Chapter Twenty: The Mysterious Person

Qing'an Tavern was the only establishment in Xuanlin City that did not fall in with the corrupt ways of the city lord, and was run by a man of formidable strength and unyielding character. At this moment, Fire Qilin and Little Qing were residing in one of its upstairs rooms.

Just an incense stick’s time before, Fire Qilin and Little Qing had fallen unconscious not far from the tavern, and were rescued by a kind-hearted soul who happened to pass by. That man was Zhao Quan, the city lord’s brewer—a master both in his craft and martial prowess. His relationship with the city lord was one of utility, built solely on material gain; beyond business, the two had little contact and no real friendship.

As fortune would have it, Zhao Quan was in the city that day. While other passersby ignored the two fallen youths, he did not hesitate to carry them to his tavern and see to their care.

By the time the second watch of the night arrived, Fire Qilin and Little Qing finally awoke from their stupor. They opened their eyes to an unfamiliar room, confusion and uncertainty filling their hearts. Just then, a young attendant entered, heightening their alertness.

“You’re awake,” the attendant said. “I’ve brought some food for you. It’s on the table—help yourselves if you’re hungry.”

He paused, as if sensing their wariness. “Don’t worry. There’s no poison in the food. If I meant you harm, you’d have met King Yama by now.”

With that, he departed downstairs. Their rescue, the food, even the attendant’s words—all had been at Zhao Quan’s behest. One could not help but admire Zhao Quan’s benevolence; not many would go to such lengths for two strangers.

Perhaps reassured by the attendant’s parting words, Fire Qilin and Little Qing set aside their misgivings. They dragged their weary bodies to the table and ate hungrily. When they had finished, they meditated and trained through the night until the rooster crowed at dawn. As the first light broke, they prepared to escape the city.

Before leaving, they placed a letter on the table, a token of gratitude, then quietly slipped away.

However, by the time they reached the North Gate, the guards had changed shifts and patrols were vigilant—precisely as the city lord had ordered. He knew Fire Qilin and Little Qing’s whereabouts. To avoid jeopardizing an important relationship, he tightened the watch at every gate. After all, he and his rival were evenly matched; neither could afford a direct confrontation, and provoking the other would serve neither party.

In this way, he ensured that his rival would neither shelter nor intervene on behalf of the two fugitives, but simply stand aside. It was a shrewd plan, for though events did not unfold exactly as he had foreseen, the outcome matched his expectations: Fire Qilin and Little Qing, desperate, attempted to flee together.

They thought their plan clever, never imagining that the city lord had already anticipated their move. Now, faced with this predicament, what were they to do?

“Shall we force our way out?” Fire Qilin asked.

“We have no other choice,” Little Qing replied. “Look, there aren’t many guards at the gate. If we rush them, we have a good chance.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”

With that, the two surged forward. Reaching the city gate, they each struck with their palms, shattering the doors. The guards, quick to react, dodged aside, but one of them unleashed the power of the Water Dao, sending out a signal for reinforcements.

This was the city lord’s order to every gate captain: upon sighting Fire Qilin and Little Qing, do not engage—simply raise the alarm.

As for the pursuit, the city lord had decreed that he would capture the two himself, to satisfy the vengeance burning in his heart.

Seeing the broken gate, Fire Qilin and Little Qing did not pause to learn what the guards had done. Drawing on all their strength, they rushed beyond the city walls.

Meanwhile, in the city lord’s residence, the lord himself glimpsed the signal rising over the north gate. With a single step, he mounted his sword and soared through the sky, racing toward the escapees, furious at the thought that they might slip away.

No matter how fast the two children ran, they could not match the speed of sword flight. His anger was justified—he ached to tear them to pieces, to avenge his son’s death.

As dawn crept across the sky, in the woods outside the city, Fire Qilin and Little Qing were overtaken by the city lord. He hovered above on his flying sword, eyes blazing with hatred, fists clenched, ready to strike.

But just then, the sky darkened. Black clouds gathered overhead, and a swirling void appeared, crackling with lightning.

Suddenly, a woman dropped from the black hole. Her clothing was strange, unlike anything of this era, but with a blink she conjured a long robe around herself, gripping an unfamiliar object tightly in her hand.

She landed between the two parties. All present stared in bewilderment.

“Hey, little brother!” she called. “Can you tell me where we are? What year is it? And how far is it to the Kingdom of Spring and Autumn?”

