Chapter 31: The Qin Immortal Clan

“Brother Yesheng, look! This is the clay figurine Grandfather gave me.”

One of the little girls took out a clay doll and handed it to Song Yan.

From the earlier laughter and chatter, Song Yan had learned her name was Xie Chan, granddaughter of Xie Xing.

Xie Chuan picked up the conversation, speaking of the elderly swordsman in front, his eyes full of admiration: “Grandpa Xie Xing is a swordsman—he’s incredible.”

For some reason, when Xie Chan showed Song Yan the clay figurine, Xie Xing in the front turned and glanced back.

Inside the carriage, men and women laughed and played, a stark contrast to the tense vigilance of Xie Xing outside.

“This clay figurine is so exquisite.”

Song Yan carefully received it, turning it over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship.

In his sleeve, Xiao He grew interested, peeking out from the gap near Song Yan’s wrist to look at the clay doll.

She loved these little handmade trinkets.

The two girls in the carriage whispered as they watched Song Yan’s earnest expression: “That scholar is so handsome.”

Boys and girls, hearts just beginning to stir, yet innocent and unaware; all their whispers reached Song Yan and Xiao He.

“…”

Xiao He followed the sleeve’s edge and glanced at the little girl.

“She has good taste. Our Yan Yan in Shiliang is famed as a beauty for miles around!”

“What’s that sound?”

Song Yan tapped the little snake’s head through his sleeve, signaling her to hush.

He then asked aloud, “Senior, did you make this clay figurine? Such skillful craftsmanship…”

“Haha, old man like me—a first-rank martial artist, rough and clumsy—how could I have such deft hands?”

Xie Xing laughed, “This was passed down from our ancestors.”

Perhaps it was the long journey, and with Song Yan behaving normally, soon to arrive at the border of Fufeng City, Xie Xing’s vigilance toward him had eased considerably.

“The Xie family business isn’t large; we’ve made clay figurines for generations.”

“My branch is an exception; in every generation, someone turns out to be a reckless martial artist.”

“My grandfather was a renowned swordsman in the martial world. This clay figurine was crafted by him.”

“Even now, rumors circulate in Southern Chu’s martial circles, claiming this clay doll holds a peerless sword technique. But I’ve searched my whole life and found nothing special.”

As Xie Xing spoke, Song Yan sensed a subtle shift in tone.

Though the words sounded candid, the veteran’s manner felt probing.

“You look like a scholar, perceptive and clever. Did you notice anything unusual?”

“Well…”

Even if there were some profound meaning, it would be impossible to discern in such a short time inside the carriage.

Song Yan shook his head. “I’m dull-witted and see nothing.”

He truly saw nothing, and returned the clay figurine to Xie Chan.

Even if it contained some so-called “peerless sword art” from the martial world, it would be useless to him as a cultivator.

“Heh…”

Xie Xing turned away and said no more.

With laughter and conversation, they soon neared the border of Fufeng City.

The carriage rolled into a dense forest, and Song Yan, who had been resting with eyes closed, suddenly opened them.

Someone nearby seemed to be lying in ambush…

Bandits?

So close to Fufeng City, there shouldn’t be such bold criminals.

His cultivation had fallen, but his spiritual sense remained unaffected; on the contrary, after surviving a life-and-death battle in the secret realm, it had grown slightly stronger.

Enemy?

Judging from Xie Xing’s earlier wary demeanor, it was not impossible.

Having benefited from the Xie family’s kindness, Song Yan was about to speak a warning.

“Hmm?”

Xie Xing’s brow furrowed as sounds began to stir around them.

“This is bad!”

“Chuan, stay in the carriage—don’t run about!”

Whoosh—

The convoy halted.

Xie Xing leaped down, drew his sword, and called out loudly, “Who lurks here, skulking in the shadows?”

From the dense woods emerged several figures clad in black.

“Forgive me, elder…”

“We bear no grudge against you.”

The leader, also masked in black, spoke: “But someone has paid a hefty price for the life of your young master!”

This was…

A mundane conflict, a feud of the martial world.

It seemed even the ordinary martial world was not peaceful.

