Chapter 15: Father Was Deceived!
At Ning Qianqian's cry, Chu Xingchen stopped in his tracks.
He turned slightly, his calm gaze resting on the girl, whose expression wavered between hesitation and unease.
Although she had called out to him, her wariness hadn't lessened in the slightest.
He needed to handle this carefully if he wanted her to speak honestly.
"What is it?" Chu Xingchen asked, turning fully to face her, his tone even and patient.
Ning Qianqian bit her lip, hesitating before asking cautiously, "Immortal, which sect are you from?"
Without a second's hesitation, Chu Xingchen replied, "Central State—Myriad Arts Immortal Sect."
He felt no guilt for lying. After all, the girl had yet to tell him a single truth herself.
Deception was, after all, a two-way exchange.
Moreover, he didn't yet know her background, and the name "Heavenly Dao Alliance" sounded far too grand. He worried that hearing it might frighten her instead.
Ning Qianqian's eyes widened in apparent admiration.
But in truth, as a mortal who had never stepped into the world of cultivation, she had no idea what "Central State" even meant.
This world was vast—perhaps "boundless" would be an exaggeration, but it was certainly immense.
Even the smallest border kingdoms spanned thousands of miles.
The Southern Zhan Continent itself was one of the great realms; though Qingfeng Sect was located in a remote corner, it was still well-known in the region.
As for the areas where spiritual veins converged within the southern lands, countless sects flourished there.
To people here, Central State might as well have been another world altogether.
Had her father not told her that he was going to the Qingfeng Sect, Ning Qianqian—born to a humble farmer's family—would never have even heard the sect's name.
Her question had only been a way of subtly showing the masked man before her that she wasn't completely ignorant.
A warning of sorts—not to take her for a fool. Even if it didn't help much, it was better than doing nothing.
Still… Central State? She'd heard her father mention it before—a legendary land of cultivation.
And "Myriad Arts Immortal Sect"—what a grand-sounding name!
Myriad Arts Immortal Sect!
Just compare that to Qingfeng Sect!
Anyone could tell which one sounded stronger!
And besides, Myriad Arts Immortal Sect sounded like a righteous and noble sect.
But she had also heard that when dealing with righteous cultivators, one had to start by gaining their sympathy.
If you made them pity you, they'd feel moved and extend their help—like beggars earning coins through pitiful stories.
Ning Qianqian didn't like doing such things. Her father had said that it was shameful and dishonored their ancestors.
But when it came to a choice between losing face and losing her life, she was certain her father would choose the former.
So would she.
Besides, at this point, she had no power to save her father on her own—so she had to take a chance.
Taking a deep breath, she steadied her emotions. Then, as tears welled up, she recalled the pitiful expressions she'd seen on beggars before and did her best to imitate them.
With a quivering voice, she began, "Immortal, do you know what that Qingfeng Sect has done…"
Her voice caught, and she suddenly burst into a loud sob.
But as she continued, Chu Xingchen's expression beneath the mask began to twitch uncontrollably.
Her crying face looked so distorted that it was almost grotesque—her features twisted, shoulders trembling, and every few words interrupted by hiccuping gasps that made her seem like she was convulsing rather than crying.
And the act was painfully obvious. Every time she peeked up at him between sobs, there was a sly, calculating glint in her eyes.
Tears and snot mixed together on her dirty face, creating a rather horrific sight.
Does she… think this makes her look pitiable?
Does this girl not realize how bad her acting is?
Who in the world cries like that?
Still, since Ning Qianqian had chosen this approach, he might as well play along.
Suppressing the urge to comment, Chu Xingchen took a deep breath and asked in a shocked, concerned tone,
"What did they do?"
Ning Qianqian let out a miserable sob before words began spilling from her mouth like beans scattering from a basket.
"My father and I lived in Ning Family Hamlet. My mother passed away early because of illness, and it was my father who raised me through hardship."
"This year, our hamlet suffered a disaster. We barely had one meal in two days. That was when people from the Qingfeng Sect came—they tricked my father into becoming a cultivator."
"They said that once you cultivated immortality, you could have anything you wanted. My father is simple; he believed them. He only asked them for some food for me, then left with them."
"Just like that, my father abandoned me. And many of my elder brothers were deceived and taken away too."
Chu Xingchen looked at the frail, filthy girl before him and sighed softly.
Her father wasn't foolish—he had likely just wanted to leave a glimmer of hope for his daughter.
"How did you know they were liars?"
Hearing the question, Ning Qianqian hurriedly reached into her tattered clothing and pulled out a tightly wrapped bundle of cloth. Her trembling hands carefully unfolded it.
Inside wasn't anything precious—just a handful of dried yellow earth.
Chu Xingchen frowned slightly at the sight.
Ning Qianqian cupped the soil in her shaking hands, her expression finally showing genuine grief.
"Not long after those immortals left… the food they gave us all turned into yellow soil."
"Auntie from next door and Niuzi ate the white buns those immortals gave them. Not long after, they were both swollen to death from eating that dirt."
"So many people in the hamlet died…"
"My father was deceived. My brothers were deceived."
"They'll never become immortals. Those people from Qingfeng Sect aren't good at all. They'll die too… I only have my father left. He can abandon me, but I can't abandon him."
"I have to show this to him—only then will he believe me."
Chu Xingchen said nothing. He simply reached out and pinched a bit of the soil. There was still a faint trace of spiritual energy lingering within it.
He hadn't expected the Qingfeng Sect to be so vile—they wouldn't even leave real food for those they deceived.
Seeing the pleading look in Ning Qianqian's eyes, Chu Xingchen could only feel helpless.
If he only wanted to steal some spirit stones and leave, it wouldn't be difficult. But rescuing someone under the watch of a Golden Core cultivator and the Qingfeng Sect's reinforcements was another matter entirely.
Chances were high that he wouldn't be able to protect a mere mortal.
Still, nothing was impossible. Acting rashly would only lead to failure.
He sighed and looked earnestly at the frail little girl before him.
She no longer wore real shoes—just vines tied around her feet, stained with dried, dark-red blood.
Her face was blackened from exposure to the elements, and her thin body looked as though a light breeze could topple her.
These mountains were rugged and perilous, with steep cliffs and lurking beasts. Who knew what hardships she had endured to reach this place?
And how long had she wandered within the maze formation?
Looking at her, Chu Xingchen said seriously, "Saving your father isn't something that can be rushed. I need to make a proper plan first. Are you willing to come with me for now?"
After all, he still needed spirit stones. If planned carefully, rescuing Ning Qianqian's father might be done in the process.
Ning Qianqian hesitated. She wanted to stay, to see if there was even the slightest chance of finding her father.
Though she knew the odds were slim, she couldn't bring herself to give up even that.
"Can I wait for you here? I…"
Before she could finish, Chu Xingchen raised his hand to interrupt her. "You're not foolish. You should understand that staying here won't help your father."
Ning Qianqian fell silent, then nodded slowly. Her voice trembled as she pleaded,
"Then… if you decide not to save him, can you bring me back here instead?"
"I can't travel like you do, Immortal. Walking these paths… it's hard for me."
Chu Xingchen lowered his gaze toward the girl.
At that moment, all traces of her earlier performance had vanished.
Only the raw, desperate plea in her eyes remained.
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