Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1458 - 788: Reincarnation? (Part 2)

Even more crucially, a red mark adorned the burly man's forehead, clearly exposing his real identity without doubt.

Deep down, the little beggar felt anxious and filled with intense worry, but on the surface, he kept up a cheerful smile, weaving through the area as he yelled at the burly man, "Hey, don’t just stand there, make a move. Otherwise, all your men will be down."

The burly man completely ignored the little beggar's taunt.

Forcing the enemy to reveal their hidden ace was worthwhile, even if it meant all his subordinates ended up dead or hurt.

Noticing the foe wouldn't bite, the little beggar rolled his eyes in annoyance, sensing his energy nearly exhausted, so he resorted to his final technique.

The very next moment, the little beggar snapped his left hand, and a tiny sharp blade, as long as a finger, suddenly appeared gripped between his digits.

Swish!

A flash of sword light cut through the air without a sound, speeding straight toward the burly man's face at incredible velocity.

"Perfect chance!" The burly man's gaze sharpened, and he bellowed abruptly, his right hand shooting out like a bolt, seizing the incoming blade in an instant.

Witnessing this, despair crossed the little beggar's features, yet he mustered his remaining power, sprinting far to the rear of the temple.

His final escape route waited there: the dog hole.

Regrettably, destiny intervened differently, as two figures already stood watch by the dog hole, barring the little beggar's path.

This holdup let the burly man close in just in time.

They clashed in only a handful of strikes, and the little beggar met his end in defeat, his skull smashed by a crushing palm.

With the little beggar slain, a faint grin crept onto the burly man's face; he promptly rummaged through the beggar's corpse, then rose with a darkened look.

He lingered a bit longer, but nothing unusual happened.

Faced with this outcome, the burly man's weathered features twisted into a scowl so severe it seemed ready to shed tears, forcing him to signal his followers to head back inside the hall.

At the same time, turmoil swept through the small town from multiple events, including three killings that claimed more than twenty lives.

Over the last century, Mingxi Town had never faced such devastating losses.

Within a single day, the town's mood turned heavy and stifling, roads emptied out and grew quiet, leaving residents too scared to step outdoors.

Meanwhile, Chief Liu and the other officials turned into the most overworked individuals, racing to alert the county office while assigning teams to probe the scenes, wearing themselves ragged and utterly drained.

Of course, that's a tale for another time; we'll skip it now.

Once Zhao Sheng split from the middle-aged scholar, Chen San wasted no time in locating him.

Chen San gazed at his master with an expression brimming with resentment and hardship, endlessly complaining about his troubles, begging the master not to abandon him, lest he face trouble explaining to the lord and others.

Zhao Sheng brushed him off lightly as he made his way back home.

...

An hour passed, and Zhao Sheng dismissed Chen San before settling into the study to reflect in silence.

Through half a day's exploration, he had pieced together key details: first, every "Immortal Ruins Guest" carried a blood seal, stripping them down to ordinary mortals;

Second, the town concealed numerous mysteries, and the "gate" for escape likely hid within one of those enigmas, tracking it down posed a tough puzzle;

Third, navigating among fellow Immortal Ruins Guests and staying alive presented the biggest hurdle. After all, their cultivator backgrounds remained hidden, sources unknown, strengths unclear. Plenty nursed dark motives, with zero trust between them.

Fourth, clues abounded, but picking a starting point?

Fifth, ...

Zhao Sheng mulled it over extensively before resolving to address several angles simultaneously.

Thus, he rose and exited the study, soon tracking down Chen San and directing him to summon the head steward.

Afterward, Zhao Sheng approached his "parents" warmly, using gentle persuasion to secure two hundred taels of silver.

Keep in mind, ten taels of fine silver could sustain a farmer's family for almost a full year, while two hundred taels might purchase fifty acres of arable land, guaranteeing endless security in sustenance and shelter.

This highlights just how precious two hundred taels of silver truly were.

When the head steward rushed over in haste, Zhao Sheng gave him directives; the steward paused briefly but nodded in agreement and departed.

Not long after, Zhao Mansion's servants dashed out eagerly, the dim-witted ones heading back to their villages, while the sharp ones visited lively spots like teahouses to quietly collect rumors.

