Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Journey

Shen Yu was never fond of trouble, so it suddenly struck him that driving a carriage for someone was much simpler than acting as a guard. Yet those around him clearly did not share this view; their laughter rang out in boisterous waves. Their amusement was kind, for in their eyes, he was but another young man of meager skill hoping to scrape together some coins.

The old man, hearing this, wore an expression of helpless resignation. However, seeing the earnest look in Shen Yu’s eyes, he patiently explained, “This journey is long and perilous. If you lack strength, you may very well lose your life.” His voice was clear and intended more for the surrounding onlookers than for Shen Yu himself. As expected, several young men who had seemed tempted by the offer now quietly retreated a few steps.

Shen Yu’s gaze swept over the group. Besides the old man and the rugged fellow, inside the carriage, faintly scented and luxurious, sat two women. What surprised him most was that one of the women was a cultivator as well, though her cultivation was not high—she had just stepped into the eighth level of Qi Refinement.

The lower the cultivation, the less trouble one tends to attract. Shen Yu was quite satisfied and said coolly, “I don’t mind.”

“Nonsense,” the old man grumbled, frowning at Shen Yu’s obliviousness. He was about to protest further when someone abruptly interrupted him.

“Let him,” came a woman’s voice.

The curtain lifted, revealing a tall woman. Clad in green, her figure was graceful and sinuous, and what drew the most attention were her long, shapely legs, taut and striking. The only disappointment, perhaps, was her unremarkable face, which seemed at odds with her exceptional form.

“The young mistress says it’s unreasonable for Old Kou to drive every day. Let this man do it,” the woman declared. She spoke with the imperious detachment of one from a noble house, leaving no room for refusal. She looked at Shen Yu and said, “Let’s be clear: if we encounter trouble beyond your ability to handle, no one will be able to look out for you. You’ll be on your own.”

“Very well,” Shen Yu replied.

The old man hesitated, caught off guard when the youth strode straight toward the empty carriage. Startled, the old man called out, “Wait!” The maid seemed to realize something as well, instinctively reaching out to stop him. The burly man at the other carriage’s head sneered, folding his arms, clearly expecting a spectacle.

The mounts they rode were no ordinary horses but magical beasts from the bitter western lands called Mountain-Gazers. These beasts possessed astonishing endurance and strength, with solitary and wild natures. Many cultivation sects kept them for hauling felled trees and boulders. Any ordinary mortal who approached without caution would be kicked to death.

But this rough fellow was a temporary guard, recruited only for a Strengthening Pill, and had no intention of saving a reckless fool.

He watched, expecting carnage, but what happened next left him wide-eyed. The towering Mountain-Gazer, larger than any common horse, did not lash out at Shen Yu as everyone anticipated. Instead, it gently lowered its head, nudged Shen Yu’s side, then bent its forelegs, respectfully letting him climb onto the driver’s seat.

The onlookers, unfamiliar with the true nature of these beasts, merely thought it gentle and intelligent. But those who knew better could hardly believe their eyes. The old man, who had raised Mountain-Gazers for decades and knew their wildness, had never seen such docility—not even toward himself. The rough fellow stared as if he’d seen a deity.

“Let’s go,” Shen Yu said, leaning nonchalantly on the carriage, breaking the silence. “Looks like it’s going to rain.”

The old man and the maid exchanged a glance, reading the bewilderment and shock in each other’s eyes. In a moment, they seemed to reach a tacit understanding. The two elegant carriages set out, one behind the other, passing through the city gates and gradually vanishing into the wilderness.

On the city wall, a man in black, wearing a bamboo hat, finally lifted his head, fixing a venomous, hateful stare on Shen Yu’s distant figure.

…

They traversed mountains and ridges. Though the Mountain-Gazers were magical beasts, the steep and rugged paths wore on the travelers. The three cultivators were able to endure, but the two ladies in the carriage were clearly exhausted, and their progress was slow.

Over the days, though Shen Yu spoke little, he learned something of his companions. The white-haired elder was Kou Wang—old and frail in Shen Yu’s eyes, of poor cultivation, yet by mortal standards, a minor celebrity as a reclusive immortal. The rough man was Jiang Xianghu, a martial artist recruited from Liyang City, recently advanced to the fifth level of Initial Sense.

Their task was to escort the esteemed eldest daughter of a prominent noble house of the Da Li Dynasty to study in the East Ancestral Province, though the exact destination remained undisclosed. Shen Yu occasionally glimpsed her face—beautiful by worldly standards, but cold and withdrawn, rarely speaking, always hiding in her carriage. The pretty maid, Caiwei, was more sociable and would sometimes step out to survey the surroundings.

