The Chong Family's Bounty

Jiang Feng was not particularly courteous with them, but Ping Luanshan and the others understood well that things were not as simple as he claimed. Among thousands, only one might become a treasure craftsman, and every cultivation-grade treasure was a coveted artifact. The auxiliary wood armor, though unable to aid in combat, could accelerate their cultivation speed, making it even more practical than ordinary treasures. Not to mention, having armor tailored to fit, crafted with time, effort, and care, would be perfectly suited to oneself. The group said no more, but they etched Jiang Feng’s kindness deeply into their hearts.

Jiang Feng himself was unconcerned. To his mind, the warehouse of materials from Hua Su was enough to offset the price of several cultivation-grade treasures, and perhaps even exceeded it. Hua Su valued these apprentices highly, and helping them achieve better results in the grand examination was the best repayment. With the assistance of the Celestial Cube, data collection and adjustments became much easier, and as Jiang Feng’s skills grew ever more adept, he finished the second wood armor two days later, then maintained a pace of one piece every day and a half. Wang Erhu volunteered that he didn’t need one for now, so after five days, Ping Luanshan and the others were all equipped with auxiliary wood armor.

They felt a clear difference: once donned, their bodies grew warm and the surge of inner energy increased markedly. Jiang Feng noticed that, although he had crafted three new pieces, the Treasure Atlas only showed the first one’s illustration. This meant the Atlas only recognized distinct types of treasures; repeated crafting of the same item would not allow advancement.

Jiang Feng possessed exceptional talent, diligence, reason, and loyalty. The more Hua Su spent time with him, the more satisfied he became with this disciple. So, when Jiang Feng came to him one day, expressing his intention to head to Taicang City ahead of time, Hua Su pondered briefly, then waved his hand: “In that case, with only half a month left, let’s go together! It’ll do us good to acclimate to the atmosphere of the examination hall beforehand!”

Hua Su was decisive and acted swiftly; having made his decision, he summoned a carriage the same day, left Wang Erhu at home to watch over things, and took the rest along with some belongings toward Taicang City.

Taicang City stood beside the Changchuan River, not far downstream from Hezhong County. Hua Su brought them to the riverbank, changed to a boat for the upstream journey, and a day later, they caught sight of the bustling city.

Jiang Feng breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the city walls. He had cut the timing too close and nearly forgot to account for travel—after all, not every journey was made in the luxury of the carriage Autumn Leaf had brought him in. For ordinary folk, traveling by boat or carriage truly took ages!

A thought struck him, and he flipped open the copy of the Treasure Atlas left by Fang Liuxian, his gaze settling on a light boat therein. This vessel measured only seven feet long and two feet wide, just enough for one person to stand. It was named “One Leaf”—a cultivation-grade treasure that could ride the wind, crossing a thousand miles in a day! If he could craft it, his movements would become far more agile.

Despite his unkempt appearance, Hua Su was extraordinarily meticulous. Using unknown means, he had prepared lodgings in Taicang City ahead of time, so upon arrival, they could settle in directly. Their new residence was in the quiet, secluded eastern part of the city, spacious and complete with an independent martial training field—perfect for their needs.

Jiang Feng set down his few belongings, greeted Hua Su, and went out. Before he left, Hua Su cautioned, “This is not the countryside—things are chaotic here. Be careful in all matters.” Then he chuckled, “You’re always steady; I’m sure there’ll be no trouble.”

It was now the afternoon of June twenty-first, exactly half a month before the provincial examination on July seventh. In other words, Jiang Feng had to go to the Mustard Seed Pavilion today to handle the procedures, so that in half a month’s time, he could obtain “that item.”

Taicang City was truly worthy of being the provincial capital of Yushui Province—it was the largest city Jiang Feng had ever seen.

It spanned the Changchuan River, connected by bridges, with most buildings made of wood. Black-scaled tiles shimmered gold under the sun, displaying the unique prosperity of a great city and the elegant charm particular to riverside towns.

The Mustard Seed Pavilion was situated on the southern edge of the city, by the river, surrounded by a cluster of shops, most related to martial cultivation. The examination site for their provincial test was also nearby. One could say that this part of the city, centered around the Mustard Seed Pavilion, formed a martial cultivator’s district: Treasure Crafting Association, materials shops, custom and retail treasure stores, martial halls, training grounds—everything a cultivator might need could be found here.

Jiang Feng was dazzled by the sights, but mindful of time, he inquired for directions and headed straight for the Pavilion.

The Mustard Seed Pavilion was a large four-story wooden building, the most prominent structure in the area. As Jiang Feng approached the entrance, a sudden scent of blood assaulted his senses. He instinctively looked up and was instantly shocked.

Beneath the signboard and above the lintel hung a freshly severed head!

