NHWSG chapter 54

The hospitality of a hundred-year-old sect seemed very reliable.

Apart from Xing Yingzhu, even Hu Huanyang, a young fox, and Sheng Zhao, who was clearly just tagging along, received excellent treatment.

To Sheng Zhao’s surprise, the usually straightforward Xing Yingzhu showed rare patience this time, not rushing in to get things done, but instead following the arranged series of hospitality procedures, including “reception,” “inviting guests to dinner,” and “chatting.”

There weren’t many disciples in the Longhu lineage, totaling less than twenty. The oldest looked to be in his forties, and the youngest was Zhang Jian. Along the way, Sheng Zhao listened intentionally or unintentionally to their conversations and discovered that Zhang Jian and Zhang Chengde were actually grandfather and grandson.

No wonder Zhang Jian, at such a young age, could be internally designated as the successor.

“It’s very normal,” Hu Huanyang shook his head and said, “Xiao Zhao, you didn’t know? In other sects, the transmission of knowledge is from master to disciple, but not in their family. In addition to the master-disciple relationship, there’s also a family lineage, so the successive Celestial Masters in their family are all from the Zhang family lineage.”

“Doesn’t this count as pulling strings?” Sheng Zhao leaned close to Hu Huanyang’s ear and whispered, “Wouldn’t others feel it’s unfair?”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Hu Huanyang said, “Because in their family, only the main lineage can learn orthodox methods of inheritance— in other words, some techniques can only be used by the main lineage, so naturally, only this lineage can become the successor.”

“Is there such a restriction in metaphysics?” Sheng Zhao was very surprised and asked, “I thought it was all based on talent, like… some people have good talent, so they learn things faster.”

“Other families are like that, but not theirs,” Hu Huanyang whispered, “When we were in the Shanghai Development Zone, did you hear Zhang Jian chanting spells?”

Sheng Zhao recalled it vaguely. At that time, Zhang Jian chanted something long and difficult to pronounce, but he couldn’t hear it clearly.

Hu Huanyang glanced around, seeing that no one paid attention to them, so he quietly waved his hand at Sheng Zhao.

Sheng Zhao bent down slightly and approached him. He saw Hu Huanyang mysteriously block his arms, then rubbed his right hand against it, and magically produced a shiny little gold nugget out of thin air.

Sheng Zhao was extremely shocked by the spectacle.

Hu Huanyang, like a peacock displaying its feathers, winked at him flirtatiously for a while, then folded his hands together and rubbed them, and the gold nugget turned back into a small stone.

“Turning stone into gold,” Hu Huanyang said, “We monsters use this kind of little trick with just monster techniques. But for people like Zhang Jian, who are practitioners, it’s not the case. From major exorcisms to minor dispelling of evil spirits, they have to borrow divine power from heaven.”

Sheng Zhao always liked listening to these informative little lectures, so he became particularly engaged and asked eagerly, “How do they borrow it?”

“They use spells or talismans,” Hu Huanyang said, “Each family’s school of magic borrows from different entities, mostly their own ancestors or worshiped immortals— do you know who Zhang Jian’s family ancestor is?”

“Zhang Celestial Master?” Sheng Zhao asked.

Hu Huanyang gave him a look of teaching a child and then said, “In terms of seniority, that person is Zhang Jian’s great-great-grandancestor.”

Sheng Zhao understood in an instant— no wonder they had to rely on the main lineage, it indeed made things more convenient when dealing with family matters.

The two of them chattered away like two smart sparrows in the back, but Xing Yingzhu had keen senses. Despite their efforts to keep their voices as low as possible, Xing Yingzhu still heard them loud and clear.

Xing Yingzhu multitasked, walking with Zhang Chengde towards the inner courtyard of the back mountain while eavesdropping on Sheng Zhao’s side. Occasionally, he heard a few interesting sentences and couldn’t help but smile.

Longhu was divided into front and back mountains. The front mountain was a nationally designated open scenic area, while the back mountain was their own territory, off-limits to outsiders.

The juniors who had followed Zhang Chengde to welcome Xing Yingzhu gradually stopped in their tracks along the way. By the time they stepped onto the cable car heading towards the back mountain, only Zhang Jian remained by Zhang Chengde’s side.

It was evident that although Zhang Jian was young, his status in the mountain was not low. As they walked, they occasionally encountered some outer disciples dressed in plain clothes, most of whom would stop to bow to him.

The cable car connecting the front and back peaks had been reinforced. Perhaps because it was only for their own people, there was only one elongated and widened cable car hanging on it.

Sheng Zhao was quite disappointed when he followed Xing Yingzhu into the car. In his impression, places with such an ethereal atmosphere should be traversed directly by sword. Cable cars and the like seemed to lack the mystique.

To this, Xing Yingzhuo’s reaction was, “Watch fewer TV dramas.”

Sheng Zhao’s ears were almost calloused from hearing this sentence so many times, having developed an immunity to it, and it filtered through his ears.

Zhang Chengde chuckled and added, “Your imagination is rich, young friend, but unfortunately, mortals are too flesh-bound to fly with swords.”

Sheng Zhao didn’t mind embarrassing himself in front of Xing Yingzhu, but he felt a bit embarrassed in front of outsiders. He awkwardly smiled at the remark and brushed it off.

Little did he know that Xing Yingzhuo, for some reason, wanted to steal the spotlight at this moment—perhaps he thought Sheng Zhao was feeling lost or something, so he impatiently clicked his tongue and flicked Sheng Zhao’s chin.

“It’s not entirely impossible,” Xing Yingzhu said. “If you want, I can take you flying sometime.”

Sheng Zhao hadn’t cared much about this matter, but with Xing Yingzhu’s words, he suddenly became interested. Regardless of whether there were others present, his eyes lit up as he grabbed onto Xing Yingzhuo’s arm excitedly, asking, “Do you want to let me experience the feeling of flying?”

Xing Yingzhu was most pleased with the adoring look of wholehearted admiration from Sheng Zhao. Although he couldn’t help but raise the corners of his lips in response, he deliberately put on a reluctant look, as if he were doing it unwillingly.

Glancing at Sheng Zhao, he said, “We’ll see how you perform.”

Sheng Zhao smiled with narrowed eyes and patted him on the shoulder like a lackey.

“Got it, got it,” Sheng Zhao said earnestly. “The antibiotic ointment is still in my pocket.”

Xing Yingzhu: “…”

Xing Yingzhuo frowned, about to explode.

Sheng Zhao dared to tease him on a sensitive topic, he must have prepared his countermove long ago. Not perceiving his displeasure, Sheng Zhao quickly patted his clothes pocket and added, “Of course, I also brought several milk tea packets for you!”

Xing Yingzhu frowned disapprovingly, weighed his options for a moment, and finally just hmphed unhappily, removing Sheng Zhao’s hand from his shoulder.

Sheng Zhao, playing with fire, managed to escape unscathed, but he found it amusing to provoke Xing Yingzhuo like this and didn’t notice that Hu Huanyang had already subtly moved to a corner of the cable car, wishing to be as far away from Xing Yingzhuo as possible.

However, Xing Yingzhu was all bark and no bite. Although his attitude was a hundred percent displeased, he didn’t actually erupt, and he couldn’t be bothered to even utter the standard threatening lines to Sheng Zhao.

Hu Huanyang nervously witnessed the whole process of Sheng Zhao escaping unscathed from provoking Xing Yingzhu and felt a surge of admiration for him.

—In the future, whoever dares to say that Xiao Zhao is an ordinary human who knows nothing, Hu Huanyang thought, with such audacity to seek trouble, it’s suggested to send them six blocks away.

As for Zhang Jian, he had already seen the intimate interaction between the two dog men during their time in Shanghai. Now, he remained calm, composed, and accepting, demonstrating a relaxed demeanor, as if Mount Tai could collapse in front of him without him batting an eye.

On the other hand, Zhang Chengde, with a pensive look, glanced at Sheng Zhao a few more times. However, in the end, he didn’t say anything and sat quietly in place, almost invisible if one didn’t look closely.

Twenty minutes later, the cable car stopped on the other side of the cableway, and Sheng Zhao stumbled off the car, steadying himself with Xing Yingzhu’s arm.

“Xiao Jian,” Zhang Chengde suddenly spoke after the silence.

Zhang Jian jumped off the cable car and walked to Zhang Chengde, bowing. “Master.”

“The weather is nice today, and it’s rare to make a trip. You can take the two honored guests around the mountain as you please,” Zhang Chengde said. “Don’t neglect them.”

Zhang Chengde’s words were clearly directed at Hu Huanyang and Sheng Zhao, indicating that he wanted to have a separate conversation with Xing Yingzhu. Sheng Zhao hadn’t expected to be separated from Xing Yingzhu as soon as they entered someone else’s territory. He subconsciously felt a bit uneasy and turned to look at Xing Yingzhu.

“I have something to discuss with him,” Xing Yingzhu said, using his fingertip to lift the necklace on Sheng Zhao’s neck and glancing at it. He then reassured him, “Don’t worry, go with Zhang Jian.”

This tone sounded too much like coaxing a child, making Sheng Zhao feel awkward for a moment. He originally wanted to retort, but when it came to his lips, he just nodded in agreement without saying anything.

“Please,” Zhang Jian gestured.

Xing Yingzhu walked eastward with Zhang Chengde, while Hu Huanyang and Sheng Zhao followed Zhang Jian down the western path.

Compared to the touristy vibe of the front mountain, the back mountain of Longhu could be described as low-key luxury. There were plenty of pavilions and towers in the mountains, all with a considerable amount of age, displaying an ancient and exquisite architecture, completely different from the flashy modern style of the front.

However, after so many days of almost always being with Xing Yingzhu, Sheng Zhao found it a bit strange to suddenly be separated. He would subconsciously look back frequently, trying to search for Xing Yingzhu’s figure within his line of sight.

“Xing Yingzhu hasn’t set foot in Longhu for over three hundred years,” Zhang Jian said. “He’s just a guest here to chat. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Sheng Zhao awkwardly coughed and insisted, “I was just looking at that building behind… it looks quite nice.”

In a sense, Zhang Jian was relatively straightforward. He followed Sheng Zhao’s finger direction and turned his head. He saw half of a bluish-gray roof vaguely revealed in a nearby mountain hollow. That place was very remote, with most of the building obscured by trees. It was fortunate that Sheng Zhao had keen eyesight to spot the structure with just a glance.

“There—,” Zhang Jian paused, subconsciously glanced at Hu Huanyang, and then said, “That’s the Fox Immortal Temple.”