Chapter 19: Divine Abilities Awaken

Chapter 19: Divine Abilities Awaken

Li Yan’s eyes flew open. He sat up abruptly.

Just moments ago, while asleep, his Divine Olfaction had suddenly sharpened. A flood of scents—earthy, acrid, sweet—poured into his senses, jolting him awake.

This wasn’t the first time.

The night he’d slain the Cold Altar Rampage Soldiers, the Substitute God Statue had extinguished one of his Life Flames, and his sense of smell had briefly heightened then, though not as intensely as now.

He could now distinguish the loamy scent of soil, the crisp fragrance of wheat, the sweat of distant Wheat Reapers, even the venomous musk of scorpions burrowing underground.

But one aroma was stranger than the rest—the cloying sweetness!

The Substitute God Statue trembled at this scent, radiating a desperate yearning.

The statue he possessed was clearly incomplete, its fragmented nature leaving him to grasp at vague sensations for years before understanding its true function. Normally dormant within his dantian, it only activated when transferring injuries. Now, it had stirred on its own.

Could there be a rare treasure nearby capable of repairing the statue?

Excitement tightened Li Yan’s throat.

Losing a Life Flame to the Cold Altar Rampage Soldiers had left him with two remaining, but even one felt precarious. Who wouldn’t crave an extra life? If the statue could be restored, what fears would remain?

He’d come seeking cultivation secrets, but fortune had handed him an unexpected boon.

Yet as he moved toward the courtyard to investigate, the scent vanished.

Simultaneously, torches flared inside the Lu estate, their glow stark against the night. Shouts erupted—a chaotic din.

Trouble?

Li Yan furrowed his brow, hand tightening on his saber hilt.

The commotion was unmistakable. Sha Lifei, roused abruptly, stumbled over with his blade in hand, muttering, “What’s going on? Bandits raiding the kilns?”

Li Yan shook his head. “Not sure.”

By now, others had stirred awake. Dan Laoquan, the veteran swordsman in the Wool Vest delegation, frowned. “Let’s check. We’re guests here—can’t ignore the host’s affairs.”

The swordsmen instructed the Wheat Reapers to stay put before marching toward the Lu estate. Li Yan followed closely.

At the estate gates, they knocked repeatedly before Steward Lu finally emerged with armed guards, his expression impassive. “What’s the matter?”

The question drew blank stares.

The noise had been deafening. Even a fool couldn’t have missed it.

Dan Laoquan narrowed his eyes, bowing formally. “We heard disturbances. Is everything alright?”

Steward Lu’s face remained neutral. “A stray cat wandered in. Nothing serious. Thank you for your concern. We’ll need to rise early for the harvest—rest well.”

“Understood.”

The Lingyou swordmaster nodded curtly, turning away.

The Lus were hiding something, but after decades in the Jianghu, he’d learned to feign ignorance. As long as wages were paid on time, he’d avoid meddling.

The others followed suit, uninterested in prying.

But as they departed, Steward Lu suddenly called out, “Brother Sha, a moment.”

Sha Lifei froze mid-step, blinking. “Huh? What for?”

The others exchanged glances but moved on.

Though mediocre in martial arts, Sha Lifei had survived the Jianghu through sheer audacity—thick skin, quick wit, and a silver tongue. He’d ingratiated himself with Steward Lu during this job, weaving connections wherever he went.

Li Yan lingered, sensing the steward’s summons tied to the earlier anomaly. If he played his cards right, he might slip into the Lu estate unnoticed.

Not for greed—but to identify what had stirred the Substitute God Statue. Knowledge was power.

He waited until the Yin Hour, when wheat harvesters began their labor, before Sha Lifei finally emerged, grinning broadly.

“What happened?” Li Yan intercepted him, voice low.

Sha Lifei hesitated. “Follow me. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Where to?”

“Xianyang City!”

…

“Lord Lu needs a Yinyang Diviner,” Sha Lifei explained once they’d left Ancient Water Village. “The elder madam’s on her deathbed. They want a genuine master to select a burial site and handle funeral arrangements discreetly—no fanfare.”

Li Yan frowned. “A funeral with no fanfare?”

Sha Lifei chuckled. “I’ve got theories. Lord Lu’s roots are in Guanzhong, but he’s got no clan ties. He fled to the capital as a child, built his fortune there. Once he returned, he kept his distance from local elites.”

“The elder madam’s from the capital too. Followed him here, probably died of bitterness—Lord Lu’s a notorious philanderer. She’s been bedridden for years, never sees outsiders.”

“Lord Lu’s all about appearances. He’d hate rumors.”

Li Yan countered, “Still, why hide the funeral? Once dead, what’s there to fear? A grand burial avoids disputes.”

Sha Lifei scratched his bald head. “Why ask? Not our business. But I recommended Master Wang, earned a referral fee—and a chance to introduce you.”

“A chance? I thought you were close.”

“Hey, even friends have ranks,” Sha Lifei laughed nervously. “Now hurry.”

Li Yan shook his head. He’d guessed Sha Lifei’s influence was limited. Gaining Master Wang’s trust would require his own tactics.

But his mind lingered on the Lu estate’s oddities. Could the mysterious treasure be connected?

Sha Lifei had a horse, borrowed another from the Lus.

Li Yan, though no equestrian, kept pace. By dawn, they reached Xianyang City’s outskirts.

This world had its own Qin dynasty, older than any history. Xianyang, the ancient capital, straddled the Wei and Jing Rivers—a bustling nexus of trade, its streets teeming with merchants, scholars, and rogues.

From afar, they spotted ships crowding the Wei River, the towering Qingwei Pavilion near the city walls.

At the gates, vendors and villagers queued, their chatter mingling with braying mules. Dockworkers already unloaded cargo at the wharves.

Approaching the ferry, Sha Lifei halted. “Yan Xiaoge, I need you to handle the city search.”

“You’re not coming?”

Sha Lifei grimaced. “After yesterday’s clash with Meng Haicheng, my face’s too recognizable. Zhou Pan’s spies are everywhere.”

Li Yan scoffed. “Convenient.”

Sha Lifei grinned, unbothered. “You’re sharper than me, but let me warn you—Xianyang’s a den of sects. Avoid that ship.” He pointed to a massive vessel. “Xianyang Canal Brotherhood controls the docks, allied with the Porter Guild and Tai Xing Cartage. Even the rivermen are theirs.”

“Beggars’ dens in the northern pauper’s graveyard—those brats are spies. And the Divine Boxing Society? Zhou Pan’s a thug, but he’s Xianyang’s kingpin. He’s got ties to the magistrate, and the city’s two gang leaders are his apprentices.”

“Zhou Pan’s in Flower Shop Street. Master Wang’s near the East Gate’s City God Temple. Stay alert.”

Though slippery, Sha Lifei’s intel was gold. Li Yan donned a white tunic, smudged ash on his face, and set off with a straw hat.

Sha Lifei vanished into the woods with the horses.

Li Yan scoffed. He’d navigated Jianghu’s underbelly before, and his father’s teachings had armed him well.

But as he neared the Wei River, his expression shifted.

A tidal wave of scents—some familiar, others eerily alien—assaulted his nose.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end