Chapter 168 Which Fifth Realm Has Fallen?

Chapter 168: Which Fifth Realm Master Has Fallen?

The thunder lasted for over an hour, abruptly ceasing only as the hour of the Ox (1-3 AM) drew to a close. The night sky regained its tranquility, the dark clouds dispersed, and the moon emerged as if nothing had happened.

As the moon set and the sun rose, the first rays of dawn streaked across the sky, and A Chan opened her eyes.

"A Chan, you're awake," Chen Hui's voice rang out as she hurried to the bedside. "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

"Not at all," A Chan shook her head. "I feel fantastic."

Or rather, better than ever before.

The lingering weakness she had felt since awakening in this body seemed to have vanished overnight. Her body felt lighter than ever, her mind clearer—a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

"Really?" Chen Hui still seemed worried. "You suddenly fell asleep yesterday and couldn’t be woken no matter what."

A Chan thought for a moment before reassuring her, "Don’t worry. It was just my body recovering, so I fell into a deep sleep—just like when you advance in cultivation and need to rest."

Her explanation sounded logical, but it failed to convince Chen Hui. After breakfast, Chen Hui still took her to the clinic on the neighboring street.

The old doctor had examined A Chan the day before. Seeing her awake and brought in by Chen Hui today, he stepped forward to check her pulse again.

After a while, the old doctor looked puzzled and asked her to switch wrists.

Finally, he released her hand and said, "Miss, your vital energy and blood flow are robust. Your health has fully recovered."

A Chan gave Chen Hui a meaningful look, who thanked the old doctor and offered payment, only to be refused.

"No need for payment—it was just a small favor. However, there is something I’d like to ask you, miss," the old doctor said, his gaze sharp as he studied A Chan.

"Please, go ahead."

"I recall that when I examined you before, your pulse was extremely weak. May I ask which renowned physician you encountered to recover so swiftly?"

A Chan hesitated for a moment before answering vaguely, "I met a doctor from Jiaozhou while traveling."

She couldn’t very well tell the old doctor that her recovery was due to a year of "performing rites"—sending off one family after another, more than she could count on ten fingers.

The old doctor nodded knowingly. "I see. Congratulations, then."

After leaving the clinic, the two didn’t head straight home. Instead, they visited the East Market and stopped by a tailor's atelier on Tianjie (Heavenly Street) to order a few spring garments.

While being measured, the dressmaker—whom they had met a few times before—chatted with A Chan about the thunder from the previous night.

"That thunder last night was terrifying. Did you see it, Miss?"

A Chan had no idea about the thunder. Curious, she asked, "Did it rain last night?"

The ground this morning had been dry, with not a trace of rain.

The dressmaker shook her head. "That’s the strange part. The thunder lasted over an hour, and the lightning was red—but not a single drop of rain fell. No one knows what happened."

"How odd..."

Thunder without rain was clearly a heavenly omen. Could it be that a Fifth Realm Master had fallen?

The thought flashed through her mind, but she didn't ponder it further. Even if a Fifth Realm Master had indeed fallen, it had nothing to do with her.

By the time they left the tailor’s shop, it was approaching midday.

They hadn’t taken a carriage today, yet even after making their way back on foot to Changping Ward, A Chan didn’t feel overly tired.

Their arms were loaded down with parcels, most of them food. As they neared the incense shop, A Chan hurried ahead—only to spot two tall, burly men standing outside their shop across the street.

The street was crowded with passersby, but these two were conspicuously out of place. They were at least eight chi (over six feet) tall, with dark skin.

Dressed in common cloth robes—one in blue, the other in green—they seemed to be trying to blend in but appeared awkward in their attire, as if unused to such clothing.

Chen Hui also noticed the two men. She pulled A Chan back slightly, frowning slightly. "Their qi and blood are exceptionally potent. They don’t seem like locals."

Even Shang Yin, whom she had met before, didn’t exude such vigorous energy.

A Chan scrutinized the men for a long moment before nodding. "They definitely don’t seem like people from Great Xia. But in the open, they probably don’t mean any harm. Let’s go see."

They crossed the street and approached the shop. The two men, seeing Chen Hui open the shop, quickly asked, "Are you the owners of this shop?"

