A sharp-eyed man slammed his hand against the table in front of him, shattering it into pieces. His strength clearly far exceeded that of a normal human.
"What did you say?!" he glared at the trembling guard with bloodshot eyes.
"Y-Your nephew and his personal servant have disappeared…"
Fang Da struck the guard, causing his head to explode into a shower of flesh and blood. "Send people after them! I don't believe they've gotten far!"
An elegant woman beside him with a blank expression bowed slightly. "Yes, My Lord," she then left the room, leaving Fang Da alone.
He ran two fingers across his forehead. Whether Fang Ye dies or not, it doesn't matter. The State Lord had already promised Southern Zhou Province's lord position, but even if Fang Peizhi's son is an idiot, it's always better not to leave loose ends.
Fang Da rose from his chair and walked to a shelf beside the window. From it, he took a small piece of paper and a pen. He wrote a simple message:
'My sweet daughter, your cousin has escaped. Please request your husband to declare him a wanted man across the state.
Your Father.'
Fang Da walked to the right side of the shelf, where a hawk rested inside a small metal aviary. After tying the letter to its leg, he opened the window and released it into the sky.
***
After nearly twenty days inside a carriage, Fang Mo finally breathed in the polluted air, thick with the stench of excrement, that marked a large city like Qinghe. Afraid the chatterbox would follow him, he slipped away as quickly as possible, vanishing into the crowd. Finding the place where spiritual roots were being tested was easy; it was such a major event that everyone in the city seemed to know about it.
At the central plaza of Qinghe City, a translucent crystal pillar five meters tall stood at the center. People approached and touched it one by one. Most walked away disappointed, but for every hundred, there was always one whose talent for cultivation attracted the attention of the State Lord's guards.
From what Fang Mo observed, the more the crystal changed upon contact, the better one's spiritual roots. He stepped into the line, where a few intimidating guards stood by to maintain order.
"A hundred gold coins," one of them said, extending a hand.
Fang Mo opened the pouch Brother Huan had given him and handed over the payment. He still had nearly two hundred gold coins left. Even if the test failed, he had enough to survive for several months.
His left hand was still wrapped in bandages, but it had mostly healed. Movement was difficult, but most of the pain had faded thanks to his constant care.
"Mortal spiritual roots. You have no talent for cultivation," the middle-aged woman beside the crystal announced, leaving yet another youth disappointed.
Fang Mo noticed that the rejected youth had only caused the crystal to glow a dull gray, and the light had barely risen a few centimeters. This was the most common result and indicated mortal spiritual roots.
Most people had no talent for cultivation and were destined to die as mortals.
The next person in line was a petite girl with twin blond ponytails. She looked no older than fourteen, but Fang Mo knew everyone here was at least eighteen years old—the minimum age to test one's spiritual roots. Before that, the roots weren't fully developed, and testing early would be a waste of money.
When the girl placed her hand on the crystal, light surged upward like a comet, reaching four meters high and glowing a brilliant red.
The middle-aged woman's eyes lit up. "High-tier fire immortal spiritual roots!"
Several guards immediately approached the girl and escorted her away, leaving the crowd in awe. Since Fang Mo had arrived, this was the first high-tier immortal spiritual root he had seen.
"Place your hand on the crystal," the woman said. She had already repeated this phrase hundreds of times today, and her voice was growing tired.
Fang Mo touched the crystal with his right hand, and like the youth before him, only a dull gray light appeared, rising just a few centimeters inside the crystal.
"Mortal spiritual roots. You have no talent for cultivation."
Fang Mo calmly withdrew his hand from the crystal. Though the result was disappointing, he wasn't disheartened. Since he had decided to pursue cultivation, he would do so. No one, not even his talent, would stop him.
He looked at the middle-aged woman and cupped his fist respectfully. "Senior, may I ask why only those with immortal spiritual roots can cultivate?"
The woman sneered, clearly lacking the patience to entertain his questions. Despite her low talent, she was still a cultivator—and like many cultivators, she had no desire to bother with those deemed worthless.
"Leave."
Fang Mo frowned but didn't dare cause a scene. He turned and walked away, his steps slow but steady. I need to discover why only those with immortal spiritual roots are allowed to cultivate. I refuse to believe there's no solution.
Lost in thought, Fang Mo failed to notice the crowd parting to make way for a distinguished group. At its center stood a breathtaking woman with long, flowing silver hair and white, smooth skin like polished jade. Her eyes shimmered like stars caught in the shadow of an eclipse. Dressed in white robes embroidered with crimson dragons, she radiated a noble presence so overwhelming that no one could mistake her identity—she was the emperor's daughter.
The crowd couldn't help but fall under her charms. She was the kind of woman who could topple kingdoms with her beauty alone.
Fang Mo continued to walk ignorantly until he collided with one of the guards who surrounded the princess. Fang Ye was a person who barely exercised and only wasted his time in bets and drinks; his physique couldn't be compared to a royal guard who followed a Spartan regime of training.
The impact barely made the guard move, but it was more than enough to throw Fang Mo to the ground.
"Kid, you dare to approach Your Highness?!" the guard frowned as he looked at Fang Mo. Without notice, he unsheathed his sword and prepared to decapitate Fang Mo. Approaching royalty without permission was more than enough to have the person in front of him hanged, no matter who he was.
Fang Mo stared at the guard with his eyes wide open. He had only collided by mistake with him, and the person wanted to kill him? Curse my luck! Fang Mo's eyes grew cold as he moved his right hand toward the small knife inside his boot.
"Stop!" a beautiful, melodious voice rang behind the guard. Seeing the guard stopping his attack, Fang Mo did the same. He knew his chances of leaving alive in a confrontation here were almost none; if he could avoid one, all the better. He was capable of risking his life without hesitation, but he wasn't an idiot to throw it away for nothing.
The princess stared at the guard angrily. "You want to kill a person only because he bumped into you by mistake?"
"Y-Your Highness, I—" the guard wanted to protest that he was only doing it to keep her safe, but the princess's angry stare made him understand that any excuse wouldn't be accepted. He sheathed his sword and kneeled on the floor. "Forgive this subordinate for his hasty decision!"
The princess waved her hand. "It's okay, no one was hurt, just be more careful next time." She moved closer to Fang Mo, who was staring at her with caution.
"Forgive my subordinate, he only wanted to protect me. Nice to meet you, my name is Xu Yan." A smile adorned her face as she addressed Fang Mo.
Fang Mo stood on his feet; his face returned to normal. He thought the princess was only trying to seem nice to gather the crowd's attention. Even if that wasn't the case, he couldn't care less about her. No matter how beautiful she was, could her beauty make him grow stronger or cultivate?
"No problem. I'll take my leave now," he said, moving away from Xu Yan's group.
But his action received the fury of both her subordinates and the crowd around them.
"What kind of manners are these?! Is this how you treat Your Highness?!" A beautiful servant with chubby cheeks and big mountain peaks beside Xu Yan stared at him with narrow eyes. She wore a long blue dress that enhanced her charm.
"It's okay, Qian Fan. Let's forget about it," said Xu Yan, trying to calm her down.
Fang Mo glanced over his shoulder, his expression cold, eyes like blades locking onto Qian Fan's. "I, Fang Mo, respect only those who show me respect." Without another word, he turned away and vanished into the crowd.
Xu Yan trembled as she stared at Fang Mo's retreating figure. Her hand moved to her mouth, and her face turned pale, as if she had seen a ghost. "F-Fang Mo?"