Crow Immortal: I Can Duplicate Infinite Resources

Chapter 252: Suspended in the Hall

Han Yu listened quietly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled cultivators of the Seeking Truth Daoist Temple.

When Ma Quan mentioned “enjoyment,” the subtle shift in the group’s demeanor was unmistakable. Their eyes took on a specific, greedy glint—the exact same look Steward Wang had given Wei Kunyi back in Wanchun Valley, or the look mortal thugs gave when discussing the imperial concubines of the Nanli Kingdom. They were harboring distinctly impure thoughts.

Han Yu mentally connected the dots. The entire congregation boasted ruddy complexions and luxurious silk robes. They lived in a sprawling, opulent estate and were bankrolled by the Yulin Kingdom as state preceptors. Their days were clearly spent indulging in absolute, unrestrained decadence. The “vegetarian diet” they so proudly touted was nothing more than a superficial facade to maintain their pious image.

Different paths do not make for common plans, Han Yu thought coldly.

He had gotten the intelligence he needed regarding the Mystic One Sect’s patrols. He could navigate those waters carefully, relying on his disguises and further reconnaissance. Staying here to listen to a pack of hedonists brag about their luxurious lifestyle was a complete waste of time.

Making his decision, Han Yu stood up. “I am deeply grateful for Fellow Daoist Ma’s invitation, and for the generous hospitality of Temple Master Lin and the rest of the Seeking Truth Daoist Temple. The intelligence regarding the Mystic One Sect’s patrols is invaluable.”

He offered a polite but final bow. “However, I have urgent matters that require my immediate attention. I cannot impose on your time any longer. I must take my leave.”

The warm, welcoming smiles on the faces of Temple Master Lin, Supervisor Liu, and Ma Quan instantly vanished, replaced by dark, offended scowls.

“Fellow Daoist Li, a grand banquet has already been prepared in your honor,” Ma Quan said, his voice losing its friendly cadence. “Why the sudden rush to leave? Have we offended you in some way?”

“Not at all, Fellow Daoist Ma. I appreciate your kind intentions,” Han Yu replied evenly. “But my schedule is strict, and I simply cannot stay. I apologize.”

Ma Quan stepped forward, dropping the pretense of polite suggestion. “Fellow Daoist Li, let us be frank. You are a Rogue Cultivator. You didn’t even know the basic patrol routes of the Mystic One Sect. It’s obvious you have no powerful backing and very few connections.”

He gestured to the opulent hall. “Given your situation, why not stay with us? We have the cultivation resources you desperately need, and the worldly pleasures you clearly desire. Furthermore, we aren’t forcing you to commit right now. We only ask that you share a meal and stay the night. Once you experience what the Seeking Truth Daoist Temple can offer a lone wanderer like yourself, you’ll understand what a paradise this truly is.”

Han Yu kept his expression blank. “Fellow Daoist Ma, every man has his own aspirations. There is no need to force the issue. I am a Rogue Cultivator, and I have no intention of binding myself to any Sect or faction.”

He turned toward the door. “Farewell.”

“Halt!”

The hulking Supervisor Liu suddenly surged to his feet. The heavy, oppressive aura of a Foundation Establishment cultivator erupted from his body, filling the hall. “You arrogant junior! We offer you unparalleled kindness, and you throw it back in our faces?”

Liu glared at Han Yu. “We invite you to eat, and you refuse. We offer you a night of pleasure, and you walk away. You treat our goodwill like dog scraps! If we let you walk out of here without paying a price, the entire region will think the Seeking Truth Daoist Temple is weak and easily bullied!”

Han Yu found the aggressive posturing genuinely amusing. The rest of the Daoists remained silent, clearly supporting Liu’s violent escalation. “Tell me, members of the Seeking Truth Daoist Temple, how many Rogue Cultivators have you hosted before? Did you threaten every single one of them when they tried to leave? What does it matter if I refuse your food or your ‘enjoyment’?”

“You misunderstand, Fellow Daoist Li,” Ma Quan said, though his tone was condescending. “Most Rogue Cultivators are pathetic wretches with low cultivation, no artifacts, and shallow knowledge. They don’t qualify for the treatment we offered you. Even if they begged on their knees, we wouldn’t let them scrub our floors.”

He smirked. “But you are at the eighth layer of Qi Refining, and you clearly have no backing. You are exactly the kind of talent we are looking to acquire. Therefore, you must stay. We insist.”

Han Yu finally understood the game. It was a classic case of serving dishes according to the guest. Because he had introduced himself as a clueless Rogue Cultivator, they had deduced he was isolated, vulnerable, and ripe for coercion.

A valuable lesson, Han Yu noted internally. Sometimes playing the weak, ignorant wanderer invites trouble. If I had presented myself as a disciple of a major Sect, they wouldn’t have dared try to strong-arm me. It was too late to change his story now. Not that it mattered.

