Han Juncheng had a flat face and wore black-rimmed glasses. He sat beneath the roof and stared silently at the fortune teller.

The fortune teller gave a humble smile. “Mr. Han, I have already explained the situation. Do you think tonight is a good time for us to make a move?”

Han Juncheng let out a cold laugh. “When my father was still the Border Controller, I wouldn’t have spared someone like you a second glance.”

The fortune teller bobbed his head over and over. “An honor, Young Master Han. Truly. You have come out of respect for our master.”

Han Juncheng gave a short, sharp snort. “Master? Who is your master? He Jiaqing? You clearly don’t know who my father was. Back then, someone like He Jiaqing, the son of a businessman, wouldn’t even get a chance to meet me in person.”

The fortune teller kept his smile.

Han Juncheng was arrogant, that much was obvious. However, there was nothing aloof about him.

“You are making a move tonight,” Han Juncheng said, expressing his dissatisfaction. “And you are only telling me now?”

“It’s an emergency,” the fortune teller replied carefully. “Originally, our master planned to wait for a better…”

“Stop rambling… What’s the point of saying all that?” Han Juncheng interrupted impatiently. “Go prepare everything that needs to be prepared. We will make a move at midnight tonight. I really hate that place, Iron Gate Fort. A bunch of poor wretches who can’t scrape together a few coins, never seen the world, and don’t even understand basic manners. Once this is over, tell He Jiaqing to find a chance to wipe them out. Just looking at them makes me sick.”

As a Homebound Cultivator, Han Juncheng had visited Iron Gate Fort once. Back then, he claimed to be only level three when the truth was that he had already reached level six.

For a while, he kept it hidden. But less than half a month later, something trivial set him off. Han Juncheng beat up an old woman selling vegetables.

He didn’t hold back. By the time he was done, the old woman lay on the ground, badly injured.

The moment Zhou Juan saw the abilities Han Juncheng used, he knew the man had already passed level five. That very night, he kicked Han Juncheng out of Iron Gate Fort.

Han Juncheng had never forgotten it. To this day, he still held a deep grudge and had long wanted to wipe Iron Gate Fort off the map.

Once the time was set, the fortune teller went off to make preparations, leaving Han Juncheng alone to discuss matters with his dwelling spirit.

Han Juncheng already had one dwelling spirit, yet he still wanted to acknowledge another one tonight. Was that even possible? It was possible. As long as the dwelling spirit agreed, it could be done.

Han Juncheng’s dwelling spirit was a woman. It was unclear what she saw in him, but she obeyed his every word. Whatever Han Juncheng said, she would naturally agree to it.

“Juncheng, you must be careful,” she said softly. “There are quite a few powerful ones in Iron Gate Fort.”

By “powerful ones,” she meant other dwelling spirits.

Han Juncheng let out a cold laugh. “So what if there are powerful ones? Dwelling spirits are nothing more than servants to Homebound Cultivators.”

The dwelling spirit said nothing more.

Han Juncheng sat beneath the roof, his expression cold as he looked up at the night sky.

***

The fortune teller entered Iron Gate Fort.

Surprisingly, his line of work was very popular in Iron Gate Fort. Homebound Cultivators were superstitious and were especially obsessed with fortune-telling, character divination, and palm reading.

He made a round through the fort and read fortunes for more than thirty households in a single day.

Everyone who sought his readings said he was accurate. After returning home, fully satisfied, they all began to feel drowsy.

When they felt sleepy, they simply lay down and slept. In this regard, Homebound Cultivators were rather carefree. However, this sleep was unusually deep. Even when they slept until late into the night, none of them wanted to wake up.

This was the doing of a level-seven Disease Cultivator, and the fortune teller was none other than Wan Jinxian. Everyone whose fortune he had read was struck by a sudden drowsiness. It would only happen once, and they would recover when they wake up the next morning.

Wan Jinxian could have inflicted far more severe illnesses. He could even have brought a plague upon Iron Gate Fort. However, carrying it out without anyone noticing would not have been easy.

