“M… my lord, thank you.”
“I’m truly grateful.”
Old Freak Tang, sensing that Chu Feng had alleviated his pain, hurriedly thanked him.
“Senior, no need for formalities. It’s what I should do.”
“After all, you’re Master Liangqiu’s friend.”
“Besides, I came here with a request of my own,” Chu Feng said.
“My lord, I really don’t know any Master Liangqiu. Have you truly mistaken me for someone else?” Old Freak Tang still tried to deflect.
“Senior, you don’t need to hide. I know you’re the one I’m looking for.”
“I don’t know why you’re concealing your identity, but I have no other choice. I must trouble you.”
“A friend of mine is afflicted by a curse that may threaten their life.”
“I heard from Master Liangqiu that you’re skilled in curses and their remedies, so I seek your guidance,” Chu Feng said.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” Old Freak Tang insisted.
“Senior, I know this is difficult for you, but a life is at stake. I mean no offence, but if you’re willing to help, I’ll agree to any condition,” Chu Feng pleaded.
“Leave.”
Suddenly, Old Freak Tang roared.
Chu Feng’s heart stirred.
When Old Freak Tang spoke, gone was the humility and fear, replaced by clear impatience. Most notably, he released his aura.
First-grade Supreme, as Chu Feng had suspected, Old Freak Tang was a Supreme realm cultivator.
As the aura pressed down, Chu Feng realised he was truly angry. If Chu Feng persisted, it wouldn’t just be a roar.
“Get out, and don’t show your face here again.”
Old Freak Tang continued, his eyes filled with menace as he glared at Chu Feng.
As expected, unable to keep hiding, Old Freak Tang resorted to threats.
Chu Feng sensed this wasn’t mere intimidation. If he kept pushing, Old Freak Tang might actually harm him.
So, Chu Feng had to leave for now.
“My apologies for the disturbance.”
With that, Chu Feng left the blacksmith shop and Qiuluo Village.
But he stopped outside the village, unwilling to give up.
Transformed into Shura, Chu Feng sat on a tree branch, gazing at the flowing river below, deep in thought.
“It seems the breakthrough lies with his daughter.”
Chu Feng figured that both Old Freak Tang and Song Ge’s mother were nearing their end.
Their only concern was Song Ge.
Thus, Song Ge was his way in.
Ugh—
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed Chu Feng’s chest.
Looking down, he was shocked to find a spiderweb-like black scar there.
The pain emanated from that scar.
“This… a curse?”
Chu Feng frowned, sensing it wasn’t mere poison. The sensation resembled Bai Liluo’s affliction.
Though weaker than hers, Chu Feng suspected it was a curse.
“When did this happen? Just now?”
It couldn’t be random. Chu Feng deduced Old Freak Tang was responsible.
Recalling the moment he treated Old Freak Tang’s condition, the man’s hand had touched Chu Feng’s chest.
Chu Feng hadn’t noticed anything odd then, never suspecting a curse had been placed.
“Why curse me? A warning?”
As Chu Feng pondered, the curse spread through his body. Despite using his spirit formation techniques to block it, he couldn’t stop it.
The pain was bearable, but what worried him was his fading consciousness and numbing body.
In a daze, Chu Feng felt himself fall from the tree into the river, drifting with the current.
Yet, it seemed someone was speaking to him.
Though he couldn’t make out the words, his mouth responded uncontrollably.
Weirder still, he couldn’t hear or know what he was saying.
Everything was eerily bizarre.
After a long time, the voice faded, but Chu Feng remained semi-conscious.
Later, he sensed someone pulling him from the river.
Hours passed before he fully awoke.
Chu Feng found himself in a lavish, spacious bedroom, likely within a palace.
He knew this must be the home of whoever rescued him.
Checking his chest, he saw the scar was gone.
No matter how he probed, no trace of the curse remained.
“Has the curse dissipated, or is Old Freak Tang’s curse so potent that it’s undetectable when dormant?”
“I should apologise to him. No, better to find his daughter first.”
Chu Feng felt the curse was no major issue, likely a warning from Old Freak Tang, so he decided against confronting him.
He’d said all he could, and further persuasion might only anger the man. Better to approach his daughter.
With his decision made, Chu Feng stood and headed outside.
Exiting the palace, he realised it was within a village.
The village’s buildings, though not straw huts, were relatively plain.
The opulent palace stood out starkly in contrast.
Though the village’s martial cultivators and spiritists were weak by upper realm standards, compared to the lower realms, they’d be considered strong.
With their strength, they could build grand palaces like this one.
But they didn’t, for a reason.
It wasn’t permitted.
Martial cultivators were divided into tiers, and one’s rank dictated their lifestyle.
These villagers, by cultivation, were the lowest in this upper realm.
By worldly standards, they were meant to live simply, even poorly.
Living extravagantly would draw scorn, or worse, beatings or death from stronger cultivators.
In the martial cultivation world, people were forcibly stratified.
Even if capable of a better life, the world forbade it, and these people silently accepted it.
A tragic reality.
Chu Feng had once wondered if these people, knowing they could live superior lives in the lower realms with their strength, would choose to leave.
His conclusion: some might, but most would stay.
Not for any grand reason, but because this was the upper realm, a status symbol.
Martial cultivators valued such things.
To them, the lower realms, even the mortal realms, weren’t places for cultivators—those were for the weak.
Even living at the bottom of the upper realm, enduring countless disdainful glances, they’d still feel superior to anyone from the lower or mortal realms.
Perhaps that was human nature, the vanity of the heart.
