Chapter 84 Encountering a Rude Young Man on the Official Road

The jade pendant had been unresponsive for quite some time, but the moment Su Fan closed his eyes, he felt as though it trembled slightly. Suppressing his curiosity, he kept his eyes tightly shut.

Darkness—still darkness. Yet Su Fan sensed that this was not the darkness of before. It was as if he had been transported to a different space, a darkness unlike the previous one.

Suddenly, the darkness vanished. A crimson glow overwhelmed Su Fan’s vision, red suffusing the entire space. In the next instant the red faded, giving way to orange, which then claimed the entire void.

The colors kept changing, and changing again, until they became violet, then reverted to red. It was as if a seven-colored halo hovered before his eyes, only this time it drew ever closer.

So close now that only one color filled his sight, and the changes accelerated in frequency. A stirring rose in Su Fan’s heart; he wondered if, in the next moment, that white light would descend again.

With eyes wide open, he waited for the shifting colors, waited for the white light to appear—hoping for another chance to comprehend the Seven Colors of Tianyuan.

Yet the white light did not come. Instead, darkness returned, enveloping everything once more. Su Fan slowly opened his eyes; Red Kite was nowhere to be seen, nor were Qin Yu and Xiao Lin.

But he saw a black silhouette—not just a shadow, but a man garbed in black, standing tall and proud, with the air of an immortal. Su Fan knew him intimately: it was the very likeness of the statue outside the Grandmaster’s Hall—Tianyuanzi.

Though Su Fan’s heart churned, his expression remained composed. In a low voice, he asked, “Senior, are you Tianyuanzi?”

The shadow did not reply or move, as if it were merely an illusion. Su Fan coughed quietly, recalling how Hong Ling had said Tianyuanzi had long since passed away, while the elder in violet claimed he had gone on an immortal journey. Yet so many years had gone by—it seemed impossible he would appear here.

Often, things happen quite contrary to one’s expectations.

The shadow moved and began forming seals with his fingers. Slowly, his hands traced out enigmatic incantations, each one flashing in the air. Su Fan stared, transfixed, as the shadow drifted into the unfathomable distance.

“Light.”

The word echoed as if from an endless abyss—profound, resonant, and all the more daunting.

As the word left his lips, a white light pierced the darkness at its farthest edge—the very same white, the very Seven Colors of Tianyuan that Su Fan had so desperately sought. In haste, Su Fan scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the light.

But in a flash, the white light split apart—dividing into seven hues, each one shining upon Su Fan. In that moment, clarity dawned upon him.

When the colors unite, there is light; light is brightness, and brightness is white. Such a simple truth, yet he had failed to grasp it. The sunlight he saw each day had not even crossed his mind, perhaps muddled by the myriad colors of the seven sects within Tianyuan Gate.

With a sigh, Su Fan slowly stood. He formed a seal with his hand and softly uttered, “Extinguish.”

At the word’s utterance, the seven colors converged. In a breath, the four walls were swallowed by darkness. White light split into seven colors; the seven colors, gathered, became darkness. Darkness emerged, overwhelming the world.

Indeed, Tianyuanzi was a prodigy of the ages. He had foreseen the inner strife of the seven branches, and so, in creating this technique, wove his own sorrow into it.

Su Fan closed his eyes, feeling the shifting of the seven colors. With this technique, the seven branches of Tianyuan would never possess a method to rival it, for all their arts originated from these Seven Colors of Tianyuan.

No wonder the elder in green insisted on Lin Ling entering the Hall of Seven Colors, or why Red Kite was repeatedly sent in by the elder in red. Alas, none of them possessed such fortune. In the end, this earth-shattering divine art had come to Su Fan. Overjoyed, he suddenly noticed the jade pendant at his waist quivering once more.

He quickly grasped it, and at once, a sharp pain shot from his palm throughout his body.

“We should go in.”

When Su Fan opened his eyes again, he found Xiao Lin gazing at him in puzzlement, the scene around them frozen at the very instant before they had entered. Red Kite and Qin Yu had already gone inside. Su Fan glanced at the still-open doors to the Hall of Seven Colors. Hastily releasing his grip on the pendant, he murmured, “You all go ahead. I won’t be joining you.”

Xiao Lin gave a helpless smile and strode into the hall. Su Fan watched as the three sat cross-legged, and when the doors slowly closed, he finally let out a deep breath and sat beneath a tree. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow—when it had appeared, he did not know—and the hand that had held the jade pendant still trembled uncontrollably.

How could it be that, in just an instant, it felt as though an eternity had passed? Like a dream, like a vision—yet that shadow, that incantation, was etched clearly in his mind.

He had thought it was his own intelligence at work; now he realized the jade pendant had aided him. Could it be that the Hall of Seven Colors was somehow connected to this pendant?

Speculating, Su Fan took out the jade pendant to examine it. Yet as before, it revealed nothing, as if it were no more than a common trinket. Only the gentle stream of spiritual energy continued to flow ceaselessly into his body.

“Why didn’t you go in?”

A deep and authoritative voice reached Su Fan’s ears. Startled as if struck by lightning, he quickly rose to face the approaching elder in red, then lowered his head and stammered, “This disciple is dull-witted and fears he would gain nothing in the Hall of Seven Colors, only hindering his senior brothers’ progress. So I did not enter.”

The elder in red shot Su Fan a cold glare before turning to leave. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Since you are unwilling to go to Luo City, I will assign you to serve as a steward at the Prefect’s Office. This is a trial every new disciple must undergo.”

Indeed, it was a coveted trial for every initiate—managing men, overseeing a city. Within every city, there were sects, and those sects would send gifts to those guarding the city. The benefits were endless, and the salary from Tianyuan Gate far exceeded anything available within the sects themselves.

If not for reasons concerning Wuming, Su Fan would have gladly gone to Luo City as a general. At the very least, he was familiar with Luo City and fondly remembered the days spent sipping tea and listening to stories there.

But time changes, and so do the affairs of the world. That life was now frozen in the past, never to return.

With a sigh, Su Fan lightly stepped into the air and vanished from outside the Hall of Seven Colors.

After consulting a map, Su Fan had a rough idea of the Prefect’s Office’s location. It was in Fallen Immortal City—a city much larger than Luo City, at least three or four times its size on the map. Within were many noble families and commoners, and the Prefect’s Office even had its own shops there.

It was now noon, and a wide road stretched a hundred miles outside Fallen Immortal City. At this moment, the road was empty. Su Fan landed on it atop a purple shadow, a thousand thoughts swirling in his heart.

With his great vengeance fulfilled, his heart was filled with joy. Mastering a marvelous technique and possessing a thousand Tianyuan pills brought delight upon delight. Su Fan had not refused the elder in red; twice already he had declined, and that was enough.

For a sect master of Tianyuan Gate to be refused twice by a junior was unheard of, even among the heads of its seven branches. Yet Su Fan had no choice—he did not wish to offend such a figure.

Fortunately, he was very willing to accept this assignment, even if the prefect was of the red branch. The prospect of being far from Tianyuan Gate was relaxing in itself; indeed, he would have agreed to go to Luo City long ago if not for Wuming’s sake.

Su Fan was familiar with Luo City, having spent years there sipping tea, listening to stories, watching falling petals from idle courtyards—a life truly serene.

Yet life always pushes you forward; fate will not let you remain idle, always finding tasks for you to fulfill. Su Fan, for his part, did not complain but endured in silence.

Just as now, the official road was stiflingly hot, deterring all travelers. Su Fan, who could have flown in comfort that others could only dream of, chose instead to walk this sun-baked road.

The road was tranquil, the breeze rustling through the willows. In stillness, one could hear the gurgle of the brook and the leaping of fish by the roadside.

Suddenly, clouds of dust rose ahead, veiling the sky. The neighing of horses grew louder. Su Fan’s divine sense flickered; with a smile, he stepped aside to await the passing of the approaching riders.

As the dust drew near, he saw it was indeed a group of pitch-black horses, five or six in number. But then Su Fan was taken aback: running ahead of the horses, within the swirling dust, was a young boy.

It was not the boy’s speed that surprised Su Fan, but rather that, with his spiritual sense, he had not detected the youth at all.

In a flash, the boy passed Su Fan. Suddenly, he stopped, and the black horses thundered after him, unable to halt as nimbly. One horse barreled straight for the boy, its rider alarmed, frantically pulling at the reins. But the horse scarcely veered, still charging directly at Su Fan.

With a leap, the boy landed in front of Su Fan, lifted his small hand, and struck down hard—right upon the horse’s head.

In an instant, the horse froze in place. The boy’s feet had not shifted an inch. His grimy face betrayed no emotion as he glanced coldly at the rider.

Su Fan smiled, cupped his hands, and said, “Thank you, young friend, for saving my life.”

The boy grinned. “Since you want to thank me, then…” He shot a fierce glare at the rider and continued, “then lend me some money to give to these people.”

Su Fan paused. He no longer carried mortal currency, though he had some items that could be exchanged. Reaching into his storage pouch, he produced a jade bracelet and handed it to the rider. “I have no silver on me, so I can only offer this. I hope it suffices.”

It was a trinket he’d once taken from Luo Xun and his companions in Luo City, kept for just such a day. He hadn’t expected it to come in handy now.

The rider stared, hastily accepting the bracelet, and said with a mournful voice, “It’s enough, more than enough.” With that, he turned and rode away, the other horses following in his wake.

The boy scowled and shouted, “You fool! Why ask if it’s enough? It’s worth far more than what you need!”

Su Fan blinked and smiled. “Young man, is that any way to speak to your elders?”

The boy plopped down impatiently, pouting. “Young man? I’m over a hundred years old! You should at least call me ‘big brother.’”