The Blue-Clothed Man

Chapter 106: The Blue-Clothed Man

On South Street, the busiest avenue in the southern district of Jiayuan City, stood a sprawling mansion covering several acres. Above its pitch-black gate hung a plaque bearing two characters: “Mo Manor.” Eight burly men in fitted attire stood on either side of the gate, chests out, eyes fixed straight ahead—a disciplined, formidable sight that discouraged casual approach.

Across the street, not far from the Mo Manor, rose a three-story establishment called the Fragrant Family Restaurant. It ranked among the finest eateries in all of Jiayuan City, especially famed for its signature wine, “Hundred Mile Fragrance,” a brew so renowned it drew merchants and travelers from afar.

It was now the noon meal hour, and the restaurant was packed to capacity. Every table from the first to the third floor was occupied, filled with diners enjoying their lunch.

Pedestrians passing by on the street outside could smell the rich aroma of food and wine wafting from the building—a scent that made one’s mouth water and stomach growl.

A young man sat at a table by the window on the second floor. Before him were several plates of appealing meat and vegetable dishes, along with a bottle of the famous Hundred Mile Fragrance clear wine. Standing behind him was a towering giant whose mere presence inspired fear. This was Han Li, who had come out to gather information.

Han Li was now looking down from the window at something below, idly spinning a small wine cup filled to the brim. He had barely touched the food on the table, wearing a distracted, lazy expression.

He cast a sidelong glance at the distant Mo Manor, then withdrew his gaze to scan the street before him. His face betrayed no change in expression. He tilted his head back, downed the wine in one gulp, and continued staring blankly out the window.

Through some investigation, Han Li had learned that Doctor Mo’s two biological daughters and his adopted daughter were all said to be as lovely as jade—delicate, enchanting beauties. They were renowned as the three great belles of Jiayuan City, earning them the nickname “The Three Jewels of the Mo Manor.”

Their beauty had attracted countless suitors—rich young masters, gallant heroes, and talented youths—all vying for their favor.

Among them, Mo Yuzhu was the most stunning, drawing the greatest number of admirers. Her recent betrothal had caused an enormous uproar, leaving most of her pursuers heartbroken. Some who were skilled in martial arts had challenged the young Mr. Wu to duels. In the end, this Wu Jianming had defeated sixteen love rivals in a row, establishing a reputation for peerless martial skill. This only brought him and Mo Yuzhu even closer, their affection growing like glue and lacquer.

As Han Li pondered this, the whole affair struck him as somewhat absurd. Others might not know what kind of person this Young Master Wu truly was, but Han Li was all too clear.

That Wu Jianming was almost certainly a pawn sent by Doctor Mo’s enemies. It seemed that Doctor Mo’s prolonged absence over the years had begun to arouse suspicion among his adversaries. This young master Wu’s arrival was likely a probing move. How he had managed to gain the trust of the Mo household, Han Li could not yet guess. Surely an ordinary token or letter would not have been enough to convince Doctor Mo’s wives so easily.

Han Li tapped his fingers lightly on the table, pushing through the questions in his mind.

“This way, young master, if you please! Your dishes will be up shortly,” a waiter in a white short jacket announced as he led a blue-clothed man in his late twenties up to the second floor. He seated the man at an empty table next to Han Li’s, then hurried off to attend to other guests.

This blue-clothed man had regular features, thick eyebrows, and large eyes, with a certain heroic air about his brow and expression.

After sitting down, he scanned his surroundings, and his gaze happened to meet Han Li’s.

Han Li sensed an unfathomable depth in the other’s eyes—a strange, pulling force that seemed to want to draw him in. Startled, Han Li quickly averted his head, his complexion shifting slightly.

The other man also appeared momentarily surprised. He gave Han Li a cold look, then turned away, paying him no further attention.

Han Li’s face had gone somewhat pale. That single glance had made him feel as if he had been completely seen through from the inside out, a deeply unsettling sensation.

