At that moment, Cai Jinjian was retreating backward, but the instant her foot landed, she already sensed something amiss. Nothing could be more intolerable than stepping into dog excrement—except, of course, being caught in the act. And even more mortifying was having the onlookers openly declare that you had indeed stepped in it. Cai Jinjian was neither a frivolous woman nor a delicate heiress who shunned hardship. As one of the numerous scions of the Yunxia Mountain sect leader, her emergence victorious and securing the final spot spoke volumes about her resilience.
Yunxia Mountain comprised eighteen peaks, perpetually shrouded in mist. It was famed for its Yun Gen stone, an indispensable ingredient for the Taoist alchemists of the Dan Ding sect to forge external elixirs—celebrated for its flawless purity and unparalleled rarity. Hence, the inhabitants of Yunxia Mountain upheld a strict code of cleanliness and simplicity, many even bordering on fastidiousness, and Cai Jinjian was no exception.
Had it not been for the overwhelming entanglements of this small town, Cai Jinjian would never have set foot here—let alone tread step by step through a filthy alley smeared with chicken droppings and dog feces. The most humiliating part was that, upon arrival, these exalted immortals found themselves like stranded fish, suddenly bereft of all their support. The clans that once dominated their own paradisiacal realms, wielding mystical powers to move mountains, command winds, exorcise demons, and control spirits, were now utterly powerless.
And thus, the infamous scene of Cai Jinjian stepping in dog dung came to pass.
Fu Nanhua had found it amusing at first—immaculate Lady Cai of Yunxia Mountain, sullied by a sticky, foul pile of dog excrement. Who would believe such a tale? But the next moment, his voice turned grave: "Cai Jinjian, stop immediately!"
From atop a mud wall, Song Jixin's pupils contracted sharply as he clenched the jade dragon pendant in his palm. In the narrow alley, Cai Jinjian suddenly closed the gap, standing before Chen Ping'an. Her hand, as lustrous and flawless as white jade, struck swiftly towards the youth's forehead. Yet, at Fu Nanhua's urgent interruption, she halted, then gently tapped down in an affectionate gesture akin to an elder indulging a younger relative. Bowing slightly, she gazed into the boy's eyes—clear and fathomless as a pristine spring, where she could almost see her own reflection. Yet her mood was bitter; with a forced smile, she said, "Little one, I know you deliberately slowed your words."
Fu Nanhua exhaled in relief. Had Cai Jinjian truly dared to kill here outright, she would likely be expelled from the town, turning Yunxia Mountain into a laughingstock. His face darkened as he warned her in refined, official tones: "Cai Jinjian, reconsider your actions. If you persist in such rashness, I will have no choice but to abandon our alliance. I cannot afford to have you squander our efforts in vain."
Without facing the young master of Old Dragon City, Cai Jinjian murmured swiftly, "The noble see Buddha swiftly; the base see Buddha late... Truly, there is a pure land; truly, there is a lotus pond..." Then she turned apologetically to Fu Nanhua. "I lost my composure. I assure you, nothing like this will happen again."
Fu Nanhua sneered, "Are you certain?"
Cai Jinjian simply smiled, dismissing his doubts. She lowered her gaze to the straw-shod youth and spoke quietly in the prevalent refined tongue of the province: "Our Yunxia Mountain traces its origins to one of the Five Buddhist Sects, emphasizing the subjugation of the restless mind and taming the wild heart. Yet before coming here, I barely understood what those meant. My elders never rushed me, allowing me to explore on my own. Who would have thought that stepping into a pile of dog dung here in this muddy alley would reveal a hint of clarity..."
Chen Ping'an interjected: "Sister, you've been stepping in that muck for quite some time. Why haven't you scraped it off yet?"
The immortal woman, previously immersed in a meditative purity, suddenly snapped back to the mundane world, her face turning ashen. But Fu Nanhua's warning still echoed, and in frustration, she jabbed the youth's forehead with a finger. Her eyes blazed: "At your age, hasn't anyone taught you that a fiery temper portends an early death, and bitterness drains one's fortune?!"
Chen Ping'an, thick-skinned, paid no heed, but glanced at Song Jixin nearby, silent. The latter stomped angrily, cursing: "Chen Ping'an, why are you looking at me? What bad luck!"
Fu Nanhua, surprised to find he hadn't yet crossed into Song Jixin's yard, frowned, openly mocking: "Cai Jinjian! It's remarkable that someone would waste the path to immortality over a pile of dog dung."
