Chapter Eighteen: The Deity’s Path of Dining Without Paying

Guanyang City. The mottled city walls were blanketed with snow, their weathered stones revealing the passage of time and a deep sense of history. The city gate, towering and imposing, bore the characters “Guanyang.” In the lower right corner, there was an emblem—sun and moon embracing a halberd. This signified the city’s place within the borders of the Great Qin Empire. Technically, Immortal Village also belonged to the empire, but the state had always been lenient toward cultivators. Upon learning that the village housed “immortals,” it generously exempted the entire settlement from corvée labor.

On either side of the gate stood three armored guards, all ordinary folk. Just inside was an official in scarlet robes, faintly emanating the aura of condensed energy. Cultivators were countless in this world, each pursuing their own goals—some devoted themselves to the Dao, others sought power and glory in the court. There was no right or wrong to these choices.

After paying the entrance fee, Wu Yue and his companions stepped into the city.

The atmosphere was vibrant, bustling, brimming with joy.

Young and old alike wore new clothes. Children scampered about, laughing and playing. Adults occasionally scolded them, but their words rang with merriment. Upon reflection, Wu Yue realized it was the New Year—the most festive day for common folk. Yet, as a cultivator, Chen Nanfang had never celebrated a New Year.

There is no concept of time in cultivation. A few years may pass in the blink of an eye; some seclusion lasts a lifetime. As Wu Yue saw it, being a Core Formation cultivator granted him a three-hundred-year lifespan—one year was scarcely a breath.

“Honored guests, come and take a look! Golden Sands wine—if it doesn’t intoxicate, it’s free! Guanyang cuisine, delicious and authentic, clink-clink! No tricks, no exaggerations. Rest awhile, take a seat, see if the road ahead is smooth.”

The cheerful voice echoed from afar.

Wu Yue glanced at his companions. Chen Shujuang wore a gentle smile, Yu Fu looked listless, and Xue Xiaoyu was expressionless.

“Shall we step inside and rest?” Wu Yue asked.

Yu Fu’s eyes brightened, exclaiming, “Yes, yes!” Xue Xiaoyu nodded as well; after a thousand-mile journey in a day, fatigue was inevitable.

Wu Yue was about to enter when he felt Chen Shujuang tug at his sleeve, looking complicated. He whispered, “This tavern isn’t cheap. Do you have any money?”

Do you have any money?

Do you have any money.

Do you have any money!

Those four words echoed like a spell in Wu Yue’s mind. He was stunned. He could topple mountains with a wave, split the earth with a stomp—and now, someone was asking if he had money? Could they not recognize his status? Well, fine, he didn’t have any.

Chen Shujuang’s expression was one of expected disappointment. “I have two taels of broken silver. Let’s go to that inn instead.” Wu Yue followed his gaze to a small, ordinary inn, which looked shabby next to the tavern.

Unable to hold back, Wu Yue said, “Why don’t we have money? That doesn’t make sense.”

Chen Shujuang replied, “No one gave us any, so of course we have none. We can’t steal or rob, can we? So being penniless is perfectly normal.”

At first, Wu Yue felt this made sense, but something still seemed off.

“How did you travel the world before?” Wu Yue asked Xue Xiaoyu.

“Just walked. Usually, cultivators are quite wealthy, often able to find rare treasures with ease... but this is one of those times when we’re young and poor.” Xue Xiaoyu was speechless; he hadn’t expected the issue of money to arise during this trip. As for Wu Yue, he’d spent money only a few times, mostly during the Yuangu realm—though his circumstances were dire, he was rich then.

“Wait! Is your Lishan sect so poor?” Xue Xiaoyu suddenly asked.

“Ahem. Lishan plans everything carefully, it’s called...” Chen Shujuang mumbled.

“It’s called budgeting,” Wu Yue interjected, glancing at Yu Fu’s disappointed face. Wu Yue’s heart stirred; he smiled, “Let’s go in. I have a way.”

“You’re not planning to dine and dash, are you?” Chen Shujuang warned.

Wu Yue rolled his eyes and led the way in. Xue Xiaoyu and Yu Fu followed seamlessly. Chen Shujuang hesitated for a moment, then followed, determined to intervene if Wu Yue didn’t pay.

The four went directly to the second floor. Being New Year’s Eve, it wasn’t crowded. After half an hour, the table was piled high with dishes. Wu Yue tasted one; it reminded him of northern cuisine from his distant past. Xue Xiaoyu ate steadily, while Yu Fu devoured his food with wild abandon, both hands working feverishly, his Condensed Qi cultivation exuding a “who else but me” aura!

Wu Yue glanced at Yu Fu, then at Chen Shujuang, who ate elegantly but nearly matched Yu Fu’s speed. Clearly, this skill was hereditary.

They finished their meal in a whirlwind. Wu Yue beckoned, and the waiter hurried over, wearing a pleasing smile.

Wu Yue hesitated for a moment, abandoning any thoughts of smashing a window and fleeing—he couldn’t lose face like that.

“Um, do you take cards?”

“Cards? I’m not sure, but I can fetch the manager.” The waiter was puzzled but didn’t question further, given Wu Yue’s luxurious robe—a gift from Bai Chengxue.

“No need, I don’t have a card. I meant, would you accept an IOU?”

