Volume 1, Chapter 31: Intentions

Inside Pink Tone Lake, Xingtian Dafeng, Xingtian Xuanzhi, their brothers, and the boss, Hei Mingsen, watched in a mix of amusement and exasperation as a few fierce women revived the girl who had been knocked out by Xiahou. Hei Mingsen's face contorted as if he had swallowed a mouthful of bird droppings. "Amazing! In my Pink Tone Lake, men usually carry the girls to bed. But today, someone found my girls so rough they used their fists on them instead."

Laughter erupted among the crowd. Some suggested Hei Mingsen bring out his best beauties to entertain the guests. Others speculated if the brute Baolong might have some innate dysfunction. How else could he knock out such delicate beauties and then sneak away?

The commotion was in full swing when Xiahou, drenched in sweat, returned with Bai. Ignoring the varied looks from everyone, Xiahou directly asked Xingtian Dafeng, "I knocked out the Anyi Magistrate's daughter, and Bai almost killed his son. Is there going to be trouble?"

Xingtian Dafeng and his brothers exchanged glances, staring at Xiahou for a while. This guy was certainly a troublemaker. How long had he been in Anyi, and already so much chaos? Xingtian Dafeng regretted thinking, "Great, more trouble. Did I make a mistake? Maybe Baolong shouldn't leave the new training camp yet. He needs to learn more before staying in Anyi, or I won't be able to handle the constant trouble."

After a moment, Xingtian Dafeng finally said, dryly, "No problem. Zhong Tianhou is an in-law of the Xingtian family. His eldest son is our cousin. A mere Anyi Magistrate, though titled a local lord, holds no real power. I'll go explain it another day, and it'll be fine."

Xiahou laughed heartily but noticed Hei Mingsen's unfriendly glare. His eyes darted around before he exclaimed, "Strange! I just went out to relieve myself, lost my way back, and ended up on the main street. But how did these girls get knocked out? Odd, odd. Jealousy should lead to men fighting, not hitting women. That's just disgraceful."

Hei Mingsen's brows furrowed in anger as he watched the dazed girls get up. He fumed internally, "Fine, a brute is a brute. Why bother with him? These delicate girls are clearly too much for him. Next time, I'll find some muscular women from the south for him." He chuckled maliciously at the thought, imagining Xiahou preferring women who could run horses on their arms and punch a cow to death.

Seeing Hei Mingsen's strange laugh, others joined in cluelessly. Thus, Xiahou's incident of knocking out the girls and sneaking away was brushed off. Only Xiahou felt a sense of impending doom from Hei Mingsen's peculiar smile.

The Day After the Celebration

In the side courtyard of the Xingtian residence, there stood a finely crafted pavilion. Dozens of ancient pines and cypresses lined the entrance, creating a rustling sound as the wind blew through. Despite the intense sunlight, the pavilion's yard remained shaded and cool. Small springs trickled beneath the trees, their water flowing through bamboo pipes into a corner pond. A few fish swam gracefully in the pond, occasionally splashing and startling the floating duckweed.

The pavilion wasn't large, with just five small rooms on the ground floor. The central hall was flanked by a study, a sword room, an alchemy room, and a music room. A bamboo staircase led to the second floor, where all the partitions had been removed to create one large bedroom. The newly constructed bed still emitted the fresh scent of pine resin and was five times the size of a regular bed—large enough for a cow to roll around on.

The alchemist Cang Feng, whom Xiahou had ordered to be taken away, lay on this enormous bed, his chest rising and falling gently, showing he was still alive.

Two young boys in green robes knelt on the floor, carefully fanning a small fire beneath a bronze cauldron adorned with beast patterns. The cauldron held a thick, pitch-black medicinal brew that bubbled and boiled. The room was filled with a rich, invigorating aroma. Wisps of white mist rose from the concoction, swirling through the air like living creatures.

The furnace wasn't very large, but the wood burning inside was incredibly hot, and the heat was intense. The two young boys were drenched in sweat, panting heavily. Finally, when a faint red glow appeared on the surface of the black medicinal liquid, they sighed in relief. One of them pulled out a small vial from his robe and poured its contents into the bronze cauldron. The clear liquid met the black potion with a loud bang, causing it to boil violently. As the liquid reduced, the white vapor in the air was reabsorbed into the cauldron.

In the blink of an eye, only a thick, finger-deep layer of translucent ointment remained at the bottom of the cauldron. The ointment was so hot that the air above it shimmered.

The boys carefully used iron tongs to lift the cauldron and carried it to the bedside. Without a word, they stripped Cang Feng and poured the hot ointment onto his body. The ointment, still glowing red, hissed as it met his skin, making a sound like frying rats. Cang Feng, unconscious until then, suddenly opened his eyes and let out a blood-curdling scream. His muscles spasmed as he leapt up.

The ointment absorbed instantly into his skin, transferring its intense, pig-roasting heat inside. White steam escaped from Cang Feng's pores, turning his skin as red as a boiled shrimp.

Naked, Cang Feng screamed and danced around the wooden floor, howling like a shaman from Xiahou's village. The pain was unbearable as the ointment's heat penetrated his organs, making him feel like he was burning from the inside out. Even with his fortified soul, the agony was too much to bear.

