Volume 2, Chapter 109 – The Master’s Whereabouts (Part 2)

“Hall Master Feng, how have you handled the leak regarding Qi-Leaking Powder in Golden Autumn County?”

Altar Master Xiao sipped his tea leisurely, not even bothering to look up as he asked.

“Rest assured, Altar Master, the matter has been settled.”

Feng Jin lied through his teeth.

“Oh? You do understand the consequences of lying to me, don’t you?”

Altar Master Xiao finally lifted his gaze, giving Feng Jin a sidelong glance.

“This subordinate understands.”

Feng Jin forced himself to reply.

“Good. Just to be safe, tell your underlings to lay low for now. They’ll resume activities only when I give the order.”

Altar Master Xiao issued his command coldly.

“Yes!”

Feng Jin bowed submissively before taking his leave.

With that, their conversation ended.

Naturally, Qi Huang abandoned Feng Jin and focused entirely on tailing Altar Master Xiao.

The man idled in the hall for a while before picking up a Thousand-Mile Communication Tube and summoning someone.

Before long, a lanky young man arrived.

“Ah Feng, go to Golden Autumn County. If you find out Feng Jin lied, execute every cult member under him.”

Altar Master Xiao ordered without hesitation.

“Understood!”

Ah Feng clasped his fists and accepted the command.

‘His methods are ruthlessly decisive—no wonder he became an altar master.’

Qi Huang’s expression turned grave.

That night, she took up lodging in a nearby inn, keeping a close watch on the medicinal shop.

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After closing time, she observed Altar Master Xiao entering his bedroom, retrieving a well-hidden ledger from a concealed bookshelf, and flipping through its contents.

Qi Huang extended her divine sense and nearly gasped in excitement—it was a sales record of Qi-Leaking Powder for Yongning Province, with every buyer meticulously documented.

She immediately realized that the person who had poisoned her years ago had most likely purchased the drug within this province—after all, no one would be foolish enough to go out of their way when a local source existed. If she could find a name, the truth would finally be revealed.

Heart pounding, she focused her divine sense intently.

However, Altar Master Xiao didn’t scrutinize the ledger in detail. After a cursory glance, he returned it to its hiding place and muttered to himself:

“Five years… and this is all the Qi-Leaking Powder the sect has allocated to me. Are they stockpiling for a major operation, or is there simply no more left? If it’s the latter, trying to overthrow the Immortal Alliance by force is nothing but a pipe dream!”

‘Five years?’

Qi Huang seized on the crucial detail. She scanned the ledger again and confirmed that the earliest entry was indeed only five years old.

‘How can this be?’

Her heart sank. She had been poisoned thirteen years ago—these records only went back five. Did that mean she would never uncover the truth?

For a moment, her mind was in turmoil. But she quickly steadied herself.

‘Even though I was poisoned, I somehow became Fairy Hongling’s doppelgänger. My life hasn’t been affected. Maybe I should set this aside for now. The most urgent matter is finding Master.’

The night passed without incident.

At noon the next day, a timid, middle-aged man of short stature entered the medicinal shop and approached Altar Master Xiao.

After a night of surveillance, Qi Huang had learned the man’s full name—Xiao Sha.

“Altar Master Xiao!”

The man knelt shakily on one knee.

“Who are you?”

Xiao Sha didn’t even look up.

“T-This subordinate is Li Wei, head of the Lishui County branch.”

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The short man stammered his reply.

“What do you want?”

Xiao Sha’s tone was impatient.

“I-I report to the altar master… one of my subordinates has gone missing. We still haven’t found him.”

Li Wei spoke haltingly, his words stumbling over each other.

“Oh? How long has he been missing?”

Xiao Sha finally lifted his head slightly, his drooping eyelids masking a flicker of killing intent.

“A month…”

Before Li Wei could finish, Xiao Sha suddenly struck.

With a mere glare, he sent a palm gust slicing through the air. A fierce wind erupted— BAM! —and Li Wei was sent flying backward, crashing into the courtyard. He coughed up several mouthfuls of blood.

‘Hiss…’

Qi Huang inhaled sharply.

