Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1463 - 792: First Signs Emerge

As midday drew closer, the crowd of worshippers at the Ten Kings Temple began to thin out steadily.

Entering the backyard through a gateway, Zhao Sheng noticed a young Taoist boy sweeping the yard and strolled toward him without haste.

"Little monk, I'd like to meet Qin Temple Priest. Is he around?"

The young Taoist glanced up at the courteous Zhao Sheng, warming to him instantly, then clutched his broom and replied gently, "Our temple priest is hosting visitors in the Quiet Hall. If the Young Master isn't pressed for time, maybe return another day."

Zhao Sheng's eyes lit up, and he grinned, "That's fine, my intentions are genuine—please lead me to the Quiet Hall. I'll just wait outside."

With those words, he pulled a fragment of silver from his sleeve and slipped it into the young Taoist's palm.

The young Taoist flushed red with unease, gripping the silver piece firmly in his right hand, appearing flustered and unsure what to do.

Yet moments later, he set the broom aside, stepped to the side, and gestured welcomingly: "Young Master, this way, please."

Led by the young Taoist, they crossed another courtyard and entered a simple, unassuming small yard.

This yard wasn't spacious, measuring just over twenty paces across in both directions, with clusters of verdant bamboo in the southwest corner that lent a subtle grace to the space.

Right then, two men in black patrol attire stood watch at the entrance.

Spotting an unfamiliar face nearing, a swarthy-faced guard moved quickly to block him, declaring in a low tone, "Young Master, turn back. Qin Temple Priest isn't receiving visitors today."

A ripple of unease stirred in Zhao Sheng's chest, and he inquired, "Truth be told, my family has long shared a close bond with Mr. Chen. Might Old Madam Chen be inside the Quiet Hall?"

"You are..." The swarthy-faced guard's features twisted in a blend of astonishment and suspicion.

Zhao Sheng offered a smile, "I'm Zhao Sheng, from the family that operates three grain and oil stores in town—we regularly provide supplies to the River Patrol Camp."

Understanding dawned, and the swarthy-faced guard's face softened with a trace of warmth, "Ah, so you're the Young Master from Landlord Zhao's household. With our families' strong connections to Landlord Zhao, you're hardly a stranger."

"Mr. Zhao, forgive me. Qin Temple Priest is tending to my Old Madam right now, and I can't say when it'll wrap up. Why not try again tomorrow?" The swarthy-faced guard phrased it politely, but an insistent nudge to depart lingered beneath.

At that instant, hurried footsteps echoed from beyond the yard. In a flash, a gaunt, sickly old man dressed in rough hemp robes burst through the door, ignoring everyone in his path.

The sight ignited fury in the swarthy-faced guard, who bellowed, "Hey, old fellow, stop right there!"

As he yelled, the swarthy-faced guard charged forward menacingly, extending a hand to push the old man in hemp robes away.

In the blink of an eye, the old man in hemp robes let out a soft laugh, showing no visible action, but the guard toppled to the ground just shy of touching him.

Looking more closely, the swarthy-faced guard's eyes stared vacantly, white froth bubbling from the corners of his mouth.

Zhao Sheng's grin vanished, his face steady and calm as he observed the old man in hemp robes, his attention locking onto the elder's hands.

The old man in hemp robes chuckled again, his gaze inadvertently shifting to Zhao Sheng's brow.

Instantly, the same thought crossed both their minds: "Another one!"

The remaining River Patrol guard, alarmed by his partner's abrupt collapse, rushed over, shaking him desperately and shouting his name.

The swarthy-faced guard had already slipped into oblivion, deaf to his comrade's cries.

All the while, the old man in hemp robes remained rooted in place, his face growing intensely somber, his slender hands quivering faintly as if poised to deliver a devastating blow at any second.

"Resorting to poison? Mere child's play!" Zhao Sheng scoffed abruptly, his eyes brimming with disdain.

"Hehe, if it gets the job done, even a petty trick like poison works just fine." The old man in hemp robes shot back with a wicked grin, utterly unperturbed.

"For killing, you need a proper blade!"

The words barely escaped his lips when a Willow Leaf Saber materialized in Zhao Sheng's grasp, its edge gleaming coldly and radiating a menacing presence.

The old man's mirth cut off sharply; he positioned his hands protectively ahead, his ten fingers slowly darkening to black.

Creak!

In this tense standoff, the Quiet Hall's door swung open abruptly, breaking the deadlock between the pair.

Moments later, a fragile, silver-haired elderly woman emerged at the threshold, flanked by a slender old monk clad in a dark Daoist robe.

Zhao Sheng observed their arrival, and with a quick twist of his wrist, the Willow Leaf Saber vanished in an instant.

Upon spotting the old lady, the old man in hemp robes acted like he'd met his worst foe, spinning around wordlessly and fleeing through the door at top speed.

Seeing this unfold, Zhao Sheng grew even more vigilant.

The slender old monk, noticing the swarthy-faced guard sprawled on the ground, creased his forehead faintly.

He hurried over, drew a white vial from his sleeve, tipped out a bean-sized elixir pill, and fed it to the swarthy-faced guard, aiding him to grind and gulp it down.

Soon enough, the swarthy-faced guard let out a moan and slowly came to his senses.

With that settled, Old Madam Chen tottered forward unsteadily until she stood mere steps from Zhao Sheng, regarding him with gentle eyes.

"Young man, offer your respects to Old Madam Chen," Zhao Sheng stated, yet he offered no bow or salute.

Undisturbed by his rudeness, the old lady's expression only grew kinder, "I recall you—you're that boy from the Chen family. Three years back, at my birthday feast, you arrived with your father to pay homage."

Zhao Sheng arched a brow, giving no real response, "Old Madam, your recall is sharp. Looks like you've got some years left in you."

"My longevity comes from King Yan's blessings! Dropping by to see King Yan more frequently can only bring good," the old lady answered.

With that, heedless of Zhao Sheng's reaction, she wobbled her way out of the yard.

At the same time, the swarthy-faced guard, who had just managed to rise with effort, caught sight of the old lady departing and, leaning on his fellow guard, limped slowly after her out of the courtyard.