"Argh!" With a roar, Xiahou and Bai burst in through the window, smashing the panes to pieces. They weren't the type to enter gracefully. Seeing Cang Feng's red, steaming body jumping around, Xiahou angrily shouted at the boys, "Are you trying to kill him? What did you give him to make him look like a roasted pig?"

Cang Feng, despite his pain, managed to retort, "Who are you calling a pig? Do I look like a pig to you?" He touched his body and exclaimed in surprise, "Strange! My injuries are all healed? I thought you broke at least a dozen of my bones, but everything's fixed! Even my damaged meridians are restored."

The boys, kneeling and bowing to Xiahou, said, "Sir Chihu, this is the 'Heaven Mending Ointment' from the grandmaster's pharmacy, excellent for all internal and external injuries. It took us a whole day and night to brew it properly. We didn't act recklessly."

Xiahou chuckled, walked over, and gave one of the boys a heavy pat on the shoulder. "I wronged you. Thanks for taking care of this poor guy these past few days. You can go rest now; I need to talk to Mr. Cang Feng."

The boys obediently bowed again, nursing their sore shoulders as they yawned and went downstairs.

Cang Feng quickly donned a black robe left by the bedside. Bai, meanwhile, jumped onto the bed, sprawling out comfortably and immediately started snoring. Cang Feng shook his head at Bai, then turned and bowed to Xiahou. "Sir Chihu, I am deeply grateful for your assistance. I will surely repay this kindness in the future."

Xiahou sat down on a specially reinforced chair, waved his hand grandly, and said, "Meeting is fate, and fate makes us friends. Friends are like brothers. As your brother, I couldn't just leave you to die on the training ground, could I?"

Cang Feng felt dizzy. He wasn't sure how he became Xiahou's brother, but shrugged it off. After all, this big man had saved his life, and he owed him a debt of gratitude. He bowed again, "Sir Chihu, I am truly grateful. I came down the mountain to set up a dojo in Anyi on the orders of my master, but I have achieved nothing and feel deeply ashamed."

He shook his head and sighed, "It seems I am indeed weak and unworthy. I should return to the mountain, admit my failure to my master, and focus on my training." Reflecting on how Xiangliu Rou, whom he served, ignored him after his defeat, Cang Feng felt a profound sense of enlightenment. His experiences had greatly increased his understanding of the world.

Xiahou was thrilled. Words like "magical power" and "cultivation" were his old trade, terms he hadn't heard in years. In this life, all he heard about was the strength of sorcery and the intensity of physical power. If not for the golden core still spinning in his dantian, he might have forgotten he was once a cultivator.

He immediately asked, "Mr. Cang Feng, may I know which sect you belong to?"

Asking this question made Xiahou feel relieved, but also anxious.

For some reason, Xiahou had a strange feeling. If this Da Xia, with myths and legends identical to what he knew, was indeed the same Da Xia, then Cang Feng the alchemist's origin might be exactly what Xiahou suspected.

But if Cang Feng's sect was indeed what Xiahou thought it was, what should he do?

Cang Feng solemnly bowed, respectfully looked up at the sky, and said, "Sir Chihu, you may not know this, but the most powerful force in Da Xia is the Wu Sect. All other sects are seen as heretical by them. Thus, I ask that you keep the name of my sect confidential."

With a bitter smile, Cang Feng continued, "The creatures born with intelligence often serve the Wu Sect. In Anyi City alone, tens of thousands of such creatures serve the great Wu families. Several sects of demonic cultivation openly recruit disciples here. However, my sect remains aloof, not serving the Wu Sect, which does not endear us to them. My coming to Anyi to establish a dojo was merely a test."

Xiahou understood. These alchemists did not heed the Da Xia court's summons and cultivated independently, naturally falling out of favor. They might even be discriminated against by the ruling class. Cang Feng's attempt to establish a dojo in Anyi and his approach through the Xiangliu family was indeed a trial.

If Anyi tolerated alchemists recruiting disciples or if they could do so under the protection of a noble family, it would be beneficial to grow their strength. But if problems arose, displeasing the Wu Sect, as long as their sect remained hidden, the Wu would have no recourse. Cang Feng's insistence on secrecy likely stemmed from this.

Cang Feng spoke slowly, "My sect hails from the eastern ocean."

Xiahou felt a mix of joy and disappointment, nodding, "Oh, from the ocean, not the mountains. Alright."

Cang Feng looked at Xiahou, blinked, and added, "However, my two grandmasters reside in the mountains."

Xiahou's face twitched as he awkwardly asked, "So, may I know the name of your esteemed sect?"

Pride, respect, and a touch of reverence lit up Cang Feng's face, invigorating him. "My master is the Celestial Lord of Biyou Palace on Golden Turtle Island in the eastern ocean. My two grandmasters are the Supreme Elder of Kunlun and the Prime Elder. Our lineage traces back to the ancestral sage, Hongjun. Sir Chihu, are you alright? You seem unwell."