The waiter’s smile froze instantly.

“Ha, sir, please don’t joke. We don’t offer credit, small business here.” He discreetly signaled his colleagues, who immediately ran to alert the manager.

The manager was a portly man, as if heft was essential for authority in taverns. He was amiable, smiling as he said, “You seem distinguished; this meal is on the house. It’s not worth much silver.”

“Manager, it’s over a hundred taels…” a waiter whispered.

“Ah, it’s fine.” The manager smiled, continuing, “Travelers face inconvenience. Perhaps you could leave your names, to make some friends.”

Seeing Chen Shujuang’s resolute refusal, Wu Yue decided against giving the Lishan name. He pondered, “I owe you a favor; one day, I’ll ensure your safety.”

“That’s unnecessary. As citizens of Qin, we are protected by the laws. No need to trouble yourself.”

A faint sadness crept over Wu Yue; the script was going off course. He couldn’t reveal his name, or he’d never live it down.

“You’re shameless. Clearly from a noble family, yet unable to pay for a meal. What a joke.”

Wu Yue looked over—several women. He’d noticed them when he arrived; the youngest looked fifteen or sixteen, the oldest barely over thirty. All shared the same trait: remarkable beauty.

The speaker was the youngest, dressed in pale yellow, full of vitality. Most striking, however, was another woman in a green pleated skirt, about twenty, serene and ethereal, radiating tranquility.

Wu Yue couldn’t refute; they spoke the truth. He sighed—another person fooled by his robe. He was just a pauper. Still, appearance mattered; he’d need more clothes like this.

“How about this, manager? Do you have any enemies? We could kill them for you. Tit for tat.” After a long silence, Xue Xiaoyu cheerfully proposed. Yu Fu and his master watched their noses, indifferent, as if only responsible for eating.

The unflappable manager broke into a cold sweat. Discussing murder in broad daylight—wasn’t that too outrageous? Yet, how exhilarating!

“Brazen fools!” the youngest woman shouted. She was Princess Jinping, daughter of the Emperor of Qin. Hearing threats against her father’s subjects, she could not abide it.

“Just kidding!” Wu Yue quickly clarified, glaring at Xue Xiaoyu. Why hadn’t he suggested this earlier?

“Hmph. You’re all the same! Honggu, cripple their cultivation, so they cannot cause more harm.”

The eldest woman stood, coldly regarding Wu Yue’s group. With a wave of her hand, several violet bolts of lightning flew forth.

“Is it really necessary?” Chen Shujuang laughed, dispersing the lightning with a casual gesture.

An expert knows what to look for; Wu Yue thought it impressive, but Honggu was terrified. She felt no trace of spiritual energy from the man.

The other women, experienced themselves, recognized the extraordinary nature of the strike.

The manager was awestruck. He didn’t know Chen Shujuang’s true strength, but he knew that manifesting spiritual energy required at least Core Formation cultivation—true immortality. And to effortlessly counter it, how powerful must this middle-aged Taoist be?

This was a stroke of fortune!

The manager bit his lip, trembling as he asked, “Does your earlier promise still stand?”

Chen Shujuang smiled, “It does, but it concerns him, not me.”

“You’re shameless,” Wu Yue muttered, then summoned his spiritual energy. The surrounding aura gathered; Wu Yue infused a strand of divine sense, and a small jade sword took shape. He handed it to the manager, who received it with trembling hands. Previously, he’d underestimated the young man, but now his heart surged with excitement.

Now, let it be said—who would dare provoke Wang Fugui in the future?

“We’re square, then.”

“Square, square! No, if you ever come to eat, it’s always free, always free!”

“Hahaha, much better.” Xue Xiaoyu grinned at the table of women.

An expert knows what to look for. Though it seemed simple—condensing a jade sword, infusing divine sense—she herself could not achieve it!

This young man was likely at least a Nascent Soul cultivator. When had Qin gained such a prodigy? Perhaps an old monster reborn, yet he seemed genuinely young.

Wu Yue’s group strode away. At the stairway, Yu Fu whispered, “That miss was really beautiful.”

Xue Xiaoyu laughed, “Which one? The fierce one? Xiaofu, listen: women like that aren’t good… No figure, no character.”

“I say the lady in green is more beautiful. That temperament… she’s leagues ahead. Would be wonderful to marry her,” Wu Yue remarked.

Their words did not escape the women’s ears. Princess Jinping was furious, especially at the “no figure, no character” comment.

“I’ll have them arrested and punished…”

The lady in green merely smiled, unfazed.

“Princess, bear with it for now, circumstances are against us… We’ll have our revenge later,” someone advised.

“Right, Wutong, you’re always so learned—tell me which sect they belong to. I’ll have my father dismantle it, to soothe my anger.”

The lady in green was named Lin Wutong. She replied, “I can’t discern their cultivation method, but the child has a mark on his sleeve—it might be from Lishan, though Lishan hasn’t been prominent for two centuries…”

“Honggu? Honggu?” Princess Jinping called; Honggu finally returned to herself.

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about that young man. His cultivation is likely on par with the Zhao family’s four young masters—I cannot fathom his depth.”

“Is he really that powerful?” the others exclaimed.

“At least as much,” Honggu said, full of conviction.