The head was larger than a human’s, crowned with two black horns and protruding fangs snarling from its lips. Though dead, its eyes bulged from their sockets, filled with a murderous aura.

Jiang Feng had never seen the demonic race before, yet at that moment, the words “demonic race” sprang to mind.

The Mustard Seed Pavilion served as a bank, a depository, and an auction house, each function purely commercial. Why did such a place hang a demonic head at its entrance—especially one so fresh, clearly killed not long ago?

Before the two-meter-high gate, besides Jiang Feng, many others gathered. Several pointed at the head, discussing it. Jiang Feng didn’t need to crowd in; their voices reached him clearly.

“See that? That’s the grandeur of the Chong family!”

“Indeed, the Chong family is the true representative of our people. That’s how one ought to treat the demonic race!”

There were also newcomers like Jiang Feng, unfamiliar and curious. “Sirs, I’m new here and don’t quite understand. What’s the story with that demonic head? Why hang it here?”

At that, the locals became excited and began explaining enthusiastically, “This is one of Taicang City’s great sights and a major merit of the Chong family!”

The matter was simple: a long-standing policy of the Mustard Seed Pavilion. The Pavilion offered unlimited, indefinite bounties for demonic heads. Anyone who obtained one could claim a reward. The bounty varied according to the demon’s grade and location, but never disappointed.

The heads claimed for bounty would be hung at the Pavilion’s entrance for three days as a warning.

One man pointed up, “That’s a warrior-tier demon. Who knows what benefits the cultivator who brought it in received!”

The young man scoffed, “Just a show to win over public sentiment.”

Hearing this, all the locals’ faces darkened. An old man shot him a cold look, sneering, “A show? Winning people’s hearts? If you have the means, put up your own money—keep it going for a thousand years!”

The policy had been enforced since the Pavilion’s founding over twelve hundred years ago. In that time, tens of thousands of demonic heads had been collected, with untold sums paid out. Even if it were for winning hearts, such persistence would suffice to win enough hearts!

Moreover, everyone who knew whose family ran the Pavilion understood the deep, bloody feud between the Chong family and the demonic race. The Pavilion’s policy was but the most superficial expression of that enmity.

The young man’s careless remark soured the mood, and all the locals looked at him with disgust, wishing him far away. Embarrassed, he slunk to the street, hoping to ask the fruit vendor for information, but before he could speak, the vendor waved him off like shooing a fly, “Go, go, I won’t sell to your kind!”

Jiang Feng watched with astonishment. Until he came here, he had no idea the Chong family commanded such respect among ordinary folk. Small wonder; the demonic race was humanity’s greatest enemy, and the Chong family's actions were a statement: We bear a blood feud with the demonic race, and we are willing to be the first line of defense!

Jiang Feng smiled faintly and stepped through the Pavilion’s doors, greeted by a screen.

The screen stood about ten feet tall and forty feet wide, with currents of energy flowing across it—it was a county-grade treasure.

Having studied Fang Liuxian’s Treasure Atlas copy, Jiang Feng had learned a bit about energy structures. He could tell that this county-grade treasure’s sole function was display. When you gazed at it, mountains, rivers, beasts, and all creation swept before you, as if you journeyed through a thousand landscapes and witnessed the wonders of the world in an instant.

Jiang Feng stood before the screen, utterly absorbed.

At the Pavilion’s entrance, several uniformed attendants moved about, all well-trained—polite and never disturbing guests unnecessarily. Seeing Jiang Feng admiring their treasure screen, they exchanged smiles, and one said, “I’ll go.”

He was about to approach when a middle-aged man in steward’s attire hurried out, calling, “You two, come inside with me…”

He was about to continue when he noticed Jiang Feng, and a look of puzzlement crossed his face.

An attendant asked, “Manager, what’s wrong? Is there an issue with this young man?”

The manager pondered, “This young man looks familiar, as if I’ve seen him somewhere…” He thought for a good while, then slapped his thigh and exclaimed, “Of course—it’s him! Orders came down from above: whenever this young man appears, the Pavilion Master must personally receive him!”

“The Pavilion Master personally receive him?”

The attendants were shocked, repeating the question in unison.

The Mustard Seed Pavilion was only found in major cities across the Nine Heavens continent; the Pavilion Master, besides managing the Pavilion itself, oversaw all Chong family business in the region—a figure of considerable authority. The Pavilion Master was equal in status to the provincial governor. And yet, this youth warranted the Pavilion Master’s personal reception?

The attendants asked, “Who exactly is this young man?”

The manager had no time to explain and hurried inside.

Jiang Feng, immersed in the images on the screen, heard none of their conversation.

Just then, a voice called out his name, “Jiang Feng!”

Jiang Feng started, returning to himself. He looked at the person walking in behind him, his smile fading, and called out, “Jiang Huaiming.”