One noon, under the first summer sun, the two carriages rolled slowly eastward, their tracks winding along a meandering road. Nearly half a month had passed. Kou Wang and Jiang Xianghu sat at either end of the rear carriage, guarding the young mistress’s quarters, while Shen Yu led the way in front, as if probing the road ahead. Should an ambush occur, he would be the first to suffer, and the others would hardly trouble themselves to save him.

Shen Yu cared little, quite content with these arrangements. He often dozed, reclining against the carriage, never giving a thought to his role as mere driver. Even on the jostling, uneven roads, his figure swayed with the carriage in a rhythm that was oddly natural.

Eventually, a shout roused him, and the Mountain-Gazers halted. Shen Yu opened his eyes to find the sky bathed in sunset, the clouds layered like fish scales. They had reached a rare valley among the eastern mountains, with a small stream murmuring past—a place to rest for the night.

Jiang Xianghu leaped from the carriage and swiftly set up two tents. Shen Yu stretched, leapt down as well, and, ignoring the camp preparations, simply lay on the grass by the stream and closed his eyes once more.

Caiwei, peering out from the carriage, frowned slightly, then glanced at the old man. Kou Wang shook his head and said helplessly, “I still can’t see through him. There’s no trace of spiritual energy on him—either he’s an ordinary man, or…” He left the sentence unfinished, but the maid understood well enough: either a mortal, or a cultivator far stronger than the old man himself.

The very thought made Caiwei’s expression incredulous. The notion was absurd—if he were truly an extraordinary cultivator, why would such a prodigy stoop to being their coachman?

“Perhaps I’m overthinking it,” she said.

The old man laughed lightly. “There are many wonders in the world. Perhaps he was simply born with a special affinity for magical beasts.”

Caiwei shook her head. “That’s not what concerns me…”

…

Shen Yu sensed a figure blocking the last rays of sunset. He opened his eyes to see the familiar, haughty face.

“I think you shouldn’t be so lazy,” Caiwei said loftily, looking down on him. “You’re paid to work, not to sleep.”

Shen Yu closed his eyes again and replied calmly, “I’m just a driver.”

“So drivers get to sleep every day?” There was a note of mockery, and perhaps exasperation, in Caiwei’s tone. She had been secretly observing him for days and knew just how indolent he was.

“My route is sound, my driving steady—by any measure, I’m doing my job well,” Shen Yu said.

Caiwei wanted to retort, but realized he wasn’t wrong, and found herself at a loss for words. In the end, she stamped her foot in frustration and turned away, tossing a small pouch to him as she left. Shen Yu opened it to find a handful of silver coins, realizing that the girl had come to pay him.

He watched her retreating figure—tall, slender, and graceful, at odds with her plain face. If only she could shed that air of cold arrogance and make her plain features a little more delicate, she could deceive many more people.

He suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the “young mistress” who hid in the carriage all day, so much effort wasted on a pointless charade. Even Jiang Xianghu, the rough martial artist, must have seen through the ruse by now, let alone anyone else.

In the past, Shen Yu had always stood too high, seeing only the distant vistas, never noticing the eddies and tempests at ground level. In his previous life, he had emerged at the summit from the start. But before leaving the mountain this time, Su Mo had told him: only by experiencing the mundane world, washing away its myriad distractions, could one transcend the heavens and the earth.

Seen in this light, though life here was not as grand as that above the clouds, it had its own peculiar flavor.

Shen Yu tossed the pouch of silver lightly in his hand. The duties of a coachman and a guard were, in his eyes, entirely different. Most importantly, a driver’s responsibility did not include the safety of his passengers—a fact that spared him much trouble.

But with the silver in hand, matters seemed to have changed somewhat.

…

Though the Da Li Dynasty was in its golden age, the world was far from peaceful, especially in the mountainous east where bandits and brigands roamed in droves. Since leaving Liyang City, they had passed through many ranges and encountered their share of petty outlaws.

To Jiang Xianghu and Kou Wang, these rabble were hardly worth a mention. The few desperate enough to challenge them were swiftly dispatched by Jiang Xianghu’s fist, sending the rest fleeing in terror.

Thus, their journey had been smooth. After more than a month of travel, they neared the borders of the East Ancestral Province.

Before them, a majestic mountain range loomed, barring their path.