Chapter 227: Recognizing the Master

Han Juncheng sat under the eaves, his flat face adorned with black-rimmed glasses, silently watching the fortune teller in front of him.

The fortune teller humbly smiled and asked, "Mr. Han, I've already explained the situation. Do you think tonight is a suitable time to act?"

Han Juncheng scoffed, "When my father was still the Border Commander, I wouldn't even bother to give a second glance to someone like you."

The fortune teller nodded repeatedly, "Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Young Master Han. You're also showing respect to the master."

Han Juncheng snorted, "Master? Who is your master? He Jiaqing? You have no idea what my father's status was. Back then, it wasn't easy for a merchant's son like He Jiaqing to even get an audience with me."

The fortune teller maintained his smile.

Han Juncheng was indeed arrogant, but this was not born of solitary pride.

"You're acting tonight, and you're only telling me now?" Han Juncheng was very displeased.

The fortune teller explained, "It was an emergency. Originally, the master intended to wait for a better opportunity..."

"Stop rambling! Why are you saying so much?" Han Juncheng impatiently interrupted the fortune teller. "Go prepare everything that needs to be prepared. We'll act tonight at midnight. I really loathe Iron Gate Fortress. A bunch of poor men who can't even produce a few coins, have never seen the world, and don't know how to speak or conduct themselves properly. After this is done, tell He Jiaqing to find an opportunity to wipe them out. They disgust me."

As a House Cultivator, Han Juncheng had also been to Iron Gate Fortress. At that time, he claimed to be a third-level House Cultivator, but in reality, he had already reached the sixth level of cultivation. Initially, he managed to conceal it, but in less than half a month, Han Juncheng beat up an old vegetable vendor over a trivial matter. He used heavy force, severely injuring the old woman. Observing the techniques he used, Zhou Anju knew that Han Juncheng had surpassed the fifth level, and that very night, he was expelled from the fortress. Han Juncheng still harbored resentment to this day; he had always wanted to destroy Iron Gate Fortress.

After setting the time, the fortune teller went to make preparations, while Han Juncheng discussed matters with his House Spirit. He had a House Spirit, but tonight he was going to acknowledge another. Was this operation possible? Yes, it was. The prerequisite was to obtain the House Spirit's consent. Han Juncheng's House Spirit was a woman; it was unclear what she saw in him, but she was utterly submissive, naturally agreeing to anything he said.

"Juncheng, you must be extremely careful. There are many masters in Iron Gate Fortress." The masters she referred to were House Spirits.

Han Juncheng scoffed dismissively, "What if there are masters? House Spirits are merely servants of House Cultivators."

The House Spirit said no more.

Han Juncheng sat under the eaves, his expression cold as he looked at the sky.

The fortune teller entered Iron Gate Fortress, and surprisingly, his business had quite a market there. House Cultivators were very superstitious, particularly obsessed with fortune-telling, character divination, and palmistry. The fortune teller walked around the fortress, reading fortunes for over thirty households in a single day. Those who sought his fortune-telling all said he was accurate, but after returning home satisfied, they all felt sleepy. If they were sleepy, they slept; House Cultivators were quite uninhibited in this regard. But this sleep was exceptionally deep; they slept until late at night, not wanting to get up.

This was the method of a seventh-level Illness Cultivator; this very fortune teller was Wan Jinxian. He made every House Cultivator whose fortune he told suffer from narcolepsy, a state that would only last this once; they would be fine after waking up tomorrow. In fact, Wan Jinxian could have inflicted more severe illnesses upon them; he could even bring a plague to Iron Gate Fortress. But it wouldn't be easy to do all this completely undetected. His cultivation was high and his techniques powerful, but House Cultivators were not so easy to kill. As long as they returned to their residences, they could quickly recover. If one House Cultivator fell ill, others would immediately heighten their vigilance. Wan Jinxian was a cautious person; he would not do anything superfluous at a critical moment. For House Cultivators, sleeping wasn't considered an illness; even if they slept too much, ordinary House Cultivators wouldn't mind, even feeling they had gained something.

After dark, Iron Gate Fortress closed its gates, and all was silent. Wan Jinxian used a magic artifact to bring Han Juncheng directly into the fortress from outside. Following the route Wan Jinxian specified, they walked all the way to the fortress lord's mansion. Along the way, they passed by many House Cultivators' homes, yet not a single one detected their presence because all the House Cultivators on that path were asleep.

The mansion was a forbidden area. According to Li Banfeng's instructions, no one was allowed within one hundred meters of the residence, and two House Cultivators were specifically assigned to guard it. Wan Jinxian watched the House Cultivators from a distance and yawned in their direction. Those House Cultivators did not see Wan Jinxian, but the yawn, carrying a virus, drifted towards them. Before long, the two House Cultivators successively began to yawn. They were sleepy. House Cultivators had a strong sense of responsibility and couldn't afford to get sleepy while on duty. They struggled to fight off the drowsiness. First tears streamed, then snot ran. When drool began to dribble from the corners of their mouths, neither could resist any longer, and they successively lay down on the roadside and fell asleep.

Wan Jinxian led Han Juncheng into the mansion. Pointing to the auxiliary building to the east, he said, "Mr. Han, the House Spirit we're looking for is in that building. Please be extremely careful once you enter. I'll wait for you here."

Han Juncheng didn't want to speak with Wan Jinxian; talking to such an inferior person made him uncomfortable. The only thing he needed to confirm was that this House Spirit's name was Zhao Xiaowan.

