Chapter Twenty-Two: Seeking a Clear Path

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Fast!

Too fast!

He had merely spoken a few words, yet in that brief moment, he was seized by a force that brooked no resistance.

For a time, Wang Hongbo felt as though the hand gripping his neck was forged from pure iron—no matter how he struggled, it did not slacken in the slightest.

The graceful maid beside him let out a shrill scream.

The two guest retainers were rooted to the spot, stupefied, helpless.

“Let’s talk this out! Young master, please, let’s talk this out! Put the county magistrate down—anything can be discussed…” One of the guest retainers, trembling with fear, spoke as he cautiously edged away, hoping to put some distance between himself and Xu Yuan.

Not only Wang Hongbo, but none of them had seen Xu Yuan’s movements clearly.

Yet there was no doubt: once the county magistrate was in his grasp, his life hung entirely in the balance of a single whim.

“I ask, you answer.”

Xu Yuan’s expression was icy, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. “Was it at your direction that Li Licheng plotted to murder Gao, the manager of Immortal’s Rest?”

Cold sweat poured down Wang Hongbo’s forehead, and he gazed at Xu Yuan as if he were a demon.

Was he the one who gave the order?

Of course he was!

A mere farmer, who by luck acquired a secret recipe for spirits, suddenly transformed into a tavern manager. It sounded inspiring—yet in truth, he was nothing more than a fat sheep awaiting slaughter. No connections, no background, holding a valuable recipe, rich but powerless—a child carrying gold through a bustling marketplace.

Had he known his place and handed over the recipe for Drunken Immortal, perhaps he could have become a wealthy gentleman. But since he refused, his fate was dictated by Wang Hongbo’s word.

Such truths could never be spoken now.

Wang Hongbo’s eyes darted anxiously, searching for a clever excuse.

But then, a sigh was heard.

“I see…”

With a faint crack, Xu Yuan’s hand tightened just enough—and the corpse was tossed aside.

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Two more screams echoed nearby, rougher and more terrified than before.

Xu Yuan felt no discomfort after killing. He disliked killing, but it was not beyond him.

In this world, there were always people who deserved death. If he did not encounter them, so be it; but if he did, he did not hesitate to act.

He could only descend to the mortal realm one day each year, and he hoped that on that day, the people he met and the things he saw would bring him greater joy.

He simply wished that those he cared for might live better lives—nothing more.

Xu Yuan walked toward the entrance of the county office. Only then did the petty officials arrive, wielding clubs and swords, intent on stopping the villain. Yet they were swiftly sent flying, not one able to withstand a single exchange.

When the “martial experts” hired by Wang Hongbo finally rushed in, they saw a man strolling leisurely toward the gates, behind him a throng of officials lying on the ground, moaning in pain.

Under their astonished gaze, Xu Yuan cast them a glance.

“Sorry to bother you, we… we’re just looking around.”

The man at the front, wielding a broadsword, dropped it with a clang. His muscular frame trembled uncontrollably, and even his thick beard managed a sheepish yet polite smile.

Xu Yuan ignored them, walking onto the street as if nothing had happened.

“Brother, that man’s skill…”

Once Xu Yuan’s figure had vanished, the group behind the muscular man showed signs of relief, still shaken.

“From the time we heard the commotion and g