‘To injure someone from a distance with just a palm gust—what level of physical cultivation does that require? Even Cheng Hongling, the strongest in the Honghua Sect, couldn’t do that. Cultivators focus on refining qi, not the body.’

“Useless! A whole month, and you still haven’t found him? And you dare report this only now? Do you not know the consequences?”

Xiao Sha rose slowly, his towering frame exuding mountainous pressure.

Though severely injured, Li Wei didn’t dare play dead. Like a beaten dog, he crawled back into the hall and began kowtowing frantically at Xiao Sha’s feet.

“Spare me, Altar Master!”

Xiao Sha took a deep breath, waiting for his anger to subside slightly before demanding coldly:

“What is the missing cultist’s name? Any distinguishing features?”

“H-He is called Yang Bing, around fifty years old, of average but slightly thin build. His most noticeable feature is a faintly hooked nose.”

Li Wei wiped blood from his lips as he answered.

‘Hooked nose? Yang Bing?’

Qi Huang shot up from her bed, her heart pounding wildly.

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In all her twenty-plus years of life, she had only ever met one person with a hooked nose—her master, Hu Bing. And the name was strikingly similar.

“A hooked nose? Distinctive, but not uncommon.”

Xiao Sha pondered briefly before ordering, “I’ll summon a portrait artist. Describe the man’s other features in detail. Once the portrait is done, I’ll distribute copies to every branch in Yongning Province and have all cultists search for him.”

“Thank you, Altar Master! Thank you!”

Li Wei kowtowed repeatedly in gratitude.

Soon, an artist arrived and, based on Li Wei’s descriptions, produced a portrait.

The moment Qi Huang saw it, she was certain—the missing cultist was none other than her master, Hu Bing.

‘So Master really did infiltrate the Severed Immortal Sect.’

She felt a surge of admiration, but it was quickly replaced by anxiety.

‘But he’s been missing for a month—what condition is he in now?’

Xiao Sha had the artist produce several more copies and dispatched them to all county branches.

Qi Huang was now pacing like an ant on a hot griddle. She wanted to rush out and search for her master immediately, but she had no idea where to start.

For now, she forced herself to wait—the Severed Immortal Sect had far more eyes and ears than she did alone.

Ten agonizing days passed.

Then, finally, news arrived.

A tall cultist rushed into the medicinal shop’s courtyard and reported breathlessly:

“Altar Master! We’ve found the man you ordered us to locate!”

“Speak!”

Xiao Sha commanded.

“He’s currently in Mǎ’ān Village, Changming County, Lishui Prefecture!”

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“What is he doing there?”

Xiao Sha frowned.

“We don’t know. We reported as soon as we spotted him!”

The cultist shook his head.

“Hmph! Does he think joining the Severed Immortal Sect is a public toilet—coming and going as he pleases?”

Xiao Sha’s face twisted into a snarl.

“Take ten men to Mǎ’ān Village. Don’t bother investigating why he’s there—just chop him into mincemeat. I want every cultist to see the price of desertion.”

“Yes!”

The cultist accepted the order and left.

But before he could even set out, Qi Huang had already vanished from the inn like a ghost, streaking toward Mǎ’ān Village with the speed of a tempest.

Nestled deep in the mountains of Changming County, Mǎ’ān Village was so remote that even government officials deliberately avoided it.

Hu Bing had been hiding here for a month—on the run from assassins.

Three years ago, he had left the mountains to investigate his disciple’s poisoning. After countless hardships, he had finally gained the trust of a low-ranking Severed Immortal Sect member two months ago and successfully infiltrated the organization.

He had expected to uncover clues quickly, but before he could gain a foothold, mysterious assassins appeared.

At first, he managed to fend them off, but recently, the attacks had grown fiercer. With no other choice, he had retreated to this isolated village to lay low, intending to regroup once the danger passed.

Though the village was remote, Hu Bing took no chances—he never stepped outside, relying on villagers to bring supplies from the county town.

He thought he had been careful enough.

But he never imagined his hunters would track him down yet again.

Due to the heavy yin energy, even at noon, the village remained shrouded in mist.

Hu Bing was practicing martial arts in the courtyard to pass the time when— rustle, rustle —the sound of footsteps crept along the outside wall.