Chapter 81: Gongsun Peak

“Yes, we’ll leave at once!”
The young man in embroidered robes and his companions felt as though they’d been granted amnesty. Without needing any further command, they hurried away; the one who was stunned moments ago rushed to pick up the corpse of the small-eyed man, while the others, with water swords piercing their thighs, helped each other limp quickly into the distance.

“Young master, are we really just going to let this go?”
After passing several street corners, the man in blue carrying the corpse could no longer keep silent.
Cultivators were mysterious beings to ordinary mortals, but as retainers and guards of the Prefect’s residence, they were not unfamiliar with true cultivators—the young master himself was an esteemed disciple of an immortal sect.
The small-eyed man who had just died was none other than the brother of the man who spoke.
Witnessing his brother’s death, his heart burned with a desire to tear Chu Xiner to pieces, yet lacking the power to oppose a cultivator, he could only hope the young master would incite the Prefect to act.
After all, Lord Gongsun had become the ruler of Tian’nan City, supplanting Old Qin, thanks in part to the young master’s identity as a cultivator and the influence of his sect.
If only the young master and his fellow disciples could be persuaded to act, a mere young girl would be easily subdued.

“Let it go? How could I? Daring to humiliate me publicly—she must pay for this…”
Though Gongsun Tong was a debauched rake, he was not a fool like ordinary noble sons; otherwise, he wouldn’t have humbled himself before Chu Xiner, begging for mercy.
He understood well that cultivators killed without hesitation; had he not feigned weakness, he might already be dead.
A wise man does not suffer losses before his eyes, but as the Prefect’s son, Gongsun Tong would never swallow his anger. Now, having distanced himself from Chu Xiner, he answered his subordinate with bitter resolve.

“Sister, Yu’er thanks you for your rescue. May I ask your name?”
Elsewhere, Xiao Yu’er, clutching her torn white dress, bowed gracefully to the young woman before her.

“No need for formalities. I am Chu Xiner. You may call me Sister Xiner.”
Chu Xiner wished to reveal her identity, so as to prove she was unrelated to the murder of Huang Yipeng thousands of miles away; she did not conceal her name.
As for sparing the young rake, it was mainly for the sake of the girl before her.
After all, she was not bound to the mortal world—if she killed someone, she could simply leave; but Xiao Yu’er and her family would surely suffer reprisals.

In Chu Xiner’s view, she had already made an example by punishing them; if the young rake and the Prefect’s household were sensible, they should restrain themselves.
She did not expect Gongsun Tong to be so bold as to seek revenge against her, a cultivator.

“Oh, so you’re Sister Xiner. You must not be from Tian’nan City. If you have nowhere to stay, I would like to invite you to the Xiao family as my guest. Would Sister accept?”
Xiao Yu’er had just entered the path of cultivation, and had many questions about the practice with no one to ask. She sensed the extraordinary power in the young woman before her, and was eager to extend the invitation.

“Very well, I shall accept your hospitality.”
Chu Xiner had come to Tian’nan City seeking an inn for rest, intending to return to the Qingye Sect afterward.
But after publicly disciplining the Prefect’s son, any inn would certainly attract attention; following Xiao Yu’er to her home promised more peace.

“Sister Xiner, please!”
Xiao Yu’er, delighted, quickly led Chu Xiner toward the Xiao residence. The onlookers whispered among themselves, but none dared disrespect an immortal master, making way as they passed.

In the Prefect’s residence, the lavish and opulent hall was occupied by a plump middle-aged man entertaining two young men in Daoist robes over tea. Beside him stood a boy in white, about fourteen or fifteen years old.

“Nephews, it is a rare privilege for you to accompany Feng’er on his journey down the mountain to Tian’nan City. Please honor us by staying longer…”
Gongsun Yang valued his younger son, Gongsun Feng, far more than the useless Gongsun Tong. With Gongsun Feng returning home with two fellow disciples, his pride and joy were obvious.

“You flatter us, Uncle,” replied Gongsun Feng, whose cultivation was only at the eleventh level of Qi Refining. Though he joined the sect late, his exceptional talent earned him the favor of a Foundation Establishment uncle, who accepted him as a named disciple.
The two Daoist-robed youths, both still in the Qi Refining stage, responded modestly, but their conversation was interrupted by sudden commotion outside.

The identity of an immortal master was precious; who dared make such noise at this hour? How utterly lacking in decorum. Gongsun Yang’s face darkened at once.
Meanwhile, the brows of the two Daoist youths furrowed—not out of anger at the disturbance, but because their spiritual senses detected Gongsun Tong and the wounded retainers behind him.

The white-clad boy, Gongsun Feng, spoke: “It’s my brother. What happened? Most of his men are seriously injured, and one has died from a blade through the heart…”

Gongsun Feng and Gongsun Tong were half-brothers. He disliked the elder, who was notorious for his debauchery.
Still, they shared a father, and seeing him apparently bullied by outsiders, his tone became naturally hostile.

As they spoke, Gongsun Tong staggered through the door, playing the victim first:
“Father, your son has been bullied—you must avenge me… Ah, Second Brother, you’re here as well! Hurry and capture that witch!”

Seeing his unworthy son so rude, Gongsun Yang offered an awkward smile to the two Daoist youths. Before he could explain, Gongsun Feng countered:
“Witch? What witch? Brother, tell us clearly what happened.”

“Tong’er, mind your manners. Come and greet the two immortal masters—they are your brother’s fellow disciples. This is Master Wu…”
Taking the opportunity, Gongsun Yang stood and rebuked him, introducing the two Daoist youths.

“Greetings, Master Li. Greetings, Master Wu. Here’s what happened…”
Upon learning these strangers were cultivators, Gongsun Tong was overjoyed.
Fate had turned in his favor; earlier he’d been plotting against Chu Xiner, now reinforcements had appeared at home. After bowing to them, he began exaggerating the story.

In his account, there was no mention of his attempt to seize a young woman; instead, Chu Xiner was portrayed as abusing her status as a cultivator, tyrannizing and slaughtering innocents without cause.
He painted himself as the innocent victim and made the other out to be a villain of the worst kind.

“Senior brothers, since someone has dared to bully the Gongsun family, this cannot go unanswered. Excuse me, I’ll go pay this witch a visit.”

Gongsun Feng did not believe his elder brother’s words—he knew well enough what kind of person Tong was.
Yet, as the ruling family of Tian’nan City, if they tolerated such affronts from an itinerant female cultivator, they would become the city’s laughingstock.

Thus, Gongsun Feng apologized to the Daoist youths and prepared to confront Chu Xiner.