His cultivation was high and his abilities were powerful, but Homebound Cultivators were not so easy to kill. As long as they returned to their homes, they could recover quickly. If one fell ill, the others would immediately raise their guard.

Wan Jinxian was a cautious man and would not act rashly at a critical moment. To Homebound Cultivators, sleep was not considered an illness. Even if they slept more than usual, they would not take it seriously and might even think they had gained something from it.

When it was night time, Iron Gate Fort closed its gates, and the entire place fell silent.

Using an enchanted artifact, Wan Jinxian brought Han Juncheng from outside straight into the fort. Then, following the route he had already mapped out, he led the way toward the Fort Lord’s residence.

They passed one home after another, but not a single person noticed them. This was because every Homebound Cultivator along that path was sound asleep.

The residence was a restricted area. Under Li Banfeng’s orders, no one was allowed within one hundred meters of it, and two Homebound Cultivators had been assigned to guard it.

From afar, Wan Jinxian’s gaze settled on them. Then he opened his mouth and let out a slow yawn.

The guards saw nothing, but the yawn carried a virus, and it drifted silently toward them.

Before long, the two guards began to yawn, one after the other. Drowsiness crept over them.

Homebound Cultivators were known for their discipline. They were not supposed to grow sleepy while on duty.

They tried to resist. Their eyes watered. Their noses began to run. When drool started to slip from the corners of their mouths, their bodies finally gave in.

One after another, they collapsed by the roadside and fell asleep.

Wan Jinxian led Han Juncheng into the residence and pointed toward the auxiliary building to the east.

“Mr. Han, the dwelling spirit we are looking for is inside that building. Be extremely careful once you go in. I will wait here.”

Han Juncheng did not respond. Speaking to someone of such low standing made him uncomfortable. He just needed to confirm that the dwelling spirit’s name was Zhao Xiaowan.

The moment he stepped into the auxiliary building, a chilling aura rushed toward him.

Han Juncheng caught the scent of the ghost in the air. Without pausing to study the layout or condition of the residence, he followed that scent straight up to the second floor.

Wan Jinxian frowned slightly, thinking that Han Juncheng’s way of doing things was somewhat reckless.

He Jiaqing had said the same before. Han Juncheng’s cultivation was high, but he was not experienced enough.

Wan Jinxian believed that a level-six Homebound Cultivator should have gone through some real trials.

Han Juncheng had dealt with some things. His father’s arrest had dealt him a heavy blow. However, that had nothing to do with combat.

He had reached his current level of cultivation through his dwelling spirit. It had been sheer luck to find one so completely devoted to him. Now, however, that same dwelling spirit could no longer help him reach a higher level of cultivation.

This was the real reason Han Juncheng had taken this task. He wanted a new dwelling spirit.

He had heard Zhao Xiaowan’s name long ago. A legendary female general. In his eyes, she was just barely worthy of him.

As for the one he already had, he had not decided on what to do with her. He might keep her as a servant or he could use her as bait and offer her up to Zhao Xiaowan

Han Juncheng liked the second option more. In his view, Zhao Xiaowan deserved a “gift” like that.

For a dwelling spirit of such strength and status, giving a gift would surely win her over, and afterward, he could make her do anything.

The auxiliary building was quite large. On the second floor alone, there were seven rooms.

Han Juncheng walked slowly along the corridor, stopping at each door as he passed. He went from one end to the other, then turned and walked back again, as though making sure of something.

At last, he stopped in front of the final door. He reached out and gently pushed it open.

The room inside was almost bare. There were no tables or chairs, no decorations at all. Only a weapon rack stood quietly in the center.

And on that rack rested a single spear.

The spear was about four meters long, with a blade measuring roughly twenty-six centimeters. It looked exactly like the descriptions in the stories.

The only difference was that this spear had no red tassel.

Could a spear without a red tassel really belong to Zhao Xiaowan?

For a brief moment, doubt crossed his mind.

Is this wrong one? Han Juncheng thought. No. That could not be.

Han Juncheng sensed the overwhelmingly powerful aura emanating from the spear. It was definitely the aura of the Flying General!

Han Juncheng stood before the spear and called out, “Zhao Xiaowan!”