Xiahou felt as if thousands of lightning bolts struck his head, leaving him utterly bewildered.

If the Nine Cauldrons had only transported him to another planet, he might hope to return home by cultivating to the legendary level, breaking through the void. Observing the stars and constellations similar to those he remembered from his previous life, he thought that if he was on another planet, it couldn't be far from Earth, giving him hope of returning.

But hearing names like Celestial Lord, Supreme Elder, and Prime Elder from Cang Feng crushed him with despair.

One could overcome spatial distances, but what about time?

Da Xia was the end of myths and the beginning of recorded history. After the fall of Xia, ancient Chinese mythology ceased, and written history began. Was he thrown by the Nine Cauldrons into an era so far back that no written records existed?

Cang Feng cautiously approached Xiahou, whose face had turned pale, and gently patted his cheek, "Sir Chihu? Brother Chihu? Are you alright?"

Bai also cautiously approached, tugging at Xiahou's ear with his paw. When Xiahou didn't respond, Bai's fierce nature resurfaced, and he slapped Xiahou hard across the face. With a crisp smack, sparks flew from Xiahou's cheek as he yelled and jumped up.

Cang Feng watched in shock as Bai's paw met Xiahou's face, producing sparks. He quickly retreated, unwilling to experience Bai's strength firsthand. As an alchemist, he was physically fragile, no match for the inhuman strength of the Wu.

Xiahou let out a roaring laugh, looking up to the sky, "Damn it, no matter where I am now, since I'm here, I must find a way back. Return! Return! Haha, Zhongyuan Jiuzhou, Great Xia Dynasty, the Nine Cauldrons, I should have realized this earlier. This is indeed that Great Xia! So why hold onto false hope? No matter what, I must stay alive, survive, and return!" At the brink of despair, hope surged within Xiahou once more.

With a gleam in his eye, Xiahou, filled with intense resolve, knelt before Cang Feng with an almost predatory gaze, pleading loudly, "Master Cang Feng, please have mercy and accept me as your disciple!"

It would be so worth it!

In his past life, the special instructors at the Special Affairs Bureau were all descendants of the Kunlun sect, countless generations removed from the original patriarchs. And now, Cang Feng was a direct disciple of the Celestial Lord! The seniority! If this Celestial Lord was indeed the one Xiahou thought, the prospect was exhilarating, nearly making him burst into song!

To apprentice under the Celestial Lord's disciple and potentially learn profound Taoist arts far surpassing his current semi-comprehended Xuanwu techniques, combined with his formidable sorcerer's power, he might actually use the Nine Cauldrons to return home!

Giggling and laughing, he imagined returning with some token to prove his newfound status and seniority. Those usually aloof guest instructors would have to bow to him! But this required confirmation that this place was indeed the mythical Great Xia of Chinese history. Xiahou was 90% certain his assumptions were correct, based on all the evidence gathered since arriving in Anyi.

Everything pointed to this being the lost Great Xia Dynasty from Chinese history, a civilization leaving no records behind. After all, the Nine Cauldrons smuggled out of China wouldn't have sent him just anywhere.

As for why Great Xia's productivity was so high and its land so vast, these were mysteries Xiahou would uncover. The intensive training from his previous life had endowed Xiahou with immense resilience and an exceptionally thick-skinned mentality.

Regardless of the situation, the goal of returning home was deeply ingrained in Xiahou's heart.

Cang Feng, however, was taken aback by Xiahou's fervor, repeatedly shaking his head, "Please, don't embarrass me. I am not worthy of taking on a disciple. Brother Chihu, this is not right. I just lost to you; how can I dare accept you as my disciple?"

Despite his words, Cang Feng felt a surge of joy. It seemed fate favored the expansion of his sect. Here was a sorcerer, upon hearing of his sect, eager to join. Moreover, Cang Feng knew of Xiahou's connection to the powerful Xingtian family. Having their support in Anyi would be far more advantageous than relying on the Xiangliu family. After all, most of Anyi's military forces were essentially the Xingtian family's private army.

Still, Cang Feng couldn't bring himself to accept Xiahou as a disciple. It was too embarrassing, having just lost to him.

Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Cang Feng said, "Brother Chihu, you need not bow to me. If you truly wish to join our sect, I can introduce you to a master with greater skills."

Xiahou's eyes lit up, and he stood up immediately, staring intently at Cang Feng, "Really?"

Cang Feng nodded earnestly, "No false words!"

Xiahou's heart soared with joy. It seemed his status could rise even higher. Solemnly, he said, "As an offering to join the sect, let me build a dojo for our sect in Anyi. I wonder if the cart of money Xingtian Dafeng promised me would suffice. But if a piece of original jade can buy a small city, it should be enough to buy a modest estate."

Cang Feng was equally pleased, immediately growing warmer towards Xiahou. The two chatted amicably, their friendship rapidly deepening.

Only Bai remained uninterested in their budding camaraderie, smacking his lips a few times before licking Xiahou's face with his long, red tongue and sprawling out on the bed to sleep. The past few days had been exhausting, with constant feasting and drinking alongside Xingtian Dafeng. Even the robust Bai found it hard to keep up.