5: Chapter 3 This Hatred is Hard to Repay!_1 5: Chapter 3 This Hatred is Hard to Repay!_1 Outside of Huanzhen Temple, in front of a new grave, Jiang Wang opened his eyes.

The small silver crescent fell into the palm of his right hand, transforming into a silver crescent mark that branded itself upon it, then vanished from sight.

Yet Jiang Wang could still sense its presence clearly; it had no power of its own, but would reappear whenever Jiang Wang willed it, connecting to the Taiyin Star and transporting his spiritual sense into the mysterious and unpredictable Taixu Illusion Realm.

He hadn’t explored the Taixu Illusion Realm for long, as the wilderness he was in wasn’t a place where one might explore at ease.

Not to mention that after the aftermath of a battle between formidable cultivators dissipated, it was uncertain whether cultivators from Fenglin City might come to investigate.

For Jiang Wang himself, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

If he hadn’t misremembered the time, the selection of inner court students at Fenglin Daoist Academy would take place in three days.

If he missed this opportunity, it would be even harder to find another chance—a chance for revenge.

Because only the students of the inner court are truly recognized by Zhuang Country as Daoist Academy disciples, and Daoist disciples are not to be insulted, let alone harmed!

After casting one last look at the dilapidated Taoist temple where he had lingered for days in his sickly condition, Jiang Wang stepped into the moonlight and strode into the distance.

Before the broken temple gate grew thick weeds, a gust of wind blew by, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the old plaque that had lain on the ground for years.

The characters on it were indistinct, but the words “Huanzhen” could vaguely be made out.

The moon shone down on the new grave beside the broken temple, the wind rustled through the leaves.

It was as if someone sighed.

…

Fenglin City was actually not small; for many people who had lived there for generations, it was even their entire world.

Aside from the City Lord who represented Zhuang Country’s will, the Zhang, Fang, and Wang families were the masters of this land.

Under the deep night, the back door of Yicui Tower was pushed open.

Amidst the giggling of a plump girl, a man wearing a long shirt with slits on both sides staggered out, the strong smell of alcohol on him only seeming to lend him an air of smug satisfaction.

His name was Fang DeCai.

The “Fang” surname was not easy to come by; from his grandfather’s generation, it had been bestowed upon his family after serving three generations of the Fang family.

It was also because he was trusted by the Fangs that his pockets were so well-lined, affording him the luxury of visiting Yicui Tower, such a den of debauchery, every month.

After pinching his favourite girl fiercely once more, he laughed heartily and left.

The voluptuous girl looked after him annoyedly, cooing a few dissatisfied remarks.

Only when his figure had receded into the distance of the alley did she spit out, “A cur that relies on others’ power,” and slammed the little door shut with force.

Thus, she failed to notice a man in ragged clothing, who had already come close to Fang DeCai from behind.

Fang DeCai, having some martial skill, felt something was off and suddenly turned, throwing a punch—but his opponent casually slapped away his fist.

Immediately following, his throat was seized, and he was lifted into the air, then forcefully pinned against the wall.

More terrifying than the rapidly swelling pain on his face and the increasingly difficult breathing was the face before him.

Gentle, calm…

Jiang Wang’s face.

“Jiang…

Jiang…” Fang DeCai gasped in horror and struggled with his constricted throat.

“Who put you up to this?

The Fang family, or Fang Pengju?

Who else is involved?

What poison was used in the wine?

How did you make contact with the bandits of West Mountain?”

Jiang Wang asked these questions slowly and just before Fang DeCai passed out from suffocation, he casually released his grip, “Now, take your time and tell me everything.”

He looked up at the moon, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

The evening breeze gently pushed the clouds along, briefly dimming the moonlight.

The hushed conversation in the alley sounded as if whispered by malevolent spirits.

That night, while the moon hung high and the winds blew, those not yet dead had returned to the city.

…

As the daylight brightened, Jiang Wang stood at the entrance of Fenglin City Daoist Academy.

In Zhuang Country, the Taoist Sect was the state religion, and naturally, the most powerful transcendental forces stemmed from it, as evident by the Daoist Academies spread across all cities in the three provinces of the country.

The Daoist Academy was not only the preferred place of cultivation for the young people of Zhuang Country, but also a necessary part of the resume for officials of all levels to command respect.

Therefore, in the entirety of Fenglin City, the most prestigious places might not be the City Lord’s Mansion or the estates of the three major families, but Fenglin City Daoist Academy.

The Taoist Sect of Zhuang Country was affiliated with the Jade Capital Mountain lineage, holding rituals in the highest regard.

As a result, the entire Daoist Academy was also built lavishly.

Not to mention other things, just the pair of jade lions squatted at both sides of the main gate exuded a sense of majesty and nobility.

Jiang Wang’s clothes were still ragged, and if one sniffed closely, there was even a sour stench.

He had simply washed his face and carelessly tied his disheveled hair behind his head.

Standing before the wide-open gates of the Daoist Academy, he stood tall and proud, as unbending as a pine tree.

The disciple guarding the entry rubbed his eyes again and again before he dared to believe what he saw and cried out, “Jiang…

Brother Jiang!?”

Jiang Wang nodded in acknowledgment, “Greetings, Brother Wu.”

As the most willing to take risks among the external disciples of Fenglin City Daoist Academy, he had been involved in countless missions for the Academy, and any external disciple who had been in the Academy for more than a year hardly didn’t know him.

Brother Wu turned and ran into the Daoist Academy, shouting excitedly, “Brother Jiang Wang has returned!

Brother Jiang Wang has returned!”

In no time, numerous external disciples swarmed to the gate, crowding it completely, all calling out to him in a cacophony of voices, which showed the esteem Jiang Wang held among the external disciples.

Among the dozens of external disciples, a few stood out conspicuously.

Even amid the crush, the crowd subconsciously made way for them.

“You bastard Jiang!

Where have you been hiding these days?

I damn well thought you were dead!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep