Chapter 90 A Chance Encounter
Chen Chang'an gazed at the distant gray horizon, sighing softly: "This place, no wonder they call it Ghost Prefecture. Truly so desolate even ghosts wouldn't bother coming."
He flew for who knows how long before finally spotting an inn ahead—a weathered sign hung crookedly, the three characters "Wang Yue Lou" long faded, nearly worn away by wind and sand.
Outside the inn, messy fodder and broken barrels lay piled. A few scrawny wild dogs lingered nearby, merely lifting their eyelids lazily at his approach.
Chen Chang'an immediately descended, regretting his decision. Had he known it would be like this, he should have flown north instead.
But an inn was better than nothing. An inn meant people, people meant gossip, and he might overhear useful news—far better than wandering aimlessly.
With that thought, Chen Chang'an pushed the door open.
Unexpectedly, the interior was surprisingly tidy.
Several elm tables gleamed from polishing, and the floor lacked the imagined dust clouds. Scattered patrons sat in small groups, speaking in low voices, occasionally accompanied by the crisp clink of bowls and chopsticks.
Chen Chang'an chose a window seat and sat. The waiter hurried over enthusiastically, only to freeze momentarily before quickly lowering his head, not daring to look again: "Honored guest, what would you like?"
"Your best signature dish." Chen Chang'an paid no mind to the waiter's expression, casually tossing out a low-grade spirit stone. "Keep the change."
The waiter's eyes lit up as he nodded repeatedly: "Right away! Please wait!"
While waiting for his food, Chen Chang'an scanned the inn's patrons.
Few guests were present, but two at the neighboring table stood out—a woman entirely enveloped in a black cloak, revealing only a pale chin. Her fingertips lightly traced the teacup's rim, movements elegant yet chilling.
Beside her, an elder in gray robes sat with eyes closed, face gaunt, his aura profound and unfathomable like an ancient well.
Of course, the "people" here clearly didn't include himself.
Hmm, a late Profound Connection Realm young lady and a Longevity Realm cultivator.
Chen Chang'an mused internally. Probably an elder or protector figure.
Locals, perhaps?
A faint smile touched Chen Chang'an's lips as he picked up the freshly served hot tea for a sip.
Just then, the inn door swung open again, letting in a gust of cold wind.
Several cultivators in brocade robes strode in. The leading man had a sinister gaze; after scanning the room, he quickly spotted his target and walked briskly toward the back.
There, a young master in lavish robes sat leisurely sipping wine.
Chen Chang'an gave only a glance before losing interest. The young master had a pallid face, dark circles under his eyes—clear signs of indulgence—yet wore an arrogant expression.
His cultivation was merely early Object Control Realm.
Someone like that, unless a reincarnated great power, could never be the Child of Destiny in this lifetime.
Soon, the man seemed to receive some strange order and walked directly toward the black-robed woman's table.
"This lady, my young master invites you." His tone was arrogant as he reached to lift the woman's cloak hood.
The gray-robed elder remained with eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything.
A familiar scenario... Chen Chang'an swirled his teacup with interest, thinking: This meal won't be boring after all.
However—
Just as the brocade-robed man was about to touch the black-robed woman's cloak, a deliberate cough sounded from the inn's depths.
The man froze, turning to look—only to see the lavishly dressed young master frowning, shaking his head at him. Seeing the man still looked bewildered, the young master waved him over.
"Young Master?" The brocade-robed man quickly returned to his master's side, bending down to lean close.
The young master narrowed his eyes, lips moving as he whispered a few words.
The brocade-robed man first froze, then showed sudden realization. Next, his gaze turned maliciously toward Chen Chang'an's direction.
"..."
Chen Chang'an's face instantly darkened.
Only then did he remember that in his haste to travel here, he hadn't bothered to conceal his appearance—nearly forgetting this avatar was in female form.
But he never imagined he'd actually experience being harassed himself.
—There she sat, minding her own business, yet someone dared to target her!!?
The brocade-robed man strode over, knocking on her table condescendingly: "This lady, my young master invites you for a drink."
His tone was flippant, as if granting some great favor.
The inn quieted noticeably. Other patrons lowered their heads, pretending not to see—apparently that sickly young master held some influence here.
Chen Chang'an slowly set down his teacup, looking up at the man.
"Scram."
A single simple word, unfortunately delivered in a clear, melodious voice that, paired with his current exquisite appearance, carried no threat whatsoever.
Instead, it seemed to excite the other party.
The brocade-robed man forced a smile uglier than tears: "Little lady, don't be so cold. It's just a drink~"
He reached to grab her arm.
Slap!
A crisp sound rang out.
No one saw what happened—only that the brocade-robed man suddenly spun three times in place before crashing to the ground with a thud, half his face swollen, blood trickling from his lip.
"You—" He clutched his face, eyes wide with disbelief.
But before he could rise, a black shadow flashed before him like a ghost.
The black-robed woman now stood before Chen Chang'an's table. A snow-white wrist emerged from her cloak, fingertips tapping as a wisp of icy blue energy suddenly erupted!
"Ahhh—"
The brocade-robed man screamed as his entire arm instantly frosted over. His face turned blue as he scrambled backward on all fours.
The inn erupted in chaos, all staring in shock at the scene.
"Insolence!" The lavishly dressed young master slammed his fist on the table, face dark. "You dare lay hands on the Zhao family?!"
The black-robed woman lifted her cold gaze, eyes beneath the hood sharp as blades: "The Zhao family? Impressive?"
Before the words faded, she swept her sleeve, sending an invisible blast of wind!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The young master and his guards were all sent flying, crashing heavily against the walls in utter disarray.
"Scram." She uttered a single word, yet it carried undeniable authority.
The young master's face turned iron-gray. Struggling to rise, his eyes burned with venom: "Fine! Very fine! Just you wait!"
He led his men scrambling out of the inn, not forgetting to cast a lecherous glare at Chen Chang'an before leaving.
Only after they departed did the inn gradually return to calm.
The black-robed woman turned to Chen Chang'an, her tone slightly reproachful: "A young lady from a noble family like you, with no cultivation and no protection, shouldn't wander about alone."
Chen Chang'an blinked, momentarily at a loss whether to laugh or cry.
—After all, the valley was now not six thousand li away, but likely over ten thousand li distant. This avatar's cultivation had already recovered to Saint Realm peak.
Saint Realm peak represented ultimate control over his body and true energy—returning to simplicity made his aura resemble that of an ordinary mortal.
Still, he felt no rush to explain, instead studying her with interest: "Thank you for your assistance, miss. How may I address you?"
The black-robed woman paused briefly before saying coolly: "My name is Xiao Linger."
...
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