Start cultivating immortality in Xiaoao world, bumped into the master's wife at the start! - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Facing Yue Buqun

Arriving at the entrance to the main hall.

Linghu Chong paused to look around. The plaque above the grand doors hung high, with two large characters written in a bold, flowing script: ‘Huashan’. The places where the gold lacquer had flaked off made the passage of time even more apparent.

Looking inside, he saw a tall, slender figure standing at the far end of the main hall.

Relying on the original host’s memory, Linghu Chong immediately recognized the familiar figure and attire—he knew at once who it was.

The current head of the Huashan Sect, also the original host’s master—the Gentleman Sword, Yue Buqun.

Seeing Yue Buqun, Linghu Chong couldn’t help but feel uneasy and constrained inside.

“I’ll have to face it sooner or later. Go on!”

Linghu Chong gave his head a slight shake, then steeled himself and stepped over the threshold, entering the hall with a nervous heart.

The moment he stepped into the main hall, a solemn and dignified atmosphere washed over him.

The hall was brightly lit; besides the sunlight streaming in through the carved lattice windows, there were also candles standing tall on the desks, burning steadily.

As Linghu Chong drew closer, Yue Buqun stood with his back to him, facing the solid wood wall ahead. On that wall, a single elegant and dynamic character was written: ‘Qi’ the Qi of the Qi Sect.

The current Huashan Sect mainly focused on cultivating internal energy, with external sword techniques as a supplement. Hence, they belonged to the Qi Sect.

There had once been a Sword Sect as well, but long ago, a tremendous upheaval occurred within the Huashan Sect—a dispute between “Sword” and “Qi”—which led to the Sword Sect’s eventual disappearance.

Linghu Chong stopped a short distance behind Yue Buqun, then called out toward his figure: “Master, your disciple has returned!”

Yue Buqun, who had been lost in thought, suddenly turned around upon hearing the voice. When he saw it was Linghu Chong, his expression relaxed a bit. He said, “Why didn’t you make a sound when you walked?”

“Ah!”

Linghu Chong was dumbfounded. In his head, he’d already imagined dozens of ways Yue Buqun might greet him—but this one had never crossed his mind.

But he quickly recovered and replied, “Did I… not?”

Yue Buqun didn’t dwell on it. He waved his hand and said, “All right, that’s not important. Now, tell me in detail—what happened while you and your Madam were away? Don’t skip a single detail.”

“Details?” Linghu Chong jumped in alarm at the word. His mind suddenly went blank—completely white. He couldn’t recall anything except Mistress.

“Yes, tell me everything in detail. I want to see who dared to lay a hand on our Huashan Sect.” Yue Buqun said with a trace of anger.

“Oh! So those details!”

Linghu Chong sighed in relief upon hearing that.

“What else did you think I meant?”

“N-nothing! That’s exactly what I meant to talk about too!” Linghu Chong replied hastily, eyes darting away, not daring to meet Yue Buqun’s gaze.

“Enough joking. Speak!”

“Yes!” Linghu Chong cupped his hands and began: “It was like this, Master.”

“That day, after Mistress and I had completed our tasks, we were ambushed on the way back to Huashan by a group of mysterious masked men dressed in black. Each one was highly skilled in martial arts—the weakest among them was a second-rate, and there were even several first-rate experts.”

“They didn’t say a word and immediately attacked us. They had the advantage in numbers, and Mistress and I were no match for them. After a fierce and bloody battle, Mistress managed to break through with me. I passed out from my injuries shortly after.”

“I don’t know what happened after that. When I came to, I was in the back mountain of Huashan. Mistress told me that a traitor had appeared in the sect, so we hid there to avoid being hunted down. She then used her internal energy to heal me and restore my strength.”

“Once I recovered, Mistress returned ahead of me.”

Linghu Chong recounted the events truthfully—except for omitting a few scenes that require a paid subscription to view.

After hearing Linghu Chong’s account, Yue Buqun’s brow furrowed so deeply that his eyebrows almost formed the character “川” (chuan). “That’s it?”

There wasn’t a shred of useful information in what Linghu Chong had said.

“That’s it!” Linghu Chong shrugged and blinked his big, jet-black eyes.

He wasn’t lying—after Ning Zhongze helped him break through the encirclement, he really had passed out. What happened afterward was locked behind a paywall.

“What about the origins of those black-clad men? What martial arts techniques did they use? Nothing on that?”

“Nothing.” Linghu Chong shook his head and said, “I don’t know where they came from. Their martial arts style was extremely strange—not like any of the Five Mountain Sects.”

Yue Buqun’s heart skipped a beat at those words. His brows creased slightly as he fell into thought. “Not from the Five Mountains Alliance… Could they be from the Devil’s Sect?”

“No idea.”

Linghu Chong felt they probably weren’t from the Devil’s Sect—their conduct didn’t match that of the Devil’s Sect. It was too sneaky. He suspected they might have been sent by Zuo Lengchan from the Songshan Sect.

But Linghu Chong didn’t share that with Yue Buqun. It was only speculation, and even if he said it, Yue Buqun might not believe him.

“Fine. Asking further won’t be of much use. Chong’er, your clothes—are they torn from the battle?”

Since he couldn’t get any useful info, Yue Buqun turned his attention to Linghu Chong himself.

“Yes, Master. The fighting was too intense, and my clothes were torn during the scuffle.”

Linghu Chong recalled the chaotic scene, with one shocking moment after another flashing through his mind.

That didn’t answer the question at all!

These two weren’t even speaking on the same wavelength.

“Torn?” Yue Buqun was puzzled.

Those black-clad men didn’t have weapons? Was it all hand-to-hand combat?

Yue Buqun was momentarily confused but didn’t dwell on it. He then turned his concern toward Linghu Chong. “Your clothes are in such tatters—looks like the battle really was fierce. You must be seriously injured.

Let me take a look. Then I’ll call a physician to prepare some medicine for you.”

As he spoke, Yue Buqun reached out his large hand, trying to grab Linghu Chong’s arm.

“Ah!” Linghu Chong was startled and jumped back, raising both hands in front of him to block Yue Buqun. He quickly said, “N-no need, Master. Mistress already applied medicine for me. I’m not seriously hurt anymore—just need a bit of rest.”

“Yes, that’s right, Master! If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

As he spoke, Linghu Chong kept backing away. Once he’d put enough distance between them, he turned and bolted out of the hall like greased lightning.

Only a bewildered Yue Buqun remained in the hall, his outstretched hand left hanging awkwardly in the air.

“This brat! Always so rash. Your master was just worried about you—how can you not appreciate that?”

“Forget it. If he won’t let me check, then so be it. Seeing how lively he is, he probably isn’t seriously hurt.”

“But… why do his movements feel faster than before? Am I imagining things?”

Yue Buqun lowered his hand and muttered a complaint, then stopped worrying about Linghu Chong’s condition. He nodded slightly, deep in thought, his brows lightly furrowed, a bit surprised by Linghu Chong’s movement techniques.

In the vast hall, Yue Buqun was not alone.

Hidden in the shadows, Feng Qingyang had heard the entire conversation between Linghu Chong and Yue Buqun.

Now that he was certain Linghu Chong was indeed a disciple of the Huashan Sect, a gratified smile appeared on his face. In his aged but sharp eyes, a glint of wisdom shone through.

After pondering for a moment, he vanished from the main hall without a sound.

The flame of a candle on the stand flickered faintly.

But this subtle change failed to draw Yue Buqun’s attention. He was still lost in his thoughts.