Volume One, Chapter 18: First, Find a Mother for the Child

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The youthful and radiant Chu Rou’er felt a sudden chill in her heart, as if someone was spying on her, leaving her completely exposed without a shred of privacy.

The next morning.

Ye Bufan possessed the realm but lacked any martial arts techniques or skills, so he decided to learn some—even mundane martial arts would be better than none.

Besides, being unfamiliar with this place, his goal was clear: find a wife, have children, and build influence, starting with the very first step.

“Miss Chu, when you beat me the other day, I truly felt your heroic spirit and superb martial skills. I really want to learn; would you teach me?”

Chu Rou’er was delighted by the compliment and glanced at Ye Bufan.

His physique was indeed good—no, his body frame and bone structure looked excellent, very suitable for martial arts training.

Just as she was about to agree to teach him a few basic moves, Chu Xiong spoke up.

“Brother Ye, if you really want to learn, I can teach you a couple of moves.”

He saw this pretty-faced guy getting close to his innocent daughter and felt the need to put a stop to it. Otherwise, if his precious cabbage got eaten up, he would be heartbroken.

But to chase the man away now? In this desolate wilderness, leaving her alone would be dangerous, so his sense of chivalry wouldn’t allow that.

Ten days later.

“Master, good morning! I caught a wild pheasant today as a tribute to you.”

Seeing Chu Xiong willing to teach him, Ye Bufan didn’t hesitate to ask to become his disciple. That way, his relationship with Chu Rou’er would be that of senior sister and junior brother—much easier to pursue her.

However, perhaps sensing Ye Bufan’s intentions, Chu Xiong flatly refused, but Ye Bufan, thick-skinned, kept calling him “Master” persistently.

“Alright then! Your archery skills are truly exceptional; every shot hits its mark—such talent!”

Chu Xiong looked at Ye Bufan with admiration. Initially, he had planned to teach just a little, but he didn’t realize Ye Bufan’s current realm was mid Nascent Soul, with spiritual awareness, reflexes, agility, and stamina far beyond ordinary men, hence the perfect archery.

Chu Xiong instinctively knew he had found a martial prodigy, and with a newfound love for talent, he taught Ye Bufan a set of Errant Heart Fist and Ink-Dot Sword Techniques.

Chu Xiong’s style employed inner energy in his punches and sword strikes.

Ye Bufan, however, infused spiritual power into the techniques, making their potency vastly different—like heaven and earth.

Chu Rou’er bounced over to Ye Bufan, wearing a brand-new outfit, her face glowing with anticipation and joy.

“Junior Brother Ye, do you think my clothes look pretty today?”

Ye Bufan smiled subtly; Chu Rou’er was about to fall for him.

“They look great. Sister, you look beautiful in anything because the beauty lies in you; the clothes are just an accessory.”

“Hehe, really?”

Ye Bufan added, “But you’d look good even without wearing anything.”

At these words, a blush flushed across Chu Rou’er’s face instantly.

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She angrily punched Ye Bufan, but with restrained force, coyly saying, “Go to hell!”

Yet she missed.

“Haha, come on, chase me!”

“Hmph, you stay still, don’t run.”

“Sister, don’t chase me; you can’t beat me.”

“Hmph, I’m your senior sister; how could I lose to you?”

Ye Bufan chuckled, “I said ‘beat’ as in ‘do,’ not ‘fight’!”

Chu Rou’er froze for a moment, then her face flushed deeper.

“Ah, you’re so bad. Today, I’m definitely going to beat you to death.”

“Haha, Sister, come chase me! If you catch me, I’ll let you win—hehehe.”

“You lecher! Don’t run!”

“Haha, Sister, I may not be good at other things, but with you, I’m definitely very capable.”

Unable to catch him and teased by Ye Bufan’s words, Chu Rou’er was nearly in tears from frustration.

Luckily, her father and the senior brothers from their sect were far behind.

Seeing Chu Rou’er about to cry, Ye Bufan stopped, realizing it might be unwise to upset the girl; better to let her throw a couple of punches.

Between the deep woods on both sides, thick foliage blocked the sunlight, which only filtered through in dappled patterns, forming a narrow passage.

Suddenly, the lead scout raised his hand abruptly, his voice low and commanding.

“Everyone, stop and be on guard.”

Ye Bufan wore a nonchalant expression; his spiritual awareness had already detected a monster—Golden Core realm—and he was unafraid.

Just as Chu Xiong finished speaking, a sinister, mocking laugh resounded.

“You don’t need to be on guard anymore. None of you will escape. Hehehehe, hahaha!”

“Who’s there? Show yourself if you have the courage.”

Escort Master Yuan Ping drew his sword and flourished it around himself before pointing straight ahead, trying to detect something, but there was no response.

“I am Chu Xiong, head of the Zhen Tian Escort Agency. May I ask which righteous hero is here? Kindly show some respect and make this convenient.”

“Swish, swish!”

Two gusts of wind, and a shadowy figure appeared before them.

It looked both tangible and spectral, impossible to discern its true form.

A worn, ghostly voice spoke:

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“I’m just five of you short of collecting one hundred million mortal essences. Soon, I can reconstruct my body. Consider it an honor to die here, and I’ll make sure you understand that well.”

Chu Rou’er hid behind Ye Bufan, clutching his clothes tightly, trembling in fear.

Chu Xiong took the lead, sword flashing in a dazzling array.

“Die!”

The outcome was certain—utterly hopeless.

The shadow casually lifted a hand, generating a whirlwind around a great blade, which it swept into the vortex. Within a second, it transformed into a steel wire ball!

If not for the desire to absorb the essences of these people, it would have killed them already.

Chu Xiong was horrified and shouted loudly:

“Everyone, run! This is a cultivator!”

“Hehehe, you’ve figured it out. Do you think you can run? Come here obediently and let me drain you dry—you might die a bit happier that way.”

Everyone was terrified.

At this moment, Ye Bufan stepped forward.

“Junior Brother Ye, what are you doing?” Chu Rou’er asked anxiously.

“Nothing,” Ye Bufan replied.

He stared at the grotesque monster opposite him.

“You monster, you’ve harmed so many people; today, you must die.”

He immediately unleashed the newly learned Ink-Dot Sword Technique. Though his weapon was ordinary, bolstered by his Nascent Soul’s profound spiritual power, it carried an overwhelming aura of authority.

The swordplay flowed like calligraphy, with strokes hiding artistry within.

Each hook and dot shimmered like twinkling stars. One move consisted of three consecutive strikes: the first swift and fluttering like a dancing butterfly, confusing the enemy.

The second fast and aimed at the throat.

Although called two strikes, Ye Bufan’s speed made them overlap, appearing simultaneous.

The shadowy monster assumed Ye Bufan was just a mortal, at most skilled in mundane fist and foot techniques—what was there to fear?

So it paid little attention.

Ye Bufan teased with a sly smile.

“You’re here to send me money and equipment, right?”