A Chan turned to them. The two looked nearly identical—likely brothers. Their features were angular, their eyes sharp and deep, and their faces striking, but their appearance clearly set them apart from the people of Great Xia.

"Yes. Are you here to buy incense?" A Chan asked.

The two exchanged glances before nodding. "May we take a look inside first?"

"Of course." A Chan invited them inside and had Chen Hui bring out some newly made incense for them to examine.

The two barely glanced at the incense, showing little interest.

Noticing this, A Chan’s gaze shifted. She went upstairs and returned with a small box.

"Perhaps you’d be more interested in thin incense sticks?" She opened the box, revealing dozens of them inside.

These were the Spirit-Guiding Incense she had made last year, along with some crafted by members of the Bright Mirror Bureau using the same formula.

The burly man in blue stiffened at the sight of the contents, blurting out, "Spirit-Guiding Incense?"

A Chan closed the box and smiled meaningfully at them. "So you’re from the Shaman Tribe?"

Having their origins exposed, the two froze momentarily before relaxing.

The man in blue introduced himself, "Well met, miss. I’m Lie Xian, and this is my younger brother, Lie Xing."

"Pleasure to meet you. I’m A Chan." Without beating around the bush, she asked directly, "You sought out my shop specifically. You must have business with me?"

Lie Xian nodded. "To be honest with you, Miss A Chan, we’ve come from the Wilderness. We’re here to deliver a letter."

At the mention of the Wilderness, A Chan immediately knew who the sender was.

Her eyes lit up. "Is it from Hui Xue?"

Lie Xian grinned, his expression turning somewhat guileless. "Indeed, it’s a letter from Miss Hui."

As he spoke, he pulled out a cloth bundle from his robes and handed it to A Chan.

Unwrapping it, A Chan found a thin sheet of white bone—jade-white, pliable enough to coil unbroken, though she couldn't discern what bone it was.

Once she had the bone letter in hand, the Lie brothers turned their gaze away, making no attempt to read its contents.

The words on the bone were etched, not many in number. The first few lines contained Hui Xue’s warm greetings to A Chan and an update on her situation.

Shen Huixue and her mother had settled in a witch tribe village in the wilderness. She mentioned that the villagers were very kind to her and her mother. She often went hunting with them and had participated in village ceremonies, living a happy life there.

Later, she mentioned that she had inquired about the person A Chan tasked her with finding.

From a 200-year-old witch tribe priest in the village, she learned that there had indeed been a couple living nearby—the husband was a fox spirit, and the wife was a witch, even the High Priest of the clan.

However, the couple had been missing for a long time, though their home still stood untouched, and no one had entered it since.

Hui Xue suspected that the old priest likely knew much about the couple but refused to say more.

In closing of the bone letter, Hui Xue mentioned that the brothers delivering the letter were grandsons of the village’s High Priest, named Lie Xian and Lie Xing. They had organized a trade caravan traveling between Great Xia and the wilderness.

If A Chan wished to visit the wilderness, she could travel with them—the journey would be secure.

A Chan traced her fingers over the bone letter, feeling every carved word, her heart still troubled.

Hui Xue had said that her father and mother had been missing for a long time. Had they relocated to avoid being disturbed?

A Chan couldn't say.

But the wilderness was the only place she knew of that was connected to them.

Perhaps they didn’t want her to find them at all, but A Chan still wanted to know—were they safe? Did they still remember her?

Just this once, A Chan thought. Just allow herself this one chance. If she couldn’t find them, she would let go.

After some time, A Chan finally composed herself and bowed to Lie Xian and Lie Xing. “Thank you both for delivering this letter.”

“Don't mention it, Miss A Chan. We were just passing through.”

Lie Xing glanced at his elder brother, apparently disagreeing with his words, but a sharp look from Lie Xian silenced him.

A Chan pretended not to notice their exchange and said, “Hui Xue mentioned that you two frequently travel between Great Xia and the wilderness. If I wished to accompany you, would that be alright?”

“You want to go to the wilderness?” Lie Xian was surprised. Though he found his homeland safe, most Great Xia natives saw it differently—they seemed to believe everywhere outside the empire was dangerous.