“Are you an immortal, big sister?” Fire Qilin asked, wide-eyed.

“Step aside, friend,” the city lord, Xuan Yijian, snapped. “I have a private score to settle with these two. I advise you not to meddle.”

“You’re too noisy,” Murong Xue replied.

In an instant, the city lord froze in midair, unable to move, though his eyes darted about in panic.

The cause was the item in Murong Xue’s hand—a magical artifact, unknown to anyone in this realm.

With silence restored, she turned to Fire Qilin and began her questioning anew.

Fire Qilin, understanding her power, did not dare antagonize her. He promptly answered all her questions; she was clearly not one to cross, given how swiftly she had immobilized the city lord.

“No calendar?” Murong Xue mused. “Pre-First Era? Is there a problem with the device? But the Kingdom of Spring and Autumn exists… Could it be?”

She turned to Fire Qilin. “Tell me, little brother, are the Northern Tomb Kingdom and the Qiao Xia Kingdom still around?”

Fire Qilin nodded, confirming her suspicions.

Her mood brightened. The device had not malfunctioned—it had sent her to the era before the founding of the Spring and Autumn Kingdom, explaining the lack of a calendar.

Yes, Murong Xue was from the distant future, thousands of years ahead. In the year 2188, human civilization had reached dazzling heights. A group of renowned scientists had created the world’s first time-travel device. As the inaugural traveler, Murong Xue’s mission was to witness history firsthand and return to recount her experiences for the future world.

Now, she had truly crossed through time, arriving at the dawn of history. One task remained before she could return to her own era.

Having clarified her situation, she resolved to travel with Fire Qilin—because she knew both him and Little Qing, though the versions she knew belonged to the future. To them, she was a stranger; to her, they were old acquaintances.

Fire Qilin and Little Qing were delighted. Why refuse the company of a beautiful and supremely skilled woman on their journey to the Pavilion of Carefree Wanderings? Only a fool would decline.

And so, under the resentful gaze of the immobilized city lord, the three set out together.

Only an hour later did the city lord regain his freedom. But by then, Fire Qilin and his companions were long gone. Even if he caught up, he would only be frozen again by the woman’s artifact—another hour lost, and the children further beyond reach.

Would he simply give up? Never. Could he call himself a father if he did not avenge his son?

But he needed a flawless plan to capture the two. Otherwise, he would be paralyzed by the mysterious woman before even reaching them.

He racked his brain for a solution as he soared onward by sword.

Meanwhile, in the woods near a distant village, the three companions were making their way forward.

“I can’t go on!” Murong Xue exclaimed, collapsing dramatically. “Let’s rest for a while. I’m not like you two, leaping over rooftops and running up walls.”

“Aren’t you an immortal, big sister?” Little Qing asked. “Why not fly with your immortal arts?”

“Of course I am!” Murong Xue retorted. “But ever since I arrived in this mortal world, all my immortal techniques have failed me—only this demon-subduing staff still works. Otherwise, I could fly straight to the imperial palace in an instant—do you believe me?”

She sighed. “Cultivators truly are extraordinary. If not for months of physical training before this mission, I’d have collapsed long ago. Turns out that pre-mission training was worth it.”

She remembered how grueling the training had been, how she’d complained at first and only adapted with time, eventually earning first place and the right to make this journey. It had not been easy.

But now, meeting true cultivators, she realized the gap between them was immeasurable. Her hard-won first place meant nothing in the face of their abilities.

She was already out of breath, yet these two ten-year-old children showed no fatigue—on the contrary, they seemed full of energy. How could an ordinary mortal like her compare?

“Big sister, there’s a village just ahead,” Fire Qilin said. “Hold on a little longer—we can rest there.”

“You’re not lying to me, are you? Be careful, or I’ll use my demon-subduing staff on you!”

“I’m not lying, I promise!” Fire Qilin insisted. “If you can’t go on, I’ll carry you. How about that?”

He sprang down from a tree, crouched in front of her, and offered his back.

He could see that the immortal sister truly needed to rest. Perhaps, as she claimed, this was the mortal world and not her celestial realm—without her powers, she was at a disadvantage.

So be it. He would carry her for this stretch in gratitude for the life she had just saved.

Murong Xue hopped onto his back, and Fire Qilin carried her toward the distant village.