang clan was seventh on the Dao Merit Ranking, so he was not at a disadvantage.

Only the Fang clan. The previous generation’s genius had perished in a trial, and the most outstanding member of this generation, Fang Pengju, had been killed. Now only Fang Heling remained, having barely managed to enter the inner gate with a Blood Meridian Pill acquired at great cost. But in the eyes of those with discerning sight, the Fang clan had already been left behind by the other two families.

These matters went unmentioned, and Wang Changxiang had never been willing to involve himself in worldly affairs. Although with his wisdom, he could see through the dirty greed behind those enthusiastic faces, he had always remained indifferent.

The path he walked, the further he went, the more it diverged.

He finally stopped before a half-dilapidated small courtyard. This was a remote corner of the Wang clan’s territory, with almost no one living nearby. The owner of the courtyard was like a lone bird separated from its flock.

Wang Changxiang reached out and pushed open the door. The wooden door creaked, disturbing the tranquility of the courtyard.

Unlike the mottled and half-dilapidated exterior wall, the courtyard was unexpectedly clean and exquisite. A grape trellis had been constructed on the left, raised high, and on the trellis rested a rocking chair polished smooth with time. The rocking chair was unoccupied, but a fat tabby cat lay upon it.

It was not startled by the arrival of people, merely half-opening its sleepy eyes and glancing listlessly.

“Little Orange,” Wang Changxiang greeted.

The fat orange cat turned its head, closed its eyes once more, and indeed appeared disdainful.

Wang Changxiang was not annoyed and continued to walk forward. On the front right, there was a large water tank, and lotus leaves floated within it. Bubbles could be seen from time to time, indicating that fish were likely kept within.

At this moment, his steps halted, for he caught the scent of cooking.

Almost simultaneously, the Little Orange on the rocking chair also stood up and turned its head, its movements a seamless flow.

Before the main hall, beneath the eaves, sat a low table. At this moment, a young man emerged from behind the door, and the fragrance emanated from the plate he carried.

His face was not handsome, nor could it be called ugly, but it inexplicably gave people a sense of “distance.” Perhaps it was due to those overly plain eyes.

The young man with an aloof demeanor knelt down and placed the dishes from the plate onto the low table one by one. There were two bowls of white, full rice, two plates of green vegetables, and two plates of braised, tender pork trotters.

The man sat on the threshold, took out chopsticks, tapped the table with the end of the chopsticks, and said, “Eat.”

Wang Changxiang did not move, for he knew he was not being addressed, though he genuinely wished to go over and share this meal.

With a “whoosh,” the orange cat, with a speed utterly disproportionate to its body shape, darted to the low table. It first lowered its head and sniffed before the plate of pork trotters, and then seemed somewhat satisfied, placing its front paws on the low table and beginning to eat.

Wang Changxiang opened his mouth: “Brother.”

Perhaps only a few remembered. Wang Changxiang, the current pride of the Wang clan, also had a biological brother.

In fact, he was the eldest son of the Wang clan’s direct line, the most rightful heir to the patriarch according to the clan rules.

But regrettably, he was also a useless individual who had wasted a precious Blood Meridian Pill and was unable to manifest the Dao Meridian. This had subjected the Wang clan to ridicule, placing them a head lower than the other two clans.

The shame of the Wang clan, Wang Changji.