Chapter 424.1: Life Isn't Easy - Part 1

Chapter 424.1: Life Isn't Easy - Part 1

A group of people entered the small town in the darkness of night. There were men and women of different heights and builds. The first person to step into the town was a short and chubby man. With a round face and large ears, he had a somewhat compassionate smile, resembling the so-called Maitreya Buddha. In fact, this chubby man was indeed nicknamed South Mountain Maitreya and was a well-known itinerant cultivator in the Yellow Dragon Prefecture.

It was said that he was once a disciple of a buddhist sect and cultivated in a temple that was not small. However, because he failed to adhere to the rules and precepts, he was soon expelled from the temple and became an itinerant cultivator.

After South Mountain Maitreya entered the town, two more figures appeared in the night.

Following behind him was a couple, the man tall and thin, carrying a long sword on his back, dressed in a gray linen robe. The woman looked rather attractive and had a slender figure. Especially her chest area, it was very alluring. It would not be overboard to say that it was magnificent.

She also had a long sword at her waist.

The man was called Xu Bai, and the woman was called Jiang Ying, both renowned itinerant cultivators in the Yellow Dragon Prefecture.

Not many people knew the origin of this sword cultivator couple, people just knew that they were inseparable and had a very close relationship.

Following these three individuals was a group of three cultivators dressed similarly, with similar appearances too, their faces expressionless as they headed towards the inn.

The last to enter the town was a daoist priest wearing a shabby daoist robe, covered in oil stains, and a head full of messy hair. He held a gourd of wine, drinking as he walked towards the inn.

South Mountain Maitreya was the first to enter the inn, smiling at the middle-aged innkeeper behind the counter and said, "I'd like a room."

The middle-aged innkeeper looked at the chubby man with a compassionate face and said awkwardly, "I'm afraid the inn is already full. There might not be any rooms available for you."

South Mountain Maitreya smiled faintly at that and said nonchalantly, "No problem."

With that, he walked alone towards the second floor, pausing in front of a room for a moment. Then, he knocked on the door gently. As the door opened, South Mountain Maitreya smiled at the middle-aged man before him and said, "I'd like to ask Fellow Daoist to vacate your room for me."

The middle-aged man who was also a cultivator frowned. "Why should I?"

South Mountain Maitreya did not say much, just smiled and reached out, grabbing the middle-aged man's collar. With a swift motion, he threw the man down to the lobby on the first floor. At the same time, while the cultivator was still in mid-air, South Mountain Maitreya extended his palm with a smile, and a huge golden hand appeared out of thin air, imprinting itself onto the suspended cultivator's body. Before the cultivator could even land, his body was shattered by this palm, turning into a mist of blood that drifted towards the entrance of the inn.

South Mountain Maitreya put his hands together in a praying stance and looked at the innkeeper, who was already scared silly, smiling as he said, "Please clean up the room for me. This destitute monk wishes to stay."

Perhaps having seen his fair share of storms, the innkeeper quickly regained his composure. He kicked the similarly shocked waiter and scolded, "Why aren't you going to tidy up the room for the master!"

The waiter snapped out of his daze and went up to the second floor, trembling with fear and trepidation. Such a scene, even after so many years in the inn, was a first for him.

In the Great Liang Dynasty, the lives of the common people were not that valuable, and the lives of these cultivators were not much more valuable, especially for itinerant cultivators without strong backgrounds. When traveling the world, whether they could live long depended on whether they had the ability. Even if they behaved properly, there was no guarantee of a peaceful life.

The innkeeper nodded hastily and threw the gourd to one of the assistants.

The scruffy Taoist slowly walked up to the second floor. Looking at South Mountain Maitreya who had been waiting for him, he said with some disdain. "It's you again, monk."

South Mountain Maitreya smiled and said, "Meeting again is fate. This destitute monk sees that Fellow Daoist is fated with this destitute monk. Why don't this destitute monk help Fellow Daoist become a monk?"

The scruffy daoist raised an eyebrow. "If you want to die, just say it outright. There's no need for this cryptic talk."

South Mountain Maitreya just smiled in response.

The scruffy daoist and South Mountain Maitreya each entered their respective rooms. The innkeeper, who had thought there would be a major conflict tonight, breathed a sigh of relief.

He did not mind fighting or killing. Either way, it would not cause trouble for him personally. The only thing he was scared of was damage to the furniture and his vats of alcohol in the inn. That would be a double loss.

Tonight, no conflict erupted among the guests for the time being, which was a relief in itself.

However, soon enough, the musing innkeeper was roused by one of his assistants.

The assistant had a distressed expression while currently filling the gourd from a wine vat when he suddenly looked up at the innkeeper. "Boss, there's a demon in this gourd! Most of the vat has been poured in, but it's still not full!"

The innkeeper turned around, his expression also somewhat unnatural. However, he knew a thing or two about these matters. He knew that this was a so-called magic artifact. Even though it pained him, he gritted his teeth and said, "Keep pouring until it's full."

He knew he would not be able to get any money for the alcohol. However, provoking that mysterious scruffy daoist was definitely not a good choice. He had no choice but to bite the bullet and attend to him diligently.

"After filling it up, have the kitchen slaughter a lamb and send several lamb legs to those immortal masters!"

After saying this, the innkeeper sighed. Even if he was full of unwillingness, there was nothing he could do. Such was life, what could he do?

Saving his own life or earning money, there would not be anyone who would foolishly choose the latter, right?

The assistant was sweating profusely as he continued to kneel by the wine vat. But before he could fill it completely, the scruffy daoist emerged from his room upstairs and entered the lobby. The innkeeper immediately perked up and greeted him with a fawning smile. "Immortal Master, the gourd isn't full yet. You'll have to wait a bit longer."

The scruffy daoist glanced at him and then with a thought, the gourd flew from the assistant's hand into the scruffy daoist's palm.

Taking a sniff of the wine fragrance inside, the scruffy daoist seemed somewhat dissatisfied. "It'll do."

He then took a sip and staggered out of the inn, his destination unknown.

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