Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Chance Encounter

After dividing the inheritance, Elder Yi Ming gathered his people and set out.

Between the Bai siblings and the disciple attendants, their group numbered over a dozen, split among three carriages. Bai Meng Jin rode with her older brother and sister. The blue roan pulled steady and swift, the wheels gliding over the road so smoothly it barely felt like travel at all.

Bai Meng Xing spent the first day plastered to the window, watching the landscape spill past. His eyes practically glittered. “This blue roan is incredible. If I had one, traveling would be effortless, Elder Sister…”

“Don’t even think about it,” Bai Meng Lian cut in without looking up.

“I haven’t even said what I wanted!” Bai Meng Xing protested.

“You don’t have to.” Bai Meng Lian rolled her eyes and shoved a thin manual into his hands. “Stop staring outside. Practice your runes.”

Bai Meng Xing stared at the booklet like it was a death sentence. “Elder Sister, we’re on the road. Does it really matter if I slack off a little?”

“Cultivation is about stealing every second.” Bai Meng Lian pointed across the carriage. “Look at Sister.”

Bai Meng Xing turned.

Bai Meng Jin sat with her back straight, eyes closed, breath steady—cultivating as if the jolting road didn’t exist. Hearing her name, she opened her eyes and grinned at him, bright as a blade.

Bai Meng Xing had no words.

“See?” Bai Meng Lian pounced on the opening, voice sharpening. “When you’re doing nothing, she’s cultivating. When you’re causing trouble everywhere, she’s still cultivating. Someone like you won’t catch up to her in 800 years.”

“I wasn’t going to catch up anyway.” Bai Meng Xing slumped. “She’s already Golden Core…”

“Still talking back?” Bai Meng Lian’s gaze turned dangerous. “Do you want next month’s pocket money or not?”

Bai Meng Xing shut his mouth immediately.

“Start,” Bai Meng Lian said, flipping the manual open. “By the time we reach the Cinnabar Cloud Palace, you’ll have memorized at least ten runes.”

“Ten?!” Bai Meng Xing looked ready to faint.

Bai Meng Lian lifted her brows. “Too few? Then make it fifteen.”

“No, no.” Bai Meng Xing waved both hands in surrender. “Ten is fine. Ten is perfect.”

At last the carriage fell quiet.

Bai Meng Xing muttered runes with a miserable face while Bai Meng Lian corrected him and scolded him whenever he tried to cut corners. Bai Meng Jin, from beginning to end, ignored them both and cultivated.

They traveled that way—resting by day, moving by night—and three days slipped past.

That evening, while they paused to rest, loud voices carried in from outside. Bai Meng Lian lifted the curtain and asked the driver, “Where are we? Why is it so lively?”

The attendant smiled. “Phoenix Parasol City. It’s the crossroads between north and south. Of course it’s lively.”

“Phoenix Parasol City?” Bai Meng Xing popped up so fast he nearly hit his head on the frame. He leaned out, eyes wide. “So many people! Elder Sister, look—look at that building! It’s huge! And all those lights…!”

Azure Cloud City suddenly felt like a puddle compared to this river. They stared until their eyes hurt, trying to take in everything at once.

The carriage kept rolling forward through the crowd and lanterns.

Then, without warning, it braked hard.

Bai Meng Xing and Bai Meng Lian lurched, nearly tumbling off the bench.

“What’s going on?” Bai Meng Xing yelped.

The attendant pointed ahead. “Two carriages collided.”

The moment he heard the word collided, Bai Meng Xing forgot he’d almost fallen on his face. His neck stretched like a crane. “Let me see! Let me see!”

Both carriages were lavish—gold and jade everywhere, patterns etched into the rails, gems set into the corners as if silver and stone were too plain. Even the mounts were top-tier spirit beasts.

One carriage was drawn by White-Hoofed Wu; the other, unbelievably, by a Kaiming Beast.

Bai Meng Xing practically drooled. “They’re rich.”

White-Hoofed Wu were famed for their beauty and always among the most expensive spirit horses. And that side had used four at once.

As for a Kaiming Beast… If any spirit-beast shop had one, it would be the pride of the entire city.

