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Chapter 3: The Dragon Was Completely Robbed
That night, the moon hung above the willow branches.
After settling the person in the side hall, Yan Ji’an returned to his residence. After tidying up, he sat cross-legged on the long couch. Though he was exhausted, when he closed his eyes intending to meditate, he found he couldn’t enter a meditative state no matter how hard he tried.
His mind was distracted.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t preoccupied with the person in the side hall who still hadn’t woken up. Instead, what repeatedly came to his mind was the image of Nan Fuguang’s hand, hanging by her side and hidden in her sleeve, when she left Tao Ting earlier that day.
…I should’ve asked her again, he thought.
But on second thought, he dismissed the idea. Nan Fuguang had always been the outspoken type since she was a child, rarely hiding anything from him. If she had concealed an injury today, he should have noticed it.
The drifting clouds shifted, revealing the full moon that had briefly been obscured, it was the fifteenth, and moonlight poured through the window lattice. Only the sound of insects chirping could be heard in the night.
The long lashes of the Immortal Lord quivered slightly before he suddenly opened his eyes.
He sensed someone had taken the key and entered his treasure vault.
Oddly enough, the tension in Yan Ji’an’s shoulders eased a little. He hoped Nan Fuguang would stay a while and pick out some things she liked.
…
And as it turned out, Nan Fuguang never disappointed her master.
Entering the treasure vault under the moonlight at midnight, she didn’t leave until dawn.
By the time Yan Ji’an finally felt tired enough to rest, his thoughts had shifted from “I hope she takes a few more things” to “Did she spend the entire night trying to empty the vault?”
…
The next day, Yan Ji’an got his answer.
At dawn, before the sky fully brightened, a round-faced inner disciple who often followed Nan Fuguang waited outside Tao Ting.
The girl whose name Yan Ji’an couldn’t quite remember, held a thick scroll in her arms. Upon seeing him, she bowed respectfully before flicking open the scroll. One end of the scroll unfurled with a “plop,” rolling all the way to the Immortal Lord’s feet.
Yan Ji’an glanced down.
The scroll was densely packed with a categorized inventory, listing everything from celestial artifacts to divine weapons, from rare herbs to magical implements even food, daily necessities, and clothing.
At a casual glance, Yan Ji’an spotted:
Hmm.
“What is this?” Yan Ji’an asked.
Caught off guard by the question, the girl’s hand trembled, nearly smacking the remaining half of the scroll into his expressionless face.
Wiping sweat from her forehead with her elbow, she finally found her voice: “It’s… the inventory, Your Excellency.”
Unfortunately, no matter how much she tried to sound casual, the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
“The ones remaining,” Yan Ji’an paused, his tone losing its usual smoothness, “or the ones taken?”
The girl nervously clutched the endless list, longer than the coastline of the Unclean Sea and dared not speak.
After a prolonged silence, just as she feared storm clouds would soon gather over Yun Tian Sect, Yan Ji’an unexpectedly let out a calm “That’s fine.”
“…”
The girl’s cold sweat intensified. With growing unease, she squeezed out through clenched teeth, “It’s… not that fine.”
“?”
“Well… Senior Sister,” she faltered, raising the end of the scroll for emphasis, “threw everything into the Pure Pool beneath Azure Cloud Cliff.”
The Pure Pool was a mystical spring connected to the sect’s largest spiritual vein. To encourage disciples to improve, elders would often place self-forged celestial artifacts and rare elixirs inside.
When inner disciples excelled or made great contributions, they earned the right to fish for treasures, akin to mortals drawing lottery cards. One might pull out a divine weapon, or a rusty dagger incapable of cutting a watermelon.
Usually, people mentioned the Pure Pool in jest, a lighthearted reward for merit.
…And today, Nan Fuguang had dumped an entire vault’s worth of artifacts into it, each one capable of shaking the Three Realms.
The girl braced herself and continued, “Senior Sister said they’re for the next inner disciple martial competition.”
“…”
“The good news is, ever since this morning, registration enthusiasm has reached unprecedented heights.”
“…”
“And…”
“There’s more?”
The girl hesitated before touching the hilt of the utterly ordinary sword at her waist. “After emptying the vault, Senior Sister went to the Artifact Pavilion and picked up a standard-issue Qingguang Sword.”
Yan Ji’an fell silent.
Nan Fuguang hadn’t just discarded treasures, she had left a pointed remark behind:
“No matter how fine the vault’s swords are, none compare to the Yaoguang Sword you gave me. If you shatter it for someone else, it loses all meaning and becomes mere scrap metal. Why would I care for junk?”*
Even the ever-calm Immortal Lord was momentarily speechless.
…
By midday, at the entrance to the Bone-Identifying Pavilion, the scene was bustling.
“Senior Sister Fuguang!”
“What ‘Senior Sister’? After today’s donation to the Pure Pool, she’s our benefactor, our Dad!”
“Thank you, Senior Sister! You’re the best for thinking of us juniors!”
From the corner of her eye, the girl noticed that Yan Ji’an still wearing the same robes from that morning, was also observing them. His gaze lingered on the Qingguang Sword in Nan Fuguang’s hand.
The girl couldn’t help but think: What’s so fascinating about a standard-issue sword? Hasn’t the Immortal Lord seen junk before?
Unaware of the scrutiny, Nan Fuguang gracefully accepted the disciples’ praise, until her attention sharpened on a figure beside Yan Ji’an.
A beautiful young woman in an inner disciple robe stood cautiously by his side.
Even in plain attire, her delicate, ethereal beauty was undeniable.
It was the woman Yan Ji’an had brought back under “mysterious circumstances” and she had woken up sooner than anyone expected.
Nan Fuguang narrowed her eyes.
Her smile faded.