The woman apparently didn’t hear what Fang Shuwen said, nor did she linger long before the caravan.

After exchanging just a few words with them, she tapped her foot lightly and vanished from sight.

Fang Shuwen shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed after her for a long time, looking quite reluctant to see her go.

Sweat beaded on Chen Yan’s forehead.

"You’re not actually thinking of capturing her to use as a mount, are you?"

Xu Shuxin also stared at Fang Shuwen, dumbfounded.

Fang Shuwen rolled his eyes.

"Of course not."

"That young lady was quite a looker..."

Chen Yan’s lips twitched.

"It would be better if you were only thinking of capturing her as a mount."

"?"

Fang Shuwen looked completely lost.

"So, are you supporting me or not?"

"..."

Chen Yan realized there was no right answer and could only glare at him.

"When the day comes that the righteous factions of the Jianghu brand you a member of the Demon Dao, don’t you dare say you know me."

With that, he patted his little donkey, and the two of them trotted on ahead.

Fang Shuwen burst out laughing.

"When that happens, I’ll just say I was instigated by Chen Yan, the Young Master of the Heaven-Reaching Pavilion!"

As he spoke, he spurred his horse, and the fine steed beneath him shot forward.

The people in the caravan hadn’t noticed Fang Shuwen and Chen Yan. Seeing two more figures suddenly dart out, they were scared half to death.

They thought they were more mountain bandits.

But the three people, one donkey, and one horse simply galloped past them and vanished in the blink of an eye. Only then did the caravan members breathe a long sigh of relief.

Fang Shuwen didn’t stay idle on the road, pestering Chen Yan again about the woman’s identity.

Chen Yan, likely worried that Fang Shuwen would actually try to capture the woman and make her his mount, hemmed and hawed, reluctant to answer.

After all, whether he meant "mount" or "*mount*"... neither was right. Both were firmly in the territory of the Demon Dao.

His reaction, however, made it clear that he definitely knew something.

Only after making absolutely sure that Fang Shuwen wouldn’t try to capture her as a mount did he finally speak.

"You can’t just call her ’young lady’..."

"You should address her as Senior. If I’m not mistaken, she is Miao Feichan, also known as ’Immortal Light Transformation,’ whose Lightweight Technique is the best in the world."

"The best Lightweight Technique in the world? The whole world?"

Fang Shuwen was astonished.

"You don’t just mean the Eastern Domain, but the entire world?"

"That’s right."

Chen Yan nodded.

"Her Lightweight Technique is number one in the Five Domains Martial World."

"’Immortal Light Transformation’... Miao Feichan!"

"It’s said that her Lightweight Technique was taught to her by an Immortal and is not something a mortal could ever achieve. Her title comes from the saying: ’Immortal light becomes a shadow, leaving no trace; she flees like a startled swan soaring through the highest heavens.’"

Fang Shuwen was impressed, even if he didn’t fully grasp the implications.

He couldn’t help but rub his chin.

"So, it looks like capturing her to be my mount... really won’t be easy."

"...You’re still thinking about it?"

Chen Yan’s eyes went wide.

Fang Shuwen burst out laughing.

"It was just a joke. She’s a senior in the Jianghu. How could I be so outrageous?"

Chen Yan looked at him suspiciously.

’People always say Wu Lingxiao is arrogant,’ Chen Yan thought, ’but in my opinion, this Fang Shuwen’s audacity is completely off the charts.’

’Back in the catacombs of Flying Snow City, Wu Lingxiao demanded the Seven-String Ancient Chapter from him. An ordinary person, even if unwilling, would never have refused so decisively. Yet this man had rejected him flat out, showing absolutely no regard for Wu Lingxiao.’

’As for all the others who wanted to steal the Seven-String Ancient Chapter, he ignored them completely.’

’That’s why Chen Yan felt that no matter what this rogue did, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least.’

Fortunately, Fang Shuwen didn’t bring up capturing Miao Feichan as a mount again. They continued their journey at a leisurely pace, and by late afternoon, the group arrived at a small town.

The town monument bore two large words: Qiuhai Town.

"Once we pass through this town, it’s another three days to Qingyang Mountain."

Chen Yan’s words surprised Fang Shuwen.

’I didn’t think we’d be there so soon. The journey felt a lot shorter than I expected.’

’Besides, the whole journey has been completely peaceful. The three of us have mostly just been enjoying the scenery and trying to catch mounts, nothing else.’

’It’s like Li Xiuci and the Sang Mountain Seven Face have completely disappeared.’

It was so easy that it felt a bit unreal to Fang Shuwen.

Chen Yan, however, thought it was perfectly normal.

"Brother Fang, your name might not be famous throughout the Jianghu yet, but it wouldn’t be difficult for an interested party to investigate your deeds."

"The Sang Mountain Seven Face may have a fearsome reputation, but after seeing what you’re capable of, Brother Fang, I doubt they’d dare to provoke you lightly."

"That kid really hired the right person when he offered his family’s Saber Technique for your protection."

By now, they had entered the town, only to find a large crowd blocking the road ahead.

Just as Fang Shuwen was about to speak, he heard waves of desperate pleas coming from the crowd.

"Please, I beg you, let my granddaughter go!"

"She’s only fourteen... She’s not even of age yet! Please, I beg you, have mercy!"

The voice was filled with anguish, and it sounded like it belonged to an old woman.

Fang Shuwen and Chen Yan exchanged a glance. The streets of Qiuhai Town were narrow, and the crowd completely blocked their way. Using some subtle techniques to part the crowd, the two of them forged a path for Xu Shuxin, the donkey, and the horse.

Looking ahead, they saw a young girl crying, her face streaked with tears—a truly heart-wrenching sight.

She was being forcefully dragged by two burly men dressed as servants, dark bruises already forming on her pale wrists.

Nearby, a raggedly dressed old woman was being held down by two other servants. She kept reaching for the girl’s hand, unable to move.

All she could do was plead desperately, repeatedly striking her head against the ground until her forehead was bloodied.

The surrounding townspeople all watched on, their faces filled with anger they dared not voice.