Bai Shuo and her disciple often found themselves short on funds, which led them to “borrow” a chicken from Hua Hong every now and then. Once, she’d caught Bai Shuo and chased her halfway down the street. Ever since then, Bai Shuo had taken to calling her “Big Iron Hua,” and the two had become notorious rivals.
“Good job, disciple!” Bai Shuo beamed, clutching her stomach. “Tonight, we’re having beggar’s chicken! Hurry up—here’s the firewood.”
She handed Fan Yue the painting she’d just bought for thirty spirit pearls from Shopkeeper Zhi, not sparing it a second thought.
Fan Yue nodded, took it, and got to work preparing the chicken without hesitation.
Bai Shuo sat back in the old rattan chair Fan Yue had made her, swinging her feet as she counted on her fingers.
She’d already crossed Kunlun, Yun Xiao, and Bei Chen off her list. That left the Golden Sun High Seat of Heaven’s Palace, the Four High Lords of Wind, Fire, Thunder, and Lightning, as well as the demon world’s Tan Yu of Leng Quan Palace, Chang Quan of Jing You Mountain, and a few other elders. It was rumored that an ancient fire dragon king, one who’d once ruled the Abyssal Swamp, was also roaming the lower realms.
The further she went, the more she realized even her ten fingers weren’t enough to tally up all the possibilities.
Now that she was free from the daily worry over Chong Zhao, Bai Shuo could finally focus all her time on her search. Half a foot into the immortal world now, she could remember more and more about that night from her childhood. Although the rescuer’s face and name remained a mystery, she clearly recalled the fearsome nine-headed serpent demon who’d wanted her dead—a powerful demon lord, at least middle-level. Anyone who could defeat such a demon had to be immensely strong.
Within the Three Realms, only the heads of various immortal and demon sects could boast such high levels of power. There weren’t many of them, but certainly enough to complicate her search.
But each one held great authority, and their power was formidable. Even if she ever became a true immortal, meeting them would still be near-impossible. She’d heard long ago that Shunfeng Pavilion in Nan Hai City knew everything that happened across the Three Realms. As long as one could pay, they could buy any information they wanted. With her humble status, this roundabout method was her only option.
Bai Shuo was sure that even if she couldn’t remember the face, she’d recognize it the moment she saw the person’s spiritual portrait.
Clutching her empty money pouch, she sighed. Life was tough, and she had her little disciple to care for too. How many spirit pearls would this take her to save?
Lost in her reverie, Bai Shuo didn’t notice that Fan Yue had already set a steaming hot beggar’s chicken on the table before her. The entire bird had been sliced neatly, accompanied by peach blossom wine and a few pickled radish strips to cut the richness. Despite the hardship, Fan Yue had managed to make life not only bearable but even a little delicious.
Bai Shuo glanced over at a corner under the tree and spotted a few jars of peach blossom wine buried there again, with freshly picked radishes drying on the fence. She stared at her busy little disciple, who was hard at work, and took a bite of the chicken in her hand.
"My goodness, it’s delicious!" she thought to herself.
After all, he was a demigod. Where did he learn all of this? Could it be that Hao Yue Hall was so poor that even the hall master had to do menial labor to make a living?
"Master?" Fan Yue noticed Bai Shuo’s gaze fixed on him and stepped forward, pouring her a cup of peach blossom wine. "Here you go."
Just as Bai Shuo was about to take it, a loud, furious voice rang out from a nearby courtyard, accompanied by a flash of light.
"Ahh! You deadbeat monk! Did you steal my chicken again?!"
Bai Shuo and Fan Yue exchanged a quick glance, then both stared at the beggar’s chicken on the wooden table. In unison, they grabbed pieces of it and stuffed them in their mouths.
Thump, thump, thump! They gulped down the last bites just as a towering figure appeared at the entrance to their courtyard. The person was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, slathered in heavy makeup, and clutching a massive iron hammer, which she slammed onto the ground with a resounding thud that shook the entire shack.
“Hey, Sister Hua,” Bai Shuo quickly wiped her greasy fingers on her back and put on a broad smile. “Up so late? You’re not resting?”
The blacksmith Hua Hong’s large, bell-like eyes scanned the courtyard, her suspicion only growing when she didn’t spot her chicken. She turned her skeptical gaze on the pair. “What are you two doing?”
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