“Master Xie Chuan is born with a spiritual root, able to enter the Daoist sects—how envious we are…”

Xie Xing’s gaze sharpened.

On this journey, the Xie family claimed their children were fortunate to study at Fufeng City’s Chaolu Academy.

For secrecy, they hired no escorts from security companies or martial circles, apart from himself.

Now that news had leaked, among Xie clan members…

There must be a traitor!

And the elders likely already knew, or else why summon him, a wandering swordsman, back to the clan for this journey?

“Spiritual root?”

The children inside the carriage hardly dared to breathe. Song Yan glanced at Xie Chuan, who shrank into the corner in fear.

He was terrified Song Yan might be allied with those outside attacking the convoy.

“Did the Qin family send you?”

Xie Xing’s eyes swept over the opposing group, calculating his strategy.

“That… I’m afraid I can’t say.”

Though not answered directly, Xie Xing surmised with near certainty: it was the Southern Chu Qin family, and his heart burned with anger.

“The Southern Chu Qin clan is vast and powerful. They have produced several cultivators, their influence spread throughout Southern Chu.”

“Why must they exterminate a small clan like the Xie family?”

Southern Chu Qin clan?

Song Yan pondered.

Another of the four great families; it was said that in the inner sect of Dongyuan Sect, a gifted woman named Qin Ying hailed from the Southern Chu Qin clan.

Northern Yan, Southern Qin.

The Yan clan of Northern Chu and the Qin clan of Southern Chu, both with many cultivators—worthy of the title ‘immortal clan.’

And now, it seemed the Qin clan was quite ambitious.

The leader in black waved his hand, no longer hiding anything, since all before him were doomed.

“Heh, in all of Southern Chu, only the Qin clan has risen as a cultivator family. The reasons, an old hand like you surely understands at a glance.”

“Elder Xie, there’s no need to struggle. Below the immortals, we’re all ants. Accept your fate.”

Buzz—

Before the words finished, Xie Xing struck first, his sword thrusting out.

Alone, he managed to fight the group of black-clad men to a standstill.

Song Yan peered through the carriage curtain and saw Xie Xing’s swordplay was purely lethal, without a single flourish—fluid and refined.

Yet…

From a cultivator’s perspective, his speed was far too slow.

“Sixteen, kill everyone in the carriage—quickly.”

The leader barked orders, his blade never slackening.

Xie Xing’s heart tightened. Wanting to protect the children in the carriage, the battle quickly turned against him.

Song Yan could not stand by and watch the Xie family slaughtered. He was about to summon the little snake, but reconsidered and decided to act himself.

Now at the first layer of Qi Refinement, Xiao He’s strength was comparable to a mid-stage Qi cultivator; she was his true trump card.

Clang!

Outnumbered and aged, Xie Xing could not hold out.

A moment’s misstep, and the leader’s blade wind wounded his fingers, sending his sword flying.

The black-blade leader reacted quickly, slashing fiercely at Xie Xing’s face.

The sword fell, spinning in midair.

He had drifted all his life, always expecting this day—but without his protection, the five Xie children would surely perish.

Xie Xing’s heart was bleak, powerless to save them.

“Buzz—”

Suddenly, the sword flew up, deflecting the leader’s deadly strike.

“Who?!”

Amidst the astonished gazes of all the martial artists, the flying sword shot toward the black-clad man near the carriage.

Shick.

“Ah—”

A scream rang out as the sword pinned the man’s hand to the ground.

“…”

Xie Xing’s eyes widened in disbelief.

It wasn’t just him; even the black-clad men murmured. In the silent scene, everyone heard clearly:

“Immortal…”

Inside the carriage, Song Yan lowered his gaze.

He had not taken any lives—after all, the so-called Qin and Xie clans, the origins of their feud, were told from just one side.

Without seeing the full picture, Song Yan did not wish to get involved—he only wanted to return peacefully to his mountain.

Besides, these were disputes among mortals; though cultivator factions lurked behind the scenes, he had no reason to interfere.

He intervened only to repay the favor of sharing the journey.

A clear voice, by unknown means, echoed through the bamboo forest.

“Senior Xie Xing is an old acquaintance. If you have any grievances…”

“Settle them another day.”