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墨書 Inktalez
Xiao Zan ignored Niu Dali's probing words and instead wanted to see what he was up to. He directly bypassed him and knocked on the inn's door. The people inside had been on high alert these days; as soon as the first knock sounded, the candlelight upstairs flickered to life in several rooms.
Niu Xianshi personally came to open the door.
Being called out by Xiao Zan, Niu Dali's expression darkened, but he said nothing. When the door opened, he shoved past Xiao Zan and stepped inside first.
Sun Rongniang opened the door and, upon seeing the visitors, still bore a hint of drowsiness on her face, which quickly turned to panic. "Niu Xianshi, and this official," she stammered. "What brings you both here so late at night? My establishment has always operated within the rules and has never strayed from them."
Seeing Niu Xianshi, Sun Rongniang guessed his intentions. Although she knew it was futile, she instinctively wanted to protect Sang Qingxiao and the others. As expected, she was rebuked by Niu Xianshi. With a silent sigh, she turned to lead them in, only to find Qi Xiaomian had already appeared silently in the lobby.
Qi Xiaomian's gaze lingered on Xiao Zan for a moment before shifting to Niu Dali. "Did the Immortal send you?"
Niu Dali's dismissive attitude infuriated Niu Xianshi. "How dare you toy with me!"
"And what if I do? I still remember how you looked when you were paralyzed with fear," Qi Xiaomian mocked, deliberately showcasing a technique from the book given by the Immortal. Just that small display was enough to instill fear in Niu Dali—not only because of Qi Xiaomian's strength but also due to the oppressive aura reminiscent of the Immortal.
Having grown accustomed to fear, Niu Dali leaned against the counter for support, struggling to stand upright. The earlier bravado had vanished completely; he stammered for a long time without making any coherent statement.
Qi Xiaomian continued, "The Immortal has passed down teachings to me and wishes to take me as a disciple. My status is far above yours as a mere servant—oh wait, what status do you even have? Who allowed you to be so insolent before me?"
"However," Qi Xiaomian added after a pause, "since you just learned of this matter, I won’t pursue it further this time. But if it happens again, I will kill you. There are plenty of people who can be servants; I doubt the Immortal is reliant on you alone."
After scolding him, Qi Xiaomian asked, "Why are you so afraid of this place? You came here at night knowing I'm still alive; it must be because you've received orders from the Immortal. Speak quickly and then get lost."
Niu Dali finally relented. "The Immortal... The Immortal wants you to participate in the Heavenly Sacrifice ceremony together."
With that brief statement, Niu Dali turned and bolted out the door. It took him a while before his cold sweat dried up; he felt somewhat more awake now as his fear dissipated and resentment surged within him.
Why! After all these years of hard work and complaints, he was still just a servant while that pretty boy had become a disciple in just a few days!
How unfair was the Immortal!
He recalled how recently Baekje Sect and Ding Shoudao had openly opposed him. Even when he mentioned the Immortal’s name, they remained unafraid, their expressions tinged with smugness.
That expression was all too familiar—it resembled those in court who secretly colluded and reveled in his misfortune.
What more was there to understand about this collusion?
He felt like the one who had been abandoned.
Yet even as a servant, he was still an Immortal's servant; many were vying for that position. Niu Dali did not want to give up; he could not provoke the Immortal or his favored disciple. But surely those who competed with him could be provoked.
Thus began Niu Dali's battle for self-preservation, casting aside even thoughts of revenge against those who had wronged him.
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