Remarkably, Cai Jinjian did not bristle. She cast a long look at the unremarkable, gaunt youth, then turned and left. Suddenly, the boy softly said, "Sister, your eyelashes are very long."
Such vulgar commoners dared to tease an immortal goddess? Cai Jinjian's fury flared as she whipped around, resolved to discipline the seemingly simple yet cunning rustic boy. Though their powers were restrained here, the benefits of her lifelong cultivation—fortifying her body like continual tempering of sinew and bone—allowed her to effortlessly strike vital points, planting latent ailments, draining his vitality.
In the dim alley, she saw only a dark face and bright eyes—like the moon rising over the sea. Her eyes gleamed, then softened with innate feminine compassion, slowly washing away regret until her phoenix-like eyes sparkled with radiant understanding.
To sever the inner demons—that was the true opportunity.
Since the founding ancestor, Yunxia Mountain's tradition held that every cycle of fate's rise and fall was a trial to overcome, without fixed rules—each seeker must solve their own riddle.
Cai Jinjian felt she had found the wild mind and restless heart to subdue, embodied by this seemingly innocent yet truly obstructive youth.
Again, she raised her hand and pressed gently over his chest. The movement was fluid and swift as thunder. Though the boy tried to retreat, he could not evade her touch.
Fu Nanhua stared intently at the enchanting silhouette, his heart devoid of any tenderness, only murderous intent, barely restrained as he shouted: "You lightly flicked his forehead before, causing him chronic illness for years. That punishment sufficed! Why persist, Cai Jinjian? Are you mad enough to forsake the great Dao for a wretched brat?!"
Cai Jinjian ignored him. Fu Nanhua lowered his voice, resuming the aristocratic demeanor, chuckling dryly: "Cai Jinjian of Yunxia Mountain, quarreling with a commoner in this manner—do you not fear disgrace if it spreads?"
She turned, smiling: "This alley holds a strange fate for me. Who would have thought even here I could glean a small chance? Though slight, even mosquito meat is meat—a good omen. I have newfound confidence in that youth, Gu Can!"
Fu Nanhua was taken aback. Could she truly have reached enlightenment?
Cai Jinjian lifted her foot, surveying the unsightly filth, grinning: "Truly, a stroke of luck."
Song Jixin's expression darkened, inscrutable. Nearby, the unnoticed maid Zhigui stood silently. At one moment, her eyes revealed two pairs of faint golden irises—double pupils.
Fu Nanhua felt a vague disturbance, turned sharply, scanning quickly but detected nothing unusual. After scrutinizing the maid, he found no cause for alarm and dismissed his unease as a consequence of Cai Jinjian's actions drawing the gaze of a celestial sage in the town.
Cai Jinjian's spirits soared, the accumulated mental blocks breaking loose like a flood. Not merely a trivial opportunity—if Yunxia Mountain, now hollow at its core, truly required a formidable "immortal artifact" to stabilize its fading fortunes and cement her claim as future sect leader, she would seize this chance. Otherwise, she longed only to leave this place and return to seclusion for decades.
She approached Fu Nanhua's ragged alley maid. Behind her, the boy asked, "Did you do something to me?"
Without turning, Cai Jinjian replied, "Little one, you imagine too much."
The youth fell silent. She glanced back with a smile: "You won't live more than half a year."
He paused. She smiled coyly: "Just kidding, sister lied to you!"
Chen Ping'an grinned broadly. Both Cai Jinjian and Fu Nanhua, the immortal pair, shared a silent thought: Frogs in a well, ants beneath the mountain.
On the wall, Song Jixin rubbed his temples with unusual seriousness. Even though Zhigui had gone with the eccentric sister to find the snot-nosed Gu Can, and the impulsive youth had entered his own courtyard, Song Jixin remained rooted, lost in thought.
Among the sharp young minds, a thin boy in the alley glanced once at the tall woman's retreating form, then lowered his gaze, approaching his gate—though the wooden door remained stubbornly shut.
Song Jixin despised this feeling: some people, usually invisible, become like a stone in a cesspit—if unmoved, an eyesore; if moved, filthy.
Fu Nanhua's words behind him went unheard, forcing the Old Dragon City heir to repeat: "Song Jixin, do you know there are people utterly different from you?"
Song Jixin snapped out of his trance, turned, still squatting, gazing down the alley with a contemptuous smile: "Only those inferior to me deserve to be so different."