This is the true immortal of the Taoist sect.

The boy was overjoyed, his eyes filled with excitement.

"Really? That's great..."

The old man slowly got up, and the boy quickly went to help him.

To everyone's surprise, the old man waved his hand and insisted on standing up on his own.

The boy stood by nervously watching, and to his delight, the old man got off the bed effortlessly, even shaking his arms and legs and punching the air a few times.

"Father, you're really healed... This talisman truly is a treasure of the immortals..."

The old man was also somewhat excited.

However, she then felt a pang of self-reproach and said:

"It's a pity that your father wasted such a wonderful treasure. This should have been left to you, so you would have some security in the future..."

The boy immediately shook his head and said:

"Father, what are you saying? How could your son watch you suffer without helping you? As long as you recover, I would never hesitate to give up anything, not even a precious celestial treasure."

Upon hearing this, the old man's eyes immediately welled up with tears. He nodded emphatically and then turned his head away, not wanting the boy to see him crying.

The boy let out a long sigh, turned around, knelt down facing the door, and kowtowed three times, saying:

"Thank you, immortal, for saving my father. If I ever meet you again, I, Yan Zangfeng, will repay your kindness even if it means serving you like a slave."

The old man sighed heavily.

The more filial his son is, the more distressed he feels.

The youngest son should have been a carefree and free teenager, but now he is exhausted and struggling because of his old man.

The old man couldn't help but think of his eldest son who died trying to save him and his wife, and his heart ached uncontrollably.

Such pain would be unbearable even for the strongest man. The old man, who had been bedridden for a long time without uttering a sound, couldn't help but burst into tears.

Upon seeing his father's appearance, young Yan Zangfeng abruptly stood up and looked at his father, saying:

"Father, don't be sad. One day, I will definitely raze Hidden Sword Manor to the ground and avenge Mother, my brother, and all my fellow disciples in the Yan family..."

The old man wiped away his tears, held his son's hand tightly, and said:

"Alright, now that Father has fully recovered, let's work together to avenge them..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the roof of the thatched hut, Wang Jingshu stood tall.

She heard the entire conversation between the father and son inside the house.

This kind of scenario was commonplace for her during her more than twenty years of traveling the world.

Even after seeing each other many times, she still couldn't help but feel some sympathy when they met again.

Although Wang Jingshu could not fully empathize, she knew just how profound the pain of such a family being wiped out truly was.

Little did they know that even a highly accomplished cultivator like Senior Sister Mingyue, having experienced such a tragedy in her childhood, was still unable to fully recover.

This is why, despite having the highest aptitude for cultivation and being the first to achieve perfect cultivation, Senior Sister Mingyue is still unable to take that step and ascend to the Xuanhuang realm.

Hidden Sword Manor...

Wang Jingshu murmured softly.

Then, with a flash, he disappeared.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

About fifty miles away from Yongxing Town, there is a city called Shijian City.

The reason why Shijian City is called Shijian City is because the true master behind this city is the Western Branch, one of the eight major branches under the Qingyun Sword Sect.

Hidden Sword Manor is merely the nominal administrator of Sword Servant City.

In the central area north of Shijian City, there is a vast manor.

The pavilions, terraces, and winding streams within the manor form a striking contrast with the ordinary buildings outside.

This is the Hidden Sword Manor, the ruler of Shijian City.

Besides assisting the Western Branch in managing Shijian City and the many towns and villages under its jurisdiction, Hidden Sword Manor has another task: to collect famous swords and ore for forging swords for the Western Branch.

Therefore, although Hidden Sword Manor cannot compare to those sects in terms of strength, its financial resources are extremely impressive.

That evening, as the guards at the gate of Shijian City were about to close the city gate, a slender, delicate hand suddenly blocked the gap in the door, bringing the closing door to an abrupt halt.

The guard who was closing the door was furious upon seeing this, and flung open the door, shouting:

"Damn it, who came here looking for death? How dare you..."

When he saw who was outside the door, he suddenly stopped talking.

His eyes were filled with amazement and a hint of rising greed.

"Who is it? Daring to stop the door from closing?"

His companion, seeing him standing there motionless, came over and scolded him.

However, when he saw who was outside the door, he too was stunned and stood there.

"Please do me the favor and let me in..."

The cold voice brought the two guards back to their senses.

"Alright, alright...you've come at the perfect time..."

He then began to open the city gate for Wang Jingshu.

Wang Jingshu didn't look into their eyes, because she knew what was in them.

She lowered her head, whispered her thanks, and went inside.

"Halt! Do you have a pass to enter the city?"

Just as they were about to enter the city, a shout suddenly rang out from behind them.

She naturally didn't have a travel permit.

Wang Jingshu flicked her finger, and a silver ingot, weighing a full five taels, landed in the gatekeeper's hand.

The two guards' eyes lit up, and they immediately put it away.

Wang Jingshu continued walking inside.

But the greedy gatekeeper caught up with us again, grinning as he said:

"Where are you from, young lady? What brings you to Shijian City? Do you need a guide? I can take you there, and we can have a meal and a drink together..."

Wang Jingshu was already used to this kind of thing. She never concealed her appearance when she traveled the world, so it naturally attracted a lot of trouble.

Ye San Niang once jokingly said that Wang Jing Shu was fishing, deliberately luring those people into the trap.

Wang Jingshu, however, said that anyone who harbors evil intentions upon seeing her face deserves her punishment.

However, after so many years, Wang Jingshu's murderous aura has subsided considerably.

As the two guards approached step by step, she did not kill them. Instead, she raised her head and slowly looked at them.

In an instant, a sword intent that seemed capable of destroying the heavens and the earth crashed down.

The two gatekeepers, who were only at the second level of cultivation, froze instantly, stunned on the spot.

The lewdness and lust in his eyes vanished completely, leaving only endless fear.

Wang Jingshu withdrew her gaze and left without looking back.

It wasn't until long after she disappeared that the two of them came to their senses. They were already deathly pale, covered in cold sweat, and their clothes were soaked through.

One of them had yellowish fluid leaking from his crotch, which smelled foul.

"My goodness...who is this lady...?"

"No... my legs are weak... help me up..."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Inside the Hidden Sword Manor in Shijian City, on the rooftop of the five-story pavilion, Wang Jingshu slowly opened her eyes.

She had just scanned the entire manor with her divine sense and had clearly seen the cultivation level of everyone in the manor.

The strongest person in the manor only had a martial arts cultivation level of the fifth level, so to her, she was no different from an ordinary person without any cultivation.

Wang Jingshu jumped off the roof and went directly into the top floor of the pavilion called Mingjianlou.

He cast a spell to conceal his form and then sat down.

"Since we're already here, let's see if Hidden Sword Manor is as that young man described..."