With all tasks set in motion, Zhao Sheng stayed within the estate this time, seeking out the family martial instructor to seriously start practicing sword skills.

Naturally, the sword training served as a cover; his real aim was to obtain a blade.

Though puzzled by why the young master wished to study swordplay, the martial instructor faithfully showed off various forms.

Moments ticked by steadily, and the servants trickled back to Zhao Mansion one by one, carrying assorted tidbits of intelligence.

As evening descended, the head steward arrived at the study in a flurry, accompanied by a few others, to confer with the master.

"Set the items down, then leave."

Following the head steward's order, two attendants hastily deposited the book crates and exited the study without delay.

"Master, we've acquired everything you requested. We almost cleared out both local bookstores, and we've dispatched folks to the county; they'll be back by tomorrow."

With that, the head steward shifted focus, "As for the gazetteer and county annals you asked for, the household already possessed them. I've fetched them now."

Zhao Sheng stepped to the book crate, lifted the cover, and beheld it packed with stitched volumes, encompassing not just histories and classics but also verses, odd legends, tales, and fictions of all kinds.

The second crate mirrored it, brimming with diverse tomes.

Zhao Sheng's eyes lit up; he grabbed the gazetteer from the top, diving in with keen interest.

Noting this, the head steward withdrew discreetly from the study, shutting the door softly, and tasked his son Chen San with standing sentry outside, poised to heed the master's call anytime.

Zhao Sheng scanned the pages at a rapid clip, blessed with an eidetic recall, finishing the full gazetteer before long; after a short reflection, he selected a few county annals and devoured them just as quickly.

Once the annals were done, he simply hefted the book crate to the desk and began perusing the volumes from the uppermost, his pace accelerating with each turn.

The whole night through, the study's lamp burned steadily.

...

As his eyes fluttered open, a jolt hit Zhao Sheng's core, propelling him upright in bed.

All around—the curtains, ornate railings, embroidered quilts, and the young maid dozing beside the bed—struck him with deep familiarity, like events from mere hours ago.

No, this marked the morning of his awakening!

"Huh, what's happening here?" Zhao Sheng surveyed the chamber's decor, his thoughts churning with unease.

Rebirth? Transmigration? Or something else...

Luckily, Zhao Sheng had once stumbled into the Great Saint Thought Realm and faced like situations, allowing him to steady his nerves swiftly.

While his mind raced wildly, the young maid stirred from sleep, spotting the master alert, she cried out joyfully, "Master, you finally woke up! I’ll notify the lord and lady."

Those very words struck Zhao Sheng's ears, startling him sharply.

Something felt off!

These words rang wrong!

He reflected for a moment and pinpointed the discrepancy from before to now.

"Yesterday" the maid had said, "Master, you finally woke up," but today it was, "Master, you finally woke up."

Though "finally" echoed in both, a chilling revelation lurked beneath, sending shivers down Zhao Sheng's spine.

An hour on, a revitalized Zhao Sheng took his seat at the meal table, digging in with gusto.

"May the ancient immortal grant my son tranquility. Tomorrow, we return to the temple to offer thanks..." his mother uttered the identical phrase.

"Zhao’er, you've only just mended, avoid those idle companions. Had they not lured you..." his father echoed the same.

Zhao Sheng distractedly appeased his parents, then after their departure, hurried from the mansion alongside Chen San.

Shortly, he reached the arched bridge, positioning himself at its edge, gazing toward the flowing water.

After a wait of two quarters-hour, a dark-roofed vessel glided from the bank, drifting beneath the span.

A middle-aged scholar stood at the prow.

Spotting the awaited figure reemerge, Zhao Sheng's thoughts whirled rapidly, a subtle grin playing on his lips as he bowed politely toward the bow.

Next, he called out clearly, "Brother, would you care to join me at the bridge for a chat?"

The middle-aged scholar lifted his head, noticing the blood mark on Zhao Sheng’s forehead, and his frame shook noticeably.

Yet the man recovered fast, clasping his hands with a grin, "I'd be delighted, nothing could please me more!"