It was the first time Han Li had ever experienced such a feeling of being laid bare before someone’s eyes.

The blue-clothed man, once his wine and dishes had been fully served, began to eat and drink heartily, chewing with obvious relish, as if completely oblivious to the world around him.

Han Li, by contrast, now found himself unable to sit still. A growing unease gnawed at him.

Although he had not used his Celestial Eye Technique to examine the other, the powerful spiritual energy radiating faintly from the blue-clothed man was already enough to intimidate him thoroughly. He understood clearly that this man was a cultivator with far deeper magical power than his own.

Han Li had only ever met two cultivators before this: Yu Zitong and the Brilliant Gold Elder. One had been a primordial soul stripped of all physical power, the other had possessed pathetically weak magic—so weak that Han Li had eliminated him at their first meeting. Thus, Han Li’s understanding of cultivators remained shallow. They were still shrouded in mystery to him, and he had no idea how to handle a situation where he was so clearly outmatched.

“This blue-clothed man isn’t going to just casually kill me the way I killed the Brilliant Gold Elder, is he?” Han Li thought, his mind racing toward the worst possible outcomes.

To Han Li’s great relief, the blue-clothed man finished his meal without incident. He took out a handkerchief, wiped the corner of his mouth, tossed down a silver ingot, and drifted away. From beginning to end, he did not so much as glance back in Han Li’s direction, as if he had already forgotten Han Li completely.

It was only after the man had fully left the restaurant that Han Li let out a long breath and slumped into his chair. Though the blue-clothed man’s meal had been brief, Han Li felt as if he had endured an entire day. The mental pressure that man had exerted was overwhelming—like emerging from a life-or-death battle.

At that moment, the blue-clothed man appeared at the mouth of an alley at the other end of the street, where a man in his thirties, dressed in a yellow shirt, was waiting.

“Fourth Brother, why are you late? We still need to meet up with the eldest brother and the others!” the man in yellow said with some displeasure.

“Heh! Second Brother, don’t be angry! I just hadn’t eaten mortal food in a few years, so I decided to have another taste,” the blue-clothed man replied with a grin.

“Always with that craving! How many times have I told you—we who cultivate the Dao should keep our hearts pure and our desires few, and avoid such gluttonous indulgence. But you never listen. That meal alone has set your heart-mind back by no small measure,” the yellow-shirted man scolded, glaring at him.

“Ah, I know, I know. I won’t do it again! But, by the way, I encountered another cultivator at that restaurant,” the blue-clothed man said, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh? Really? Was his magical power deep?” The yellow-shirted man’s attention was indeed diverted.

“Plenty shallow. Looked like he had just barely reached the seventh or eighth layer of the basic technique, just barely enough to qualify for the Ascension Assembly. Honestly, with cultivation that shallow, what business does he have stirring up trouble in Lan Province? Does he really think he can get lucky and come out on top at the Ascension Assembly?” The blue-clothed man curled his lip.

“How old was he?”

“Seventeen or eighteen, I’d say.”

“That explains it. He’s almost certainly here with an elder, probably to broaden his horizons and gain some experience. He’ll likely wait another ten years for the next Ascension Assembly before truly participating,” the yellow-shirted man said with a smile.

“I thought so! Still, his aptitude isn’t bad. If he trains another ten years, maybe he could reach a level like mine,” the blue-clothed man said smugly.

“Stop boasting! Your tenth-layer technique was just barely completed. There are plenty of cultivators at that level at every year’s Ascension Assembly. Wait until you’ve actually reached the eleventh or twelfth layer before you brag,” the yellow-shirted man said, both exasperated and amused. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left.

“Seriously. If I could have cultivated past the tenth layer without taking a Foundation Establishment Pill, would I even need to come to some Ascension Assembly? I’d just go directly to a master and become a formal disciple,” the blue-clothed man muttered, trailing after him as they both disappeared.