The White-Hoofed Wu side moved first. Two neat lines of maids stepped down. The one at the front—clearly the head maid—was beautiful, chin lifted, pride spilling out of her like perfume.

“Young Master Mo of the Mo Clan of Eternal Province is here,” she announced. “May I ask your name, Your Excellency?”

The Mo Clan of Eternal Province.

A powerful noble family. Their elder was even an elder of the Seven Stars Sect. No wonder their display was so grand.

The onlookers immediately began whispering.

Young Master Mo had thrown out his background right away, taking the upper hand without even lifting a finger. If the other party was weaker, they’d back down. If the other party was stronger, he could soften and turn it into a friendship. Either way, he wouldn’t lose.

But the other carriage didn’t answer.

No one stepped out. No one even shifted aside.

The head maid’s smile stiffened. She raised her voice, sharper now. “Just who are you, Your Excellency? You struck our carriage. Shouldn’t you at least explain yourself?”

This time a sound came from within, but it was only a cold snort—dismissive enough to feel like a slap.

As if that still wasn’t insult enough, the Kaiming Beast lazily lay down right in the middle of the road. Its tiger heads boredly licked each other’s fur.

“Outrageous!” The head maid’s face flushed. “So rude. I’ll teach you a lesson on behalf of your family head!”

She snapped her sleeve. A whip shot out, arcing toward the Kaiming Beast.

It missed, but it was enough.

The Kaiming Beast’s fur bristled. Sharp claws slid out with a soft scrape.

When the whip cracked again, the beast opened one tiger mouth and caught it between its teeth.

In front of a crowd, how could the maid retreat? If she couldn’t even discipline a spirit beast, she wouldn’t just lose her own face—she’d shame the Mo Clan.

She gathered her power and yanked.

The Kaiming Beast didn’t move.

Instead, she was dragged forward, foot by foot, until she was teetering on the edge of falling.

The maids behind her squealed.

The head maid’s cheeks burned. “What are you staring at?” she snapped. “Help me!”

Only then did the maids swarm in, pouring their power into the whip.

The more people pulled, the more amused the Kaiming Beast seemed. It leaned back and tugged the other way, as if this was the best game it had played in months.

“Roar—!”

With a sudden howl, it jerked its head. The whip tore free. The head maid felt herself go weightless—

—and went flying.

“Ah!”

She hit the ground hard, and the maids behind her toppled like dominos.

Silence held for one stunned beat.

Then the crowd’s expressions shifted, mockery blooming like bruises.

Bai Meng Xing covered his face in secondhand embarrassment. “The Mo Clan of Eternal Province is… just this?”

The crowd seemed to agree. Laughter and sideways looks turned toward the White-Hoofed Wu carriage.

At last the person inside could no longer pretend nothing had happened.

A voice called out, strained with forced composure. “My concubine’s maid was rude. I, Mo Qi, apologize on their behalf.”

A pause. “Brother, we may have had a clash, but meeting is fate. Are you truly unwilling to even share your name?”

After a moment of silence, the other carriage finally lifted its curtain.

A young man stepped down in fitted clothes. He wore soft armor and carried a sword at his waist. His posture was straight, his gaze cool—heroic in the way people wrote into legends.

The crowd couldn’t help admiring him.

No matter what kind of person Mo Qi was, this man alone had presence.

His eyes swept over the fallen maids as if they were nothing more than scattered leaves. Then he said, calm and cutting, “We were traveling down the street just fine. You rammed into us. That’s how this started.”

He tilted his head slightly. “If you’d spoken properly, we could’ve negotiated. But you marched out acting high and mighty.”

His mouth curved, not quite a smile. “So don’t blame us for not giving you face. You’re not worthy to know my young master’s name.”

A man like that was only a guard.

Then what kind of status did his young master have?

Bai Meng Xing let out a breathy, awed sound. It was his first time seeing what real young-master style looked like. Compared to this, he really had been an idiot back home.

Even Bai Meng Lian couldn’t help clapping softly. “Impressive. One sentence and he crushed their arrogance.”

Bai Meng Jin’s eyes narrowed.

That voice…

Why did it sound familiar?