Martial Immortality: Starting with the Spirit Beast Scroll

’So this is where you’ve been hiding. You really picked a good spot!’

Zhao Lin thought to himself as he gazed at Old Ridge Peak.

Back when the Drilling Mountain Leopard and his gang ran rampant, they often frequented the areas around Seven Pillar Peak, Old Ridge Peak, and Fuli Valley.

After the bandits were wiped out, the county constabulary burned their three lairs to the ground to prevent them from ever rising from the ashes. Now, only ruins remained.

The location was secluded yet not far from Qinghe County—an excellent hiding spot indeed.

’It seems Chu Liu couldn’t bring himself to abandon everything and flee after all.’

Unaware that Zhao Lin was tailing him, Geng Jin walked some distance up the mountain until he reached a collapsed gate. He placed a bundle on a large, conspicuous rock.

He puckered his lips and let out a sharp whistle, then drew the saber from his waist and struck the large rock three times!

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The sound of metal striking stone echoed through the mountains.

He then sheathed his saber and turned to head back down the mountain.

Zhao Lin let him go. His gaze shifted toward the summit, and he waited patiently for Chu Liu to appear.

After about the time it would take to eat a meal, a figure descended from the mountain. He moved with a light and quiet step, pausing every so often to peer down the slope.

Although it was too dark to make out his face, the man’s build and figure were much like Chu Liu’s, only his movements held a hint of caution and timidity.

Before long, the man finally reached the mountain gate.

Using the moonlight, Zhao Lin focused his gaze and saw that the man’s clothes were ragged, his hair was a mess, and his beard was scraggly. He had completely lost his former suave and dashing appearance.

A mountain breeze drifted by. Zhao Lin inhaled deeply—the scent coming from the man was identical to the one on the dagger’s hilt.

’Chu Liu. It really is you!’

Unaware that Zhao Lin was right there, Chu Liu’s face lit up with joy when he saw the bundle on the rock. He snatched it and quickly scurried back up the mountain.

A moment later, Zhao Lin emerged from behind a large tree and followed at a leisurely pace.

Chu Liu seemed to be in a good mood. Humming a little tune, he walked with a spring in his step into the ruins of the bandit stronghold.

The great fire years ago had burned the stronghold to the ground, leaving only a few of its stone structures intact.

Chu Liu ducked into a house that was still relatively intact and eagerly opened the bundle. At the sight of the food inside, he couldn’t help but swallow hard. GULP.

He grabbed the wine jug, broke open the clay seal, and took two huge gulps...

"That hits the spot!"

Chu Liu exclaimed with a grin, then grabbed the roasted chicken and began to tear off huge bites.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he muttered to himself, "So damn good! If only I had a hot piece of ass right now, it would be perfect..."

Just then, a deep voice sounded from outside the house. "No hot pieces of ass, but how about a rough old man?"

A jolt went through Chu Liu. His hand trembled, and the roasted chicken fell to the ground.

But his reflexes were lightning-fast. He snatched up the Long Sword beside him and roared, "Who’s there!"

CRASH! A heavy foot kicked the door open, and Zhao Lin stepped into the room.

"Who are you?"

Chu Liu asked warily, his expression tense.

Zhao Lin had smeared pearl powder on his face, and in the dim light, his features were obscured. Chu Liu didn’t recognize him at first.

"The man who’s here to take your life."

Zhao Lin sneered and slowly advanced on Chu Liu.

"So it was you!"

Chu Liu finally recognized Zhao Lin’s voice. His eyebrows shot up, and a flash of pure hatred crossed his eyes.

He had always believed himself to be the most outstanding disciple of the Liuhe Sect, that the one sent to train at the Xingyun Sect should have been him.

If it hadn’t been for Zhao Lin’s appearance, coupled with their master’s favoritism, he would never have fallen so low.

Old grudges and new hatreds surged in his heart. Chu Liu sprang to his feet, thrusting his sword toward Zhao Lin.

"Die!"

Zhao Lin sidestepped nimbly and threw a straight punch—the Ice Fist.

In an instant, Chu Liu felt a bone-chilling cold, which took him completely by surprise. He raised a palm to block, but the oppressive cold aura washed over him, making him shiver uncontrollably.

’He’s not Zhao Lin! There’s no way Zhao Lin is this powerful!’

The thought had barely formed in his mind when Zhao Lin swiped a clawed hand at his chest, forcing him to retreat in a panic.

Zhao Lin stepped forward, striking down with his clawed hand from above. The attack emanated a sinister, cold aura, its power terrifyingly sharp.

Scared out of his wits, Chu Liu mustered every trick he knew, twisting his body to dodge with all his might.

Zhao Lin gave no quarter, striking with a third and fourth claw in quick succession. Chu Liu could no longer defend himself and was caught by the throat.

"Spare me, Senior!"

Chu Liu cried out, begging for his life.

By now, he could sense the power of his opponent’s Qi and Blood, which only confirmed his suspicion that this wasn’t Zhao Lin. He couldn’t think of anyone in Qinghe County with this level of skill, which was why he had addressed him as "Senior."

Zhao Lin had no intention of giving him an easy death. His hand slid to the right, seizing a pressure point on Chu Liu’s shoulder as he injected a stream of Cold Ice Force into his body.

Chu Liu’s entire body went numb, and he couldn’t muster the slightest bit of internal energy.

Zhao Lin grabbed Chu Liu as if he were a baby chick, raised his foot, and kicked him three times in his Qi Sea, right in his lower abdomen.

"AARGH..."

Chu Liu sprayed a mouthful of blood and snarled through gritted teeth, "You dare destroy my cultivation!"

"Why are you so worried about your cultivation when you can’t even keep your life?"

Zhao Lin sneered, wiping his face with one hand. He stared at Chu Liu and asked, "Take a good look. Do you see who I am now?"

...

At the foot of a mountain about ten miles west of Qinghe County lies the Five Tombs Plain. Nestled by the mountains and a river, its beautiful scenery makes it a place of excellent feng shui. Many people from Qinghe County are buried here after they die.

Within the cemetery was a new grave, before which were offerings of grains, dried fruit, incense, candles, and joss paper.

The disciples and apprentices of the Liuhe Sect stood solemnly in hemp mourning clothes, white bands wrapped around their heads. Zhu Huaishan’s widow, Lady He, also arrived at the grave, supported by her handmaiden.

Chief Constable Guo Sheng of West City and his constables were also in attendance, along with residents and merchants from the area surrounding the Liuhe Sect.

"Chief Constable Guo, Shopkeeper Liu, Landlord Li..."

Zhao Lin cupped his fist in salute and announced in a clear voice, "I have gathered you all here today to bear witness."