Northern Yan Chapter Twelve: A Familiar Silhouette

Mo Hao gestured for Lei Tong to sit down and speak slowly, but Lei Tong merely gazed dreamily at the two bottles of ape wine. Mo Hao frowned slightly and coughed twice before Lei Tong suddenly seemed to come to his senses and hurriedly took a seat opposite Mo Hao. Like a magician, Mo Hao produced two wine cups from his Heaven and Earth pouch, already filled with fine liquor.

“Speak,” Mo Hao said.

Lei Tong took a leisurely sip from his cup before addressing Mo Hao without hurry or worry.

“Perhaps senior brother was bold enough to accept a task above Grade C?”

Lei Tong gave Mo Hao a half-smile, half-smirk. Mo Hao felt his heart skip a beat, sensing that this matter might not be as simple as he had thought. He realized he had been too reckless, but since events had come this far, he decided to grit his teeth and listen to what Lei Tong had to say.

“This person is named Xiao Huan. His cultivation isn’t very high—only late stage of the Store Qi realm—but he is extremely skilled in the art of poison. His mastery of toxic techniques is unrivaled in the world. It is said that he once killed someone at the half-Step Foundation Establishment stage, though I only have about fifty percent confidence in the truth of this. I’ll bring you the records of his techniques later. However, senior brother, Xiao Huan has been in Yue City for a long time without anyone dealing with him because there is an old ghost at the Foundation Establishment stage backing him. This old ghost is quite aged and is expected to pass away within a few years, which has led various sects to want to eliminate his underlings.”

“According to you, junior brother, this mission won’t be easy to complete. Even if I have the strength to kill Xiao Huan, won’t I then become the target of an old ghost who is about to pass on? Moreover, Xiao Huan has the power to slay someone at the half-Step Foundation Establishment stage.”

Mo Hao’s expression grew troubled. Lei Tong drained his wine, smacking his lips before waving his hand at Mo Hao.

“Senior brother, there’s no need to worry. This time, four late-stage Store Qi cultivators and one half-Step Foundation Establishment practitioner will be dispatched to kill that old ghost. What you should be cautious of are these five. They are said to be external disciples of the Glazed Palace, and their strength is formidable. The Foundation Establishment cultivator is nearing his passing, and his magical power is less than half of what it once was. It seems this kill is within reach.”

Mo Hao found it hard to believe that four late-stage Store Qi cultivators and one half-Step Foundation Establishment practitioner were going after the old ghost. After all, Foundation Establishment is a significant realm. Though he had never encountered a Foundation Establishment cultivator before, he knew they possessed Heavenly, Earthly, and Human harmonies, with spiritual senses in their minds and the ability to wield fundamental soul attacks—abilities far beyond those of cultivators below Foundation Establishment.

Yet, upon hearing the name Glazed Palace, Mo Hao felt a weight lift from his heart. As one of the three great sects, the strength of Glazed Palace disciples was certainly not something ordinary cultivators could gauge. Having learned what he needed, Mo Hao exchanged a few more words with Lei Tong before sending him off.

Watching Lei Tong’s retreating figure, Mo Hao marveled at how well-informed he was. Some details he mentioned were likely beyond the reach of many cultivators. Yet, Mo Hao also sensed inconsistencies in Lei Tong’s account—not to be taken entirely at face value. The idea that a late-stage Store Qi cultivator could kill a half-Step Foundation Establishment practitioner solely through poison was hard to believe. After all, poisons that work on ordinary humans often falter against cultivators, who can endure stronger toxins and resist longer.

Still, caution was warranted. Mo Hao’s time in cultivation was short, and the world was full of extraordinary individuals. The fact that this task was assigned to Grade B was telling. He resolved to prepare thoroughly.

With these thoughts, Mo Hao arrived at his room’s door. Though he had finally uncovered the information he sought, unease lingered in his heart. His lack of combat experience made him uncertain how he might fare against a late-stage cultivator.

Within Yue City, prosperity and bustle reigned. Vendors’ cries filled the air. It was midday, the height of the city’s liveliness. At the city gate, a host of soldiers stood guard. Near the gate, a youth dressed in white stood still, gazing at a large character inscribed above the gate:

“Yue.”

This was Mo Hao, newly arrived from the Void Sword Sect. At first glance, the character seemed ordinary, but a strange feeling gnawed at him. Looking again, he realized the character exuded a sharp aura of killing intent, causing his own magical energy to stir involuntarily. Just a single character could provoke such a reaction; the calligrapher’s cultivation had to be no lower than Golden Core. Golden Core cultivators were rare even in Void Sword Sect. To think such a Golden Core ancestor resided in this city.

Mo Hao moved toward the gate, joining a line of commoners waiting to enter. Many noticed his youth and found it odd that a boy would enter the city alone, especially since the countryside was rife with beasts and travelers usually traveled in groups. Yet, they paid little mind, assuming he had simply lost his family. One even approached and asked if Mo Hao was separated from his kin. Mo Hao smiled and shook his head.

Many innkeepers’ assistants gathered nearby. Seeing Mo Hao alone, they asked if he was a local and if he needed lodging. Mo Hao found it strange that these people could come and go freely despite the heavy guard at the gate. Observing the soldiers seemed indifferent to the comings and goings, Mo Hao agreed to a proposal from one of them.

When passing through the gate, the soldiers performed routine checks, asking Mo Hao where he came from and his purpose. He replied he was from Hanzhong City and had come to collect some business goods. The soldiers nodded and allowed him entry.

As Mo Hao stepped into the bustling city, his eyes sweeping the unfamiliar urban landscape, a sudden commotion arose ahead. Curiosity stirred, and he quickened his pace to investigate.

“Can’t you see the miss is coming?” a vendor shouted angrily.

In the middle of the street, a cart filled with fresh fruit lay overturned, the fruits strewn and some trampled underfoot. Several men stood nearby, and behind them was a woman veiled in black, expression unreadable. The vendor knelt beside the cart.

“Pardon my poor eyesight for blocking the path of esteemed immortals. Please have mercy; I vow never to offend again!” the vendor pleaded.

Mo Hao quickly suppressed his aura, appearing as an ordinary mortal. Though the men and the veiled woman were only early-stage cultivators, their brazen arrogance in the city suggested they were nothing less than vicious brigands. It was almost too easy to recognize.

Before leaving the sect, Mo Hao had asked Little Lingtong for a portrait of Xiao Huan, paying half a bottle of ape wine for the information and cursing Lei Tong as a crafty merchant in his heart.

Mo Hao had no intention of letting these people know a new cultivator had arrived in the city, as it would surely attract unwanted attention and trouble. He planned to keep out of their affairs.

Yet, at that moment, a long-haired woman stepped before the vendor, grasping the arm of one of the men as he raised his hand to strike. Mo Hao stared in astonishment, struck by a silhouette both familiar and yet somewhat strange.