And for ordinary people, it truly was.

Lie Xian thought for a moment. “That would work. Our caravan has only a dozen or so people, including women. But we travel quickly on the return journey—Miss, you might not keep up.”

“It’s fine. I’m tougher than I look. I should manage.” A Chan was grateful the last chain had broken—otherwise, she wouldn’t have dared say such a thing.

“If you’ve made your decision, then it’s settled. We’ll depart the capital on the Shangsi Festival, the third day of the third lunar month. You can meet us at the Fulai Inn by the North Gate of the West Market on the second day.”

“I understand. Thank you both.”

“No need for thanks.”

With that settled, Lie Xian led his brother away.

After leaving the incense shop and walking some distance, Lie Xing glanced back at the distant store and finally spoke, his voice heavy with confusion. “Brother, why did Grandmother suddenly use a formation to send the letter last night? And such a valuable bone letter too. It’s just a letter—couldn’t it have waited until our next trip home? A six-month delay wouldn't have made a difference.”

Though just a letter, transmitting it from the wilderness to the capital was no trivial matter, and bone letters weren't easy to make. Only they could withstand the formation’s power and preserve the contents intact.

When they received the letter, they'd feared something serious had occurred at home.

Lie Xian couldn’t decipher his grandmother’s motives either. Recalling the box of soul-summoning incense, he speculated, “Perhaps it’s because of the girl’s identity? She must have some ties to our witch tribe.”

“But she looks like an ordinary human. Even if she knows something, why bother with all this?”

“She said she’d travel with us, didn’t she? Once she meets Grandmother, the truth may come out.”

After the brothers left, A Chan remained staring at the bone letter, lost in thought. Chen Hui, seeing this, did not disturb her.

After the incident with the Consort of the Northern Wilderness King, Chen Hui had largely figured out much about A Chan’s origins.

She knew A Chan was hiding many secrets but had no wish to intrude. If A Chan had lived happily before, she wouldn’t have come alone to the capital to become Ji Chan.

In the days following the brothers’ visit, A Chan had restless nights.

Every night, she dreamed—sometimes of two featureless figures pointing at her, ordering her to leave and never appear before them again.

Other times, they simply watched her from afar, silent.

With the Shangsi Festival approaching, A Chan’s spirits sank lower.

Chen Hui suggested having her see a doctor, but A Chan refused.

Medicine would let her sleep without dreams through the night, but she didn’t want that.

It had been so long since she’d seen her parents—even if the figures in her dreams were just products of her mind, without even faces.

But seeing them in her dreams made them seem near, if only for a moment.

Unable to persuade A Chan, Chen Hui didn’t give up.

After much thought, she made a detour to the Bright Mirror Bureau while out buying groceries.

Returning so soon made her nervous. Last time, at least, she’d had legitimate business—this time, it was purely personal. She wasn’t sure if Lord Bai would care.

Yet once again, she gained entry without trouble.

“Lord Bai.”

“What’s happened now?” He didn’t look up.

After a pause, Chen Hui spoke. “A Chan hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days.”

Bai Xiuming lifted his gaze.

“She seems downhearted too.”

His brow furrowed, his focus completely shifting from the case files. It was hard to imagine what could trouble A Chan so.

“If you’re not too busy, would you visit her?” Chen Hui made her plea.

“…Thank you.”

It took Chen Hui a moment to realize Bai Xiuming was thanking her.

That night, A Chan drifted off as usual and dreamed of her parents once more. This time, she heard her mother say, “I never should have given birth to you.”

A Chan had always known her mother hadn’t wanted her or A Mian.

Her dreams were just repetitions—scraps of that short time she’d spent with her parents, memories she had revisited endlessly.

In the past, each recollection would leave her devastated for days.

Now, though the pain wasn’t as sharp, the void persisted.

Just as she was about to slip back into the dream once more, she suddenly heard someone calling her name.

"A Chan."

It was a voice that didn't belong to her parents. When it sounded, she felt her heartbeat quicken, and her lips curled into a smile without thinking.

Her mother's voice seemed completely drowned out by this call of "A Chan."

"Bai Xiuming..." A Chan whispered the name and woke from the nightmare.