Chapter 24: The Rogue Taoist of the Tempest

"Set out!"

At the Seventh Elder’s command, the group departed the marketplace in grand procession, heading southeast toward the Yan family’s ancestral lands.

“Old Li, how do you feel? We’re almost at our Yan family’s estate. Are you excited?”

“I have to say, Old Li is truly outstanding among the miscellaneous workers in the market. Imagine, even as a menial worker, you’ve managed to worm your way into the Yan family. That’s some luck!”

...

At the very front rode the Seventh Elder, Yan Hongsheng, astride a unicorn spirit beast the size of a water buffalo—unknown to Li Ji’an, but unmistakably radiating a powerful magical aura.

It was certainly no ordinary spirit steed used merely for travel.

Behind him were three ornate carriages drawn by spirit beasts. Yan Qingwan was seated in the first, Master Mo the Alchemist in the second, and the third was stacked high with medicinal ingredients and pills from the apothecary—fifteen low-grade storage pouches barely sufficed to contain it all.

Surrounding the carriages were the clan’s bodyguards who had accompanied Yan Hongsheng.

As for the original apothecary staff, including the steward Yan Tong, they brought up the rear on two large carts.

Li Ji’an paid no heed to the slightly envious chatter of some workers; instead, he quietly extended his spiritual senses, careful not to draw attention.

Aside from Yan Hongsheng, whose cultivation at the ninth level of Qi Refinement was well known, the other ten were all at intermediate stages, each at least fifth level—a solid core strength for the clan.

In his four years in the marketplace, Li Ji’an understood that this was considered a formidable force in the region.

It showed just how much the Yan family valued Master Mo.

“Old Li, you can close your eyes and rest. We’ll reach the estate in less than two hours,” Yan Tong offered kindly.

He’d been deeply unsettled earlier that day to learn Chen Qingling’s elder brother was a half-step late-stage body cultivator. Though he was nominally of the Yan family, and they wouldn’t overtly allow outsiders to insult them, if someone were to act in the shadows, the family might not risk a confrontation for his sake.

So, Yan Tong was sincerely grateful to Li Ji’an.

“Thank you, Steward, but I’m not really tired,” Li Ji’an replied with a pleasant nod.

“If you’re not sleepy, perhaps I should explain some of the clan’s rules. It’s best to know them; a careless mistake could lead to lasting regret.” This, after all, was Yan Tong’s real intention—a way to repay a debt of gratitude.

“Then I’ll trouble you for your guidance!” Li Ji’an accepted the offer.

In truth, the three years spent in close company with Yan Qingwan had already given him a general understanding of the Yan family.

Founded less than five centuries ago by an ancestor who was a solitary cultivator with no support, the family seized the opportunity during the land rush, risking their lives with his sons to establish a foothold for their descendants.

After three generations of hard struggle, they finally produced a Foundation Establishment patriarch, earning their place as one of the Eight Great Families.

Moreover, the Yan family’s cohesion remained strong, and their pioneering spirit had not waned; internal strife was rare.

Yet as Yan Tong explained in detail, Li Ji’an realized that information from Yan Qingwan differed greatly from what Yan Tong described.

The reason was simple: different positions, different perspectives.

Yan Qingwan had shared the view from the upper levels—the politics and strategies—while Yan Tong spoke of life at the bottom, the daily reality of cultivation among ordinary clan members.

“Old Li, there’s something I’m not sure I should say…” After describing the lower ranks, Yan Tong lowered his voice.

Sensing his caution, Li Ji’an glanced at the group ahead, then looked back at Yan Tong with mild exasperation.

Those at the front were all high-level cultivators with powerful spiritual senses—what use was lowering one’s voice?

But he couldn’t really blame Yan Tong; as an early-stage cultivator, his spiritual sense was weak and he hadn’t yet mastered silent transmission.

“Please, Steward, I’m listening.”

