335: Chapter 335 On the Official Road

His spine suddenly stiffened, and he whirled around as if struck by lightning, stumbling toward the gold-gilded, jade-inlaid carriage. His wide, dark-colored sleeves swept violently across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

He pressed himself against the cold carriage wall, whispering urgently with a strained voice. The trembling in his tone pierced through the twilight, each word seemingly forced out from between his teeth, raspy and cracking.

Before the words even faded, he abruptly raised his hand, his fingertips turning pale from the effort, and signaled sharply to his subordinates behind him.

In an instant, several heavy coin pouches were slammed onto the bluestone slabs.

The coarse burlap mouths burst open, and white silver ingots rolled out, striking the stone surface with a crisp clatter.

Bright yellow gold ingots rolled far away, refracting a blinding, scorching luster in the melting gold of the sunset that made it hard to keep one's eyes open.

Even more eye-catching were a few Low-Grade Spirit Stones, translucent and glowing with a faint, moon-like luminescence. A guard held them in both hands, his fingertips white with tension, carefully placing them aside. He even held his breath, terrified that the slightest bump would shatter these treasures.

Thin yet pure Spiritual Qi swirled around the Spirit Stones, its crispness standing in stark contrast to the vulgarity of the gold and silver—anyone with a discerning eye could tell at a glance that the value of these few Spirit Stones far exceeded everything else on the ground.

Another guard was already so terrified that his legs went weak and his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

He tremblingly unbuckled the sword at his waist, complete with its exquisite sharkskin scabbard, and placed it respectfully beside the Spirit Stones. The trembling of his fingertips made it nearly impossible to hold the hilt.

This sword seemed to have become a hot potato; the slightest touch could bring about a catastrophe.

"S-Senior! Th-this is all the money we have on us, and... anything else of value!"

The scarred leader's voice shook uncontrollably. Beads of cold sweat covered his forehead, winding down along the deep scars and dripping onto the lapel of his dark-colored martial attire, blooming into a small dark stain.

The fabric was soaked black with sweat, clinging tightly to his damp skin, revealing a chill that went straight to his bones.

Chu Changsheng stood with his hands behind his back.

His moon-white robes fluttered lightly in the evening breeze. As his sleeves danced, it seemed as if moonlight were flowing and winding around him, making him look noble and untouched by the mundane world.

His gaze swept indifferently over the valuables on the ground, his long, thick eyelashes drooping slightly as he gave a barely perceptible nod.

This action, so subtle it was almost negligible, felt like a supreme decree of pardon.

The scarred leader felt as if he had been granted a reprieve. His face went pale, then immediately flushed with the relief of having survived a disaster. He immediately rasped, his voice nearly cracking as he roared, "Go! Hurry, go!"

The men didn't even dare to look at the carriage again. They scrambled onto their horses, almost rolling and crawling in their haste, the reins pulled taut until they creaked.

They turned their horses around and fled frantically along the official road toward Linyuan City without looking back. The copper bells on the saddles jingled wildly, but they couldn't drown out the gasps that were so frantic they cracked.

The sound of hooves was as urgent as a war drum, kicking up clouds of dust that blotted out the sky.

They didn't even have the courage to look back—terrified that if they were even half a step too slow, they would be casually crushed by that moon-white figure, leaving not even a trace behind.

The official road instantly returned to deathly silence.

The wind swept past with dust, leaving only that lonely, magnificent carriage parked quietly in the middle of the road. The gold-gilded patterns on the carriage body glinted coldly under the setting sun.

And there was the pile of glowing spoils on the ground, gold, silver, and Spirit Stones reflecting each other, making them exceptionally eye-catching under the afterglow of the sunset.

Luo Xiaojiu watched all of this in astonishment.

Her small mouth was open wide enough to fit an egg, her eyes were wide round, and she had even forgotten to breathe. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest that it felt like it would shatter her ribs and jump out.

Was that... it?

Those fierce, menacing guards who, just a moment ago, looked like they wanted to swallow her whole—were they scared out of their wits by a light glance from Revered Master? They obediently handed over all their money and Spirit Stones, and even abandoned their expensive carriage to run away?

She slowly turned her head to look at Chu Changsheng, who remained as calm and composed as ever beside her. Her eyes were filled with near-fanatical worship and shock, and a stormy sea raged in her heart.

Revered Master's "passable" cultivation... was just a bit too "passable"!

This wasn't just passable; it was clearly unfathomable, like a god!

Chu Changsheng walked slowly to the pile of coin pouches and Spirit Stones, bent down, and casually picked up a Low-Grade Spirit Stone.

As his fingertips brushed against the cold stone surface, sensing the faint fluctuation of Spiritual Qi within, he cast a calm glance downward. There was not a ripple of emotion in his eyes, and he tossed it back onto the ground—as if it were nothing more than an ordinary pebble found on the roadside.

Afterward, he turned to look at Luo Xiaojiu, who was still stunned. His voice was flat and waveless, as if he were discussing the most mundane matter: "Clean this up."

"Ah? Oh! Okay! Okay!"

Luo Xiaojiu finally awoke from her daze. She snapped back to reality, an incredibly brilliant smile instantly blooming on her face. Her eyes curved into crescent moons, and the dimples on her cheeks sank deep.

She hurried over, trotting, and crouched on the ground. In a fluster, she gathered up all the coin pouches, gold, silver, and Spirit Stones, hugging them to her chest.

The heavy coin pouches weighed down her wrists, and they pressed against her chest, making it feel a bit tight, but her heart was blooming with joy. It was sweet, even sweeter than honey.

This was so much more than what she used to earn by struggling and scamming in the marketplace "doing business"! And it was so "easy"! It was practically effortless!

Carrying a full armful of spoils, she ran lightly to Chu Changsheng's side. She held them up high as if presenting a treasure, her small face full of pride and excitement as she sought praise. Her eyes were sparkling, as if they held all the stars in the sky.

"Revered Master! Look! So much money! And these shiny stones!"

"Hmm." Chu Changsheng responded indifferently. However, his gaze passed over her and once again landed on the carriage parked in the middle of the road. His eyes darkened slightly, and a subtle, cold light, like deep, icy water, flashed through his profound depths.

Luo Xiaojiu followed his gaze and only then realized belatedly—there was still someone in the carriage!

Didn't that scarred leader just say... it was the Young Revered Master of the Black Jiao Gang?

Her heart skipped a beat, as if struck by a heavy hammer. The smile on her face instantly froze, then faded away bit by bit, replaced by an irrepressible tension.

She carefully moved closer to Chu Changsheng, tugged gently on the hem of his robe, lowered her voice, and asked timidly:

"Revered Master, there is... still someone in the carriage. Should we...?"

Before she could finish, the carriage curtain was gently lifted by a slightly pale hand.

A silk-lined boot embroidered with cloud patterns landed on the ground first. Though the sole was covered in a bit of dust, it could not hide its exquisite craftsmanship.

Immediately after, a young man wearing magnificent golden robes stepped down, trembling, supported by the carriage driver who had been left behind when the others fled.

He looked to be only in his early twenties. His skin was so pale it was nearly transparent, he had heavy bags under his eyes, and the area beneath them was bruised and dark. His brow carried an unshakable air of dissipation and fatigue—clearly the look of someone who had long indulged in excess and neglected to Cultivate.

At this moment, his face was as white as thin paper, and his lips trembled uncontrollably. The way he looked at Chu Changsheng was as if he were staring at some prehistoric beast, filled with a terror that seeped into his bones, making even his Soul tremble.

He couldn't even stand steadily, his body shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. If not for the driver holding him tightly, he would have likely collapsed onto the ground, turning into a puddle of mush.

"S-Senior... spare me!"

Zhao Mang's voice shook like a rag torn by a gale. His legs went weak, and his knees struck the ground heavily, the collision with the bluestone making a dull thud.

If the driver beside him hadn't been quick-witted enough to hold his arm tightly, he would have already collapsed into a puddle of mush.

His pale face turned blue and purple from holding back his fear, and the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably as he desperately tried to force out a fawning and panicked smile—a smile that was uglier than crying:

"This Junior is Zhao Mang, the Young Revered Master of the Black Jiao Gang. I had eyes but failed to recognize a Revered Master, and I offended your immortal carriage! This wealth... is a meager gift from me to honor you! I implore you, Senior, to raise your hand and spare this Junior's life!"

Chu Changsheng stood with his hands behind his back. His moon-white robes drifted lightly in the mountain breeze, and as his sleeves fluttered, it seemed as if moonlight were flowing and winding around him, making him look too noble and refined to belong in this desolate wilderness.

His gaze swept indifferently over Zhao Mang, lingering for a moment on that face full of dissolute air and traces of indulgence, before finally settling on the faint, barely visible black Qi between his brows.

That black Qi was like threads and silk, lingering and refusing to disperse, faintly revealing an insidious, bone-eroding evil energy that was absolutely incomparable to ordinary, worldly foul air.

Chu Changsheng's eyes narrowed slightly. A few breaths later, he shifted his gaze away, his thin lips parting to utter two words, crisp and clear like an icy spring flowing over bluestone:

"Go."

These two words were light, yet they acted like a life-saving decree of pardon, instantly causing the taut nerves of Zhao Mang and the driver to snap.

Feeling as if they had been granted a reprieve, the two hurriedly bowed and cupped their hands, nodding their heads like garlic-pounders. Their expressions of gratitude were incoherent and disorganized.

How could they still care about that gold-gilded, jade-inlaid carriage? Supporting each other, they stumbled and charged forward along the official road, their boots crunching on the gravel, moving at a shockingly fast speed—as if a life-taking demon were truly chasing them from behind, terrified that Chu Changsheng would change his mind in the next second and raise a hand to crush them into dust.

In the blink of an eye, the swirling dust swallowed their figures, leaving only a few panicked footprints that were gradually smoothed away by the mountain wind on the bluestone slabs.

On Old Crow Slope, silence returned instantly. Only the Revered Master and disciple remained, along with the lone, magnificent carriage and the pile of gold, silver, and Spirit Stones gleaming in the sunset, appearing somewhat absurdly lively in the desolate mountain wilderness.

Luo Xiaojiu watched those two fleeing backs, curled her lips, her small face full of disdain, and snorted:

"So he was just a useless dandy; no wonder his guards were all so fierce—it was just bullying others by relying on power."