Chapter Twenty-Nine: My Heart, His Direction

The Xu family estate appeared more opulent than the Shen family’s, but the stone lions guarding the gate bore the marks of age and weathering. Inside, there was little greenery, no flowing water or artificial hills—only a sense of lavish grandeur remained, and Shen Lian felt an inexplicable restlessness in his heart.

His expression remained calm, betraying nothing. The Xu family had risen to prominence earlier, and their courtyard was vast, yet lacked any ingenious architecture, resembling the homes of ordinary wealthy families. The deeper he ventured into the Xu household, the more agitated he became, his mind repeatedly assailed by thoughts of treacherous undercurrents swirling in the air, like damp miasma continually encroaching upon him.

This heightened sensitivity was a result of his long practice of the “Celestial Purity Spirit Treasure Meditation,” which kept his mind clear and free of distractions. Thus, in the Xu family’s place, steeped in malevolent energy, he was all the more attuned to it. Most people, untrained in controlling their thoughts and desires, would hardly notice even if disturbed by evil spirits, their minds too chaotic and greedy to perceive such intrusions.

Before him stood a flower hall, where Shen Lian sat quietly. From the southeast, he seemed to see waves of black smoke billowing and swirling—not tangible smoke, but rather a vision conjured by his perception of the Xu family’s sinister aura. In truth, everything the human eye perceives passes through the mind’s filter, and thus differs slightly from reality. The true world is far more complex than what is seen or heard; even immortals and Buddhas cannot grasp it fully. Were all information to flood the heart at once, it would be unbearable. To observe with the mind, though incomplete, allows unique insights.

Xu Hong entered the flower hall, accompanied by a beautiful woman not yet thirty. She had a slender waist like a water snake, sharp shoulders, fair and smooth skin, and a look of spring in her features. Her eyes were like pools of clear water; her already lovely appearance was enhanced further by their charm.

Upon seeing Shen Lian, the handsome young gentleman, the woman’s beautiful eyes could not help but ripple with delight.

“Little Lian, you must have waited long—blame your aunt for that. She heard you were coming and spent ages dressing up. I said, ‘Little Lian is family, no need for such fuss,’ but she insisted, ‘Precisely because he’s family, we mustn’t be negligent,’” Xu Hong said, his face full of pride. Anyone would be pleased to have such a lovely wife.

He unconsciously ignored the matter of the Five-Tongued Spirit. With fragrant beauty approaching, Shen Lian felt no enjoyment, only deepening aversion, as the sinister aura from Yan was even stronger than Xu Hong’s.

Responding to Xu Hong and his wife with composed politeness, Shen Lian became more convinced that the evil spirit from that day resided within the Xu family.

Later, Shen Lian suddenly asked, “Uncle Xu, your home is indeed grand. When I entered just now, I was quite amazed. Yet I noticed that the southeast side seems deserted and unusually quiet.”

The southeast was precisely where he had sensed, in his mind’s vision, the densest concentration of black miasma, as if something monstrous were hidden there. Not only was there no human presence, but even birds avoided it; only the corner of a roof was visible, resembling a temple.

Yan’s beautiful face paled, and Xu Hong seemed surprised as well, thinking: Shen Lian has spent two years cultivating in the mountains; though young, could he already possess some spiritual ability, to have discovered the location of the Plague God?

He grew more certain that Shen Lian’s injury at the Shen home was connected to the Plague God, but Shen Lian was still so young—even after two years as a Daoist, he might not possess enough power to subdue the demon. Perhaps someone else was helping Shen Lian; Xu Hong decided to probe further. If Shen Lian truly had a master behind him who could rid the family of its dire threat, all the better.

“It’s simply that the house is too large and there aren’t enough people; the southeast has been left abandoned. If you’re curious, Little Lian, you can take a look after dinner,” Xu Hong replied with a smile.

Yan unconsciously gripped Xu Hong’s hand in anxiety, her brow beaded with fine, cold sweat.

Ultimately, Shen Lian did not go there immediately, and Xu Hong hosted him generously.

He did not exaggerate; the Xu family’s cuisine was indeed excellent. The same dish, with different knife skills, heat, and the freshness of the ingredients, could vary greatly in taste. Take the tender beef, for instance: only the finest cut was used, prepared with special methods to cleanse it of any bloodiness, the heat precisely controlled—too much and it would be tough, too little and it would be undercooked.

It melted in the mouth, leaving a lingering fragrance. Shen Lian, who had tasted much both in this life and the last, could not help but praise it.

And there was more than one fine dish.

Yan said, “Little Lian, why do you dine with a sword at your side? Isn’t it cumbersome?”

She had noticed the short sword, less than two feet long, hanging at Shen Lian’s waist, its scabbard a plain blue, unadorned and new-looking.

Xu Hong had noticed it long ago and prompted Yan to ask.

“It’s actually made of wood,” Shen Lian answered, taking the sword off and drawing it—indeed, it was a wooden sword, emitting faint sandalwood fragrance.

Yan covered her mouth and laughed, “So grown-up, yet you still carry toys.”

“A gentleman wears a sword; I merely follow the example of the sages,” Shen Lian replied, speaking with effortless grace and poise. His youthful, refined features only made Yan laugh all the more.

“My dear heart, what’s so amusing?” a sharp male voice rang out, instantly chilling the air in the hall, as if the temperature had dropped.

A handsome young scholar strode in, causing Yan’s face to lose all color. Xu Hong was stunned; he had not expected the Plague God to appear at this moment.

The young man, full of arrogance, wrapped an arm around Yan’s slender waist, kicked Xu Hong aside, and sat bold as brass at the table—not at all like a scholar, but more a bandit.

Despite the sudden upheaval, Shen Lian was neither startled nor afraid; his feeling of aversion had peaked.

“You may not know, but I truly dislike being disturbed while eating,” Shen Lian said calmly to the young man.

As for Xu Hong groaning on the floor and Yan’s terrified state, they did not affect him in the slightest.

In their dream encounter, victory or defeat was uncertain, for Shen Lian had held a considerable advantage then. Now, facing this evil spirit directly, what he felt was not pressure from the young man, but sheer disgust.

The aura emanating from this person was profoundly repellent.

A cultivator ought to keep his mind pure and clear, lest he fall into delusion and falsehood. The young man’s spirit was strong, but saturated with evil desire, his body constantly radiating chaotic, malicious thoughts.

Shen Lian could not fathom how this man had not yet succumbed to madness—his mind was clearly impure, yet he still maintained himself, not torn apart by his turbulent desires.

P.S. Thanks to Pursuing Heart 7243 for the generous reward of 20,000 Starting Coins, making you the first Hall Master of this book. I’ll update with more chapters for you when I have time in the next couple of days. Also, gratitude to Blowing Dance’s Glasses for the 1,888 reward, and to Long Ke for three 588 rewards.