“Good. Today, once you enter the clan, your life’s trajectory will change completely. The past can be forgotten. But your spiritual root is poor and you’re too old. Whether in terms of clan identity or future potential, you won’t be nurtured. I advise you not to hope for more.

Sometimes, one must accept fate—don’t delude yourself, and don’t aim too high. People like us must recognize our limits.

Instead of struggling fruitlessly, it’s wiser to accept reality early and create better conditions for the next generation.

My suggestion: once you join the clan, start seeking a wife or concubine and prepare to continue your line. Only by marrying within the clan can you truly secure your place here.”

Li Ji’an nodded slowly and offered a respectful salute. “Thank you for your counsel, Steward.”

He understood that Yan Tong was genuinely looking out for him; from what he knew, Yan Tong had followed this exact path himself.

Still, whether it was Zhang Tiezhu urging him to fight and take risks, or Yan Tong advising him to accept reality and plan for the long term, neither path suited him.

At the same time, Yan Hongsheng at the front of the procession smiled approvingly, quite satisfied with the advice Yan Tong was giving Li Ji’an.

Three years of alchemy had made Li Ji’an known among the Yan family elders. They had long ago promised Yan Qingwan that, no matter what, Li Ji’an would be allowed to retire peacefully within the family.

Yan Qingwan, too, had listened to Yan Tong’s words with a nod of satisfaction.

During their three years together, she’d developed a good impression of Li Ji’an—more than that, in fact. Setting aside his lack of cultivation potential, his temperament was calm as still water, his demeanor mature and steady, his words honest and at times wittily humorous. Most important, his gaze was clear.

He also assisted her with alchemy with great dedication and care.

At times, she even felt Master Mo’s guidance couldn’t compare to Li Ji’an’s insight.

It was only a pity he was older and had little potential; otherwise, she might have considered introducing her cousin to him.

Now, Yan Tong’s suggestion gave her new ideas—if Li Ji’an’s children showed promise, she would be willing to offer them extra support, fulfilling her commitment to him.

Just after expressing his gratitude to Yan Tong, Li Ji’an suddenly sensed a faint, elusive aura.

Three years ago, after Yan Qingwan taught him the method to refine his spiritual sense, he realized his first-level spiritual sense was even stronger than hers at sixth level.

Now, after three more years, his understanding of spiritual sense had grown clear—he knew his own sense was nearly at the peak of the Qi Refinement stage.

He guessed that after the next “return to youth,” his soul might condense into true spiritual consciousness—greatly increasing his safety during childhood.

“Old Li, what’s wrong?” Yan Tong asked, noticing Li Ji’an’s sudden grave expression.

Li Ji’an replied with some concern, “Could the Wei family ambush Master Mo en route?”

Yan Tong burst out laughing. “Old Li, you don’t really know our Seventh Elder. He’d welcome them coming to die.”

“Oh?”

“The Seventh Elder is the strongest in our family below the patriarch, and the greatest headache for the surrounding seven families. Since childhood, he’s loved heroics and fighting for justice, earning him the nickname ‘The Roaring Daoist.’

Do you know why? He can stir up a three-foot wave without wind!”

As Yan Tong chuckled, a buzzing sound suddenly filled the air.

“Enemy attack!” someone at the front called out.

“Hmph! Excellent timing,” Yan Hongsheng laughed instead of growing angry. With a slap to his storage pouch, a purple-gold Xuantian Hammer shot into the sky.

In a flash, golden light spread, forming a giant net a hundred yards across, descending upon them.

“Mere tricks—show yourselves!” Yan Hongsheng shouted, transforming into a streak of fire to dodge the golden net with ease, and called out into the distance.

Meanwhile, his unicorn spirit beast released a shimmering aura that enveloped the three carriages.

The other cultivators immediately surrounded Master Mo’s and Yan Qingwan’s carriages, focusing their protection.

“Yan Hongsheng, you’ve fallen into our trap!”