“My business elsewhere is urgent. I truly cannot stay,” Han Yu stated flatly. He cupped his hands one last time, turned his back on the hostile room, and walked toward the exit.

“You insolent brat! Did I give you permission to leave?!” Supervisor Liu roared.

With a vicious thrust of his hand, Liu launched a gleaming flying sword. Fueled by surging Qi, the blade shrieked through the air, aimed squarely at Han Yu’s back.

Han Yu’s eyes went ice-cold.

Without breaking his stride or even turning his head, Han Yu fired nine invisible Star Luo Threads.

The threads lashed out, instantly wrapping around the incoming blade and halting its momentum dead in the air. Then, with a brutal flex of Han Yu’s will, the sword violently reversed course.

To the horrified onlookers, it looked like absolute magic. Supervisor Liu had launched a lethal strike, the target hadn’t even flinched, and the sword had miraculously turned around to attack its own master.

To effortlessly hijack a Foundation Establishment attack without moving a muscle… the implications were terrifying.

“What kind of trick is this?!” Supervisor Liu shrieked, his eyes bulging as his own sword rocketed toward his face.

Desperately backpedaling, Liu summoned a heavy round shield Magical Artifact and frantically channeled his Qi into it.

“He’s not at the eighth layer of Qi Refining!” Liu screamed as the sword slammed into his shield with a deafening CLANG, knocking both artifacts to the floor. “He’s a Foundation Establishment cultivator!”

Liu stumbled, his mind reeling as he stared at the retreating figure of Han Yu.

Temple Master Lin, despite his aged appearance, possessed a much sharper instinct for survival. Realizing the catastrophic error they had just made, he immediately whirled on his subordinate.

“Supervisor Liu! What in the heavens are you doing?!” the old man bellowed, his voice cracking with feigned outrage. “Who gave you permission to attack our esteemed guest?! Did you consult me, the Temple Master?!”

Lin pointed a trembling finger at the floor. “Get on your knees and beg Senior Li for forgiveness! Now!”

He emphasized the word Senior with desperate clarity.

Supervisor Liu finally grasped the horrifying reality. The sheer casual dominance of that counterattack… was that even something a standard Foundation Establishment cultivator could do? If this man was actually a Golden Core monster traveling in disguise, their entire temple could be wiped from the face of the earth with a single thought!

Terror gripped Liu’s heart. He threw his massive frame to the floor, slamming his forehead against the polished tiles. “Senior Li, please forgive me! I am a crude, stupid man! When I saw Senior insisting on leaving, my fragile ego assumed you were looking down on us! I attacked out of petty anger! Please, Senior, have mercy on my worthless life!”

Temple Master Lin bowed deeply, his hands trembling. “Senior Li, the fault is mine for failing to discipline my subordinates. I beg for your profound understanding.”

Lin shot a frantic, wide-eyed glare at the rest of the room.

The other Daoists snapped out of their stupor. This “Rogue Cultivator Li Ya” was undeniably a Senior—at the absolute minimum, a high-tier Foundation Establishment master, perhaps even something worse!

In unison, the opulent cultivators threw themselves to the floor, their luxurious robes pooling around them as they kowtowed and babbled pathetic apologies.

Han Yu paused at the doorway, mildly amused. I only used a few Star Luo Threads. What exactly do they think I am? But his amusement quickly faded into cold pragmatism. Their groveling was pathetic, but the fact remained: Supervisor Liu had launched a lethal strike at his back. This wasn’t a misunderstanding that could be smoothed over with apologies. It required a definitive response.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Han Yu commanded the Star Luo Threads.

In the blink of an eye, the invisible wires coiled tightly around Liu’s discarded sword and shield, completely neutralizing them. But the final thread didn’t stop. Like a translucent viper, it shot straight toward the kneeling Supervisor Liu.

Liu’s eyes went wide. His Qi frantically signaled that an invisible, lethal force was already upon him. Pure, unadulterated terror flooded his face.

SHLUCK.

The Star Luo Thread punched cleanly through his chest and out his back.

With a sharp upward yank, Han Yu hoisted the massive man into the air, suspending him dead center in the grand hall.

Supervisor Liu convulsed, dangling helplessly a few feet off the ground like a slaughtered hog. Thick, dark blood poured from his chest wound, splattering loudly against the pristine floor tiles.

“I sensed you bore no true killing intent and only wished to subdue me,” Han Yu said, his voice echoing in the dead silent hall. “That is the only reason you are still breathing.”

He turned slowly to face the prostrate crowd.

“Now,” Han Yu commanded softly. “You will tell me absolutely everything you know about the Mystic One Sect and their market.”

The remaining Daoists, who had still been harboring a desperate sliver of hope that the “Senior” might be merciful, felt their blood turn to ice. Seeing a powerful Foundation Establishment master hoisted into the air and bled like livestock shattered their remaining courage.

No one dared utter another plea for mercy. No one dared play any more games. Trembling violently, they scrambled to spill every secret they knew.