The Dynasty of Cultivating Immortality

C6 – A Thief

Ni Huibo followed the others out of the room, pausing at the courtyard gate. He watched their retreating figures, unsure of what to say. He might not have known the full value of the prime minister’s works, but he was aware that over the past few centuries, the prime minister’s mastery in painting was unparalleled in the Croburg Kingdom. Whenever he read, he often found himself drawn to sections about Xue Gui.

One day, sparked by sudden inspiration, he noticed after a calligraphy session that his own writing bore a resemblance to the prime minister’s. With each new attempt, the similarities grew until he could replicate the prime minister’s script perfectly. He selected the most similar piece and stamped it with his seal to differentiate the real from the fake. He hadn’t anticipated that it would lead to such a misunderstanding today.

Why were they so reluctant to let him explain first?

Well, let them scramble over it.

They can covet my possessions all they want. As for theirs, I can neither see nor touch them.

Even with their diligent cultivation, they eventually showed their true colors as thieves, brazenly trying to take his calligraphy.

What good did it do?

With these thoughts, Ni Huibo turned back and entered the main house. He gathered his writing materials, ground the ink, and smoothed out a sheet of paper on the table. After contemplating the sixteen characters with his eyes closed, he opened them and began to write.

The sixteen characters sprang to life on the paper in an instant.

If Ji Fanwei were here, he would be astonished to see that the young man’s every gesture exuded the air of a master. He would be even more amazed to discover that this piece was identical to the one Ni Situo had torn in half, indistinguishable from the original.

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Indeed, both pieces were by the same hand, just not Xue Gui’s.

​Ni Huibo set down his brush and gently blew on the ink. He then picked up the paper, gave it a few shakes, and stored it away contentedly. He planned to hang it on a hook on the wall, thinking that if anyone else came to claim it, he would simply hand it over to avoid the heartache of it being damaged in a tussle.

“What exquisite calligraphy!”

At that moment, a sincere exclamation broke the silence of the room, startling Ni Huibo.

“Such remarkable calligraphy! To grasp the essence of Xue Gui’s style to this extent is truly unparalleled in this world! I never imagined I’d find such a prodigy in this humble, dilapidated dwelling. This is indeed a rare find.”

Who was this person?

Ni Huibo abruptly looked up, catching a glimpse of a figure clad in black. Before he could get a better look, the figure swiftly descended and landed behind him. With a swift motion, the stranger struck the back of Ni Huibo’s head.

Ni Huibo’s head slammed into the table before he could react, and he collapsed, still and silent.

The man in black stepped forward, his full silhouette now visible. His face was masked, his attire that of a night prowler, his stature short, his head somewhat balding. He glanced at Ni Huibo, yet his words remained admiring.

“Indeed, he is a genius, barely eighteen, I presume? Nevertheless, in light of your exceptional talent, I shall spare your life.” He then pocketed the freshly written calligraphy Ni Huibo had been working on, scanned the surroundings, and prepared to make his exit.

Suddenly, an intense sense of danger surged within him!

The man in black spun around to find the youth who had been prone on the table now standing erect. Ni Huibo faced him with an impassive stare, steadily advancing.

“You…”

His surprise was palpable. The blow had been substantial. He had struck Ni Huibo lightly, confident that he was no more than an ordinary person, an attack meant to render him unconscious for half an hour. Yet, the young man seemed utterly unaffected.

Could there have been an error in his strength? Impossible! A cultivator at the second level would never misjudge their own force.

What then was happening?

Ni Huibo remained silent. From the moment he rose from the table, his gaze never wavered from the man in black. His expression had turned even colder than before, exuding an air of aloof superiority.

Despite his shock, the man in black was dismissive. No matter how extraordinary Ni Huibo seemed, he was still just a mortal. Even if Ni Huibo had surprised him on several occasions, to challenge a cultivator at the second level was a fool’s errand. Not waiting for Ni Huibo to approach, he moved forward, intent on striking first. Previously, he had refrained from delivering a fatal blow out of respect for Ni Huibo’s talent. But should Ni Huibo dare to obstruct his path, he would not hesitate to claim another life.

Ni Huibo moved at a leisurely pace, while the man in black swept toward him like a swift gust of wind. In a mere moment, he was face-to-face with the young man, launching a punch that was incredibly fast and shimmered with a faint glow, likely imbued with spiritual energy.

Yet the young man with the icy demeanor seemed oblivious. He kept walking, showing no signs of pausing or attempting to evade.

“Mortals will be mortals. Even a cultivator of the first level wouldn’t dare to take this punch head-on, and yet you stand there, utterly indifferent. Do you truly believe I can’t harm you?” the man in black thought to himself, his inner sneer turning into a surge of force. He intensified his punch and, like lightning, was upon Ni Huibo, unleashing his attack.

The energy reached its target in the blink of an eye. It was then that a subtle change flickered across Ni Huibo’s stoic face—a glint of excitement in his eyes. He remained stationary, then abruptly stepped forward, perfectly timing his hand to meet the oncoming energy with a counterpunch.

The energy and fist met.

The fist stood unyielding.

The energy scattered in every direction.

A recoil formed at the center, hurtling back faster than it had arrived, striking the man in black in the abdomen and catapulting him into the courtyard.

Puff!

It all unfolded too swiftly for the man in black to grasp what had just occurred before he found himself sprawled on the ground, blood spraying from his lips.

Struggling to rise, the man in black propped himself up and looked up at Ni Huibo with eyes wide with terror.

“Who are you? I don’t recall the Ni family having anyone of your caliber.”

He fell silent mid-sentence, collapsing once more.

His fate, whether dead or alive, remained unknown.

Ni Huibo watched the man in black now lying motionless in the courtyard. His expression, once cold, softened to normalcy. Withdrawing his fist, he wiped the sweat from his brow and whispered to himself, “I’ve lost control again…” He furrowed his brow in concern.

This unsettling sensation had first emerged just half a month ago. Little did he expect that in barely ten days, it would resurface, lingering even longer than before.

What was happening?

Ni Huibo scratched the back of his head, feeling a mix of relief and concern.

He made his way into the courtyard and retrieved the items from the embrace of the man in black. He intended to return to the house to address the unease in his body when a crimson box tumbled from the man’s grasp and came to a rest by his feet.

“What’s this?”

The box immediately caught Ni Huibo’s attention.

It was extraordinarily ornate. As he stooped to pick it up, he was met with a sensation of chill and weightiness.

A thought struck him about an item reported missing from the City Hall, rumored to be a treasure resembling a bead. Could it be that this box contained the very item the City Hall was searching for?