Upon entering the auxiliary building, a chilling aura assailed him. Han Juncheng detected the scent of a spectral being in the air. He completely disregarded the layout and condition of the residence, directly following the scent up to the second floor.

Wan Jinxian frowned slightly; Han Juncheng's way of doing things was a bit reckless. He Jiaqing had also said that Han Juncheng's cultivation was high enough, but he lacked experience. Wan Jinxian felt that a sixth-level House Cultivator should have experienced some things. He had indeed experienced things; for example, his father's arrest had greatly harmed him. But this was unrelated to combat experience. His cultivation had grown through his House Spirit; it was truly his luck to find a House Spirit so utterly devoted to him in this world. However, this House Spirit could no longer provide him with higher cultivation. This was also why Han Juncheng agreed to take on this task: he really wanted to change his House Spirit.

He had also heard of Zhao Xiaowan's reputation. In his view, a legendary female general was barely worthy of his status. As for how to deal with his previous House Spirit, he hadn't decided. He could keep her as a servant, or perhaps offer her as bait to Zhao Xiaowan. Han Juncheng leaned more towards the second option, feeling Zhao Xiaowan deserved this reward. For a House Spirit with such power and status, giving a gift would surely win her over; then she would do anything he asked.

The auxiliary building was not small; its second floor had seven rooms. Han Juncheng passed by each door one by one, walking back and forth twice, then stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor. He gently pushed open the door and saw no other furnishings inside the room, only a weapon rack. On the weapon rack, there was only a long spear; nothing else was placed there. The spear was one *zhang* and two *chi* long, with a seven-inch and seven-fen tip, exactly as described in the records. The only difference was that this long spear had no red tassel.

Could a spear without a red tassel be Zhao Xiaowan? Had he come to the wrong place? No, he couldn't be wrong. Han Juncheng sensed the extremely formidable power of this long spear. This was the might of the Flying General!

Han Juncheng stood before the long spear and called out, "Zhao Xiaowan!" After waiting for over a minute, the long spear showed no resistance. When a House Spirit's name was called directly and it showed no resistance, it meant the House Spirit accepted the House Cultivator. This process was known as "House Spirit acknowledging its master." Han Juncheng saw that the House Spirit offered no resistance but wasn't overly surprised. In his view, neither his cultivation nor his status gave Zhao Xiaowan any possibility of refusing him.

He reached out to take the long spear from the weapon rack, a complacent smile spreading across his face. From the moment he grasped this long spear, Han Juncheng firmly believed his destiny would return to its proper course. He had always believed that Heaven was too unfair to him. He should have had everything, so why was it all taken away from him? Taking this long spear and walking out of this auxiliary building, the first thing he would do was kill that Illness Cultivator. He utterly loathed Wan Jinxian; a mere subordinate shouldn't have such an expression, an expression that seemed to know everything! After killing that Illness Cultivator, and then the fortress lord here, Han Juncheng believed he could logically occupy Iron Gate Fortress. Starting from Iron Gate Fortress, he would accumulate wealth, then return to Green Water City. In Green Water City, he would crush all the major families underfoot, then return to the Outer Prefecture. After returning to the Outer Prefecture, he would have to kill He Jiaqing. He had long been unable to tolerate He Jiaqing's constant criticisms over the years. By then, those who had looked down on him, those who had accused him of crimes, would all have to die! Han Juncheng would make all those who had offended him kneel on the ground and beg, make them repent for everything they had done, make them...

As his thoughts raced, Han Juncheng realized his hand hadn't touched the long spear. The reason was that his hand had fallen to the ground. The long spear had remained motionless on the weapon rack, at least it appeared so to him. But his hand had severed cleanly at the wrist, as if cut off by a sharp weapon. Blood dripped from the spear tip. Could it be...? But he had just been watching, and the long spear hadn't moved at all. Was her speed too fast...? She hadn't acknowledged him as master? He had clearly called out her name. Why wouldn't she acknowledge him?

Only then did Han Juncheng feel the intense pain in his wrist. He gripped his arm and turned to leave, but stumbled and suddenly fell to the ground. His left leg, from the knee down, was left on the ground. More blood stained the long spear. Han Juncheng let out a wail, and the long spear trembled slightly. Han Juncheng, wailing on the ground, seemed to glimpse a fleeting afterimage. He had lost another leg; his right leg was gone, severed from the thigh down. Han Juncheng was in so much pain he was on the verge of passing out. On his torso, the only intact part remaining was his left hand.

In his ear, a woman's voice sounded: "Crawl!" The voice was soft, yet it carried an irresistible authority. Han Juncheng used his sole remaining hand to desperately crawl out of the room, across the corridor, and down the stairs. Just as he was about to crawl to the doorway, the long spear suddenly appeared, piercing through his shoulder and pinning him to the ground. This was called a public display. On the battlefield, this was a common method to deter enemy forces. Han Juncheng was also very suitable for a public display because his cries were loud enough.

"Save me, save me..." Han Juncheng's vision blurred from crying. Looking at Wan Jinxian by the doorway, he seemed to see his own father. "Dad, save me, Dad, it hurts, save me... Tell someone to find my House Spirit, Dad, she can definitely save me. Dad, pull this spear out, Dad, it really hurts..."

"Child, you've mistaken me for someone else. In your next life, please don't be so reckless."

Wan Jinxian turned and left. If he didn't leave now, he might not be able to leave at all. The crucial thing was that this House Spirit was both deaf and blind, completely unable to hear any sounds. Could Banfeng think of a good solution?