His voice settled into the quiet room and faded. He did not move. He simply stood there and waited.

A minute passed, then another stretch of silence. The spear remained as it was, resting quietly on the rack, showing no sign of resistance.

For a Homebound Cultivator, this meant only one thing.

When a dwelling spirit’s name was called face to face, and it showed no resistance, it meant acceptance. The spirit had acknowledged its master. This was a process known as a dwelling spirit acknowledging a master.

Seeing that the dwelling spirit did not resist, Han Juncheng didn’t feel very surprised.

In his view, considering his cultivation level and status, it was impossible for Zhao Xiaowan to reject him.

He reached out and took the spear from the rack, a relaxed smile spreading across his face.

The moment his hand closed around it, Han Juncheng felt something settle within him. It was as if his fate had finally begun to return to the path it was meant to follow.

He had always believed the heavens had treated him unfairly. He should have had everything. So why had it all been taken from him?

Once he took the spear and stepped out of the auxiliary building, the first person he would kill would be that Disease Cultivator.

He loathed Wan Jinxian. A mere servant should not make that kind of expression! The kind of expression that seemed to convey that he knew everything!

After killing that Disease Cultivator, he would kill the Fort Lord here. Han Juncheng believed he could then naturally take over Iron Gate Fort.

Starting with Iron Gate Fort, he would gather wealth, then return to Greenwater City.

In Greenwater City, he would trample the great families beneath his feet, and from there, make his way back to the Outer Provinces.

Once he returned, he would kill He Jiaqing. Han Juncheng had long since run out of patience with He Jiaqing’s constant criticism and orders over the years.

When that time came, everyone who had looked down on him and everyone who had called him guilty, would have to die.

Han Juncheng would make all those people who had offended him kneel and beg. He would make them repent for everything they had done. He would make them…

As his thoughts raced, Han Juncheng suddenly realized something was wrong.

His hand had not touched the spear. The reason was because his hand had already fallen to the ground.

The spear did not move. It rested on the rack just as before. At least, that was what Han Juncheng saw. Yet his hand was gone.

Severed cleanly at the wrist, as though a blade had passed through it without a sound.

A single drop of blood slid slowly down the tip of the spear.

Han Juncheng stared. The spear had not moved. He was certain of it.

Then… was she simply too fast? Did she not acknowledge me as her master? I called her name, so why didn’t she acknowledge me as her master?

It was only then that Han Juncheng felt the pain. It struck his wrist like fire, sudden and fierce. He grabbed at his arm and tried to run, but he stumbled and crashed to the ground.

His left leg, from the knee down, remained on the ground, and more blood now stained the spear.

Han Juncheng let out a wailing scream. The spear trembled slightly.

As he cried out on the ground, he seemed to catch a fleeting afterimage.

In the next instant, his right leg was gone as well, severed cleanly from the thigh down.

The pain nearly made him black out. Of his entire body, only his left hand remained intact.

A woman’s voice sounded by his ear.

“Crawl.”

Her voice was gentle, yet carried an authoritative presence that none could resist.

Using his one remaining hand, Han Juncheng dragged himself forward. He pulled himself out of the room, across the corridor, and down the stairs.

Just as he was about to reach the doorway, the spear shot out and pierced through his shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

This was called a public display, a method often used on the battlefield to intimidate the enemy.

Han Juncheng was well suited for such a display, because his cries were loud enough.

“Save me… save me…” His voice broke as his vision blurred. When he looked at Wan Jinxian by the doorway, he seemed to see his own father.

“Dad… save me… it hurts… save me… Go find my dwelling spirit, Dad. She can save me… Dad, pull this spear out. Dad, it really hurts…”

“Kiddo, you have mistaken me for someone else,” Wan Jinxian said calmly. “In your next life, don’t be so reckless.”

He turned and walked away. If he stayed any longer, he might not be able to leave at all.

Author’s Note:

PS: Han Juncheng was pinned right at the doorway, and the sight of it gave Banfeng a real fright. The real problem was that the dwelling spirit is both deaf and blind. She can’t hear at all. Can Banfeng come up with a way to deal with it?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep