Cultivation Master in the City

Chapter 2 The Mysterious Taoist Priest

In a deserted alley in downtown Shang City, a middle-aged Taoist priest suddenly appeared, dressed in tattered robes with a small white monkey perched on his shoulder. If not for the bottle of Moutai liquor he occasionally sipped and the mischievous monkey on his shoulder, he might have truly exuded an air of transcendent elegance. Instead, he looked like nothing more than a drunken monkey-taming charlatan.

The priest drained the last drop of liquor, tilting the bottle upside down over his mouth until the final trickle slid out. With a reluctant sigh, he lowered the empty bottle.

His face twisted in disappointment as he stared at the bottle before flipping his hand—causing it to vanish into thin air. l*****g his lips, he muttered to himself, "Those so-called 'special teams' are such a nuisance. Can't even drink in peace. So what if I nearly got hit by that… what do they call it? A plane? I didn’t even demand an explanation from them, and yet they dare bother me? If not for the sect’s rule against using magic on mortals, I’d show them exactly why flowers bloom so red."

Suddenly, his expression darkened with anger. "And that damn orthodox Taoist from the Zhengyi Sect—he’s the real problem! Kept tailing me like a shadow, forcing me to descend to the Lower Realm in such a hurry that I ended up mid-air. Not that it did him any good—I still shook him off. Thinks I didn’t notice him following me? Hmph. I’ll settle the score with him later. Tch. Now I’ve got to find another place to stay. More liquor… gotta drink my fill while I can. Once I return, there won’t be any left. If only this mortal realm had even a trace of Spiritual Qi, I wouldn’t have to go back at all."

Muttering curses under his breath, the priest failed to notice his own hypocrisy in insulting the "damn orthodox Taoist"—after all, he was one himself. With just two or three steps, the ground beneath him seemed to shrink, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished without a trace.

Meanwhile, in a VIP room of a high-end restaurant in Shang City, several men in black suits—all with closely cropped hair and an air of cold detachment—stared at each other in silence.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, a middle-aged man with a long scar running from his left ear to the corner of his lips forced a bitter smile and spoke into the mic on his collar. "Calling Special Unit 10. Report status."

"Special Unit 10 responding. All clear, over," came the reply from an operative stationed outside the restaurant.

One by one, reports from the perimeter confirmed what they already suspected—their target had once again disappeared without a trace.

Just then, there was a noise at the door. Before the startled server could react, the operative nearest to the entrance had him pinned to the ground in less than a second. The rest of the team moved in unison, hands hovering near their waists.

"Let him go! All of you, stand down!" The scarred captain massaged his temples in exasperation. He knew his team was losing composure because of this elusive target—but he couldn’t entirely blame them. At this point, even he was starting to question whether their quarry was even human.

After reprimanding his men, the captain helped the pale-faced server up, offering repeated apologies. "Sorry about that. They’ve had a bit too much to drink—acting rowdy."

The bewildered server eyed the room full of unfriendly young men and nervously whispered, "Um… the manager sent me to ask if you could settle the bill. It’s been… three days."

The captain glanced at the staggering total at the bottom of the receipt. His eye twitched. Through gritted teeth, he managed, "Ah… just leave the bill here. We’ll take care of it later."

"Alright… I’ll come back in a bit." The server retreated backward before bolting out the door. Faintly, the captain thought he heard the man yelling for security.

Face darkening, the captain decisively issued the retreat order into his mic. Moments later, the entire team exited smoothly through the window with practiced efficiency.

In a secluded underground parking garage, the scarred captain and two younger operatives spoke in hushed tones.

Suddenly, the captain slammed his fist against the car door in frustration. "Goddammit! Never thought I’d use our training to skip out on a bill!"

The car’s alarm blared violently from the impact.

A bespectacled operative—lean and bookish—silenced the alarm. Though equally irritated, his expression was more resigned. Adjusting his glasses, he said dryly, "Our entire month’s salary just went toward that guy’s dining expenses. No idea if we’ll even get reimbursed. This time, the bill’s so high we couldn’t cover it even if we pooled all our money. We had to run."

The third operative—a hulking man with bulging muscles barely contained by his custom-sized uniform—hesitated before finally speaking up. "Captain… it’s been two weeks. We haven’t even seen the target’s face. Is he… even human?"

The captain turned and stared at the "Beast" operative for several seconds, until the latter lowered his head in discomfort. With a sigh, the captain muttered, "Tch. I knew from the start he wasn’t normal. What kind of person just appears at that altitude? But what choice do we have? HQ insists he’s using some cutting-edge solo flight tech and wants us to confiscate it. As if any foreign power would test experimental gear by popping up in front of a passenger jet! If they wanted reconnaissance, they’d target classified sites, not commercial flights. Whatever. Pack it up."

Pausing, he turned to the bespectacled operative. "Xie, draft a report on this operation and submit it. We’ll await further orders."

"Understood, Captain," Xie replied crisply.

Meanwhile, the Taoist priest responsible for all this remained blissfully unaware. Atop a high-rise building, he gazed into the distance, fingers nimbly performing calculations. His brow furrowed deeper with each passing moment.

"Something feels off… The Heavenly Divination Art is too disrupted in the mortal world. I can’t even unleash my full Cultivation to perform a proper reading."

After a futile incense stick’s worth of time, he finally gave up. "Whatever. As long as I don’t go looking for trouble, nothing in this world can harm me. Still, plans need adjusting. Little Bai, let’s finish the mission first, then investigate. If we still find nothing… we’ll have to return." Stroking the small white monkey’s head, he seemed to speak both to it and himself. With a chittering response from the monkey, the priest vanished once more into thin air.

---

He Xu’s school was an industrial college—a place notorious for its skewed gender ratio, with male students vastly outnumbering females. As a result, the "starved wolves" of Shang Industrial University often extended their predatory reach to female students of neighboring campuses.

The surrounding universities held a deep disdain for Shang Industrial’s male students, while the girls grew increasingly exasperated by their relentless advances. Worse still, some of Shang Industrial’s students took pride in this behavior, cementing the university’s infamy across the entire college district.

He Xu’s initial excitement about university life had evaporated after his last episode of illness. In low spirits, he decided to leave campus and wander aimlessly to clear his mind.

With no particular destination in mind, he rented a bicycle and set off down a random road.

Shang City’s university district was built on an oval-shaped island, encircled by three concentric ring roads: the Inner, Middle, and Outer Rings.

Unlike traditional campuses, the schools here lacked clear boundaries. Buildings from different institutions intermingled, and even the main gates were purely symbolic, serving no practical purpose. As a result, He Xu soon found himself hopelessly lost. By 7:30 p.m., he was still pedaling along the Inner Ring, unable to locate his own school.

Realizing his efforts were futile, He Xu gave up and veered into the dormitory area of an unfamiliar campus. Unlike the quiet Inner Ring, this area buzzed with activity—and the more balanced gender ratio immediately told him this wasn’t Shang Industrial.

Approaching a fair-skinned girl with a small ponytail—dressed in white shorts and a tank top—resting by the roadside, He Xu asked politely, "Excuse me, could you tell me where this is? How do I get back to Shang Industrial University?"

The girl eyed him up and down. He Xu wore Shang Industrial’s uniform: faded jeans and clean but obviously bargain-bin sneakers.

"Country bumpkin," she mentally labeled him, her interest instantly waning. "Shang Industrial?" she asked dismissively.

Though puzzled by her tone, He Xu nodded honestly. "Yes, I’m a freshman. Got lost. Could you point me in the right direction?"

After a few seconds of scrutinizing him—as if checking for signs of deception—she finally answered with a strange expression. "This is Shang University of Finance and Economics. It’s right next to your school. Go down this road, turn left, and after 100 meters, you’ll see a fire station. Turn in there."

"Thanks." He Xu found her behavior odd but, grateful for the directions, turned to leave without another thought.

Watching him walk away, the girl muttered under her breath, "Didn’t even ask for my number… Maybe he was just asking for directions. Not bad-looking, but still a bumpkin. Can’t even find his way this close by."

Unfortunately, most women had a poor sense of direction—and this girl was no exception.

After turning left and searching in vain for the nonexistent fire station, He Xu had no choice but to retrace his steps. Finding the ponytailed girl still there, he approached her again.

"Hmph. A toad lusting after swan flesh? Let’s see how you handle this, country boy." Seeing him return, she instantly "understood" his "play hard-to-get" tactic.

After He Xu explained he couldn’t find the fire station, her suspicions "confirmed," she curled her lip in disdain. "Listen, Junior Brother…" she began, lacing her words with sarcasm. "Know your place. Try looking in a mirror sometime. This little game of yours? I’ve seen it since three years ago. Not just anyone can pull it off."

Baffled by her hostility, He Xu stiffened. "Senior Sister, I don’t understand what you’re saying, but there really isn’t a fire station over there—"

"Stop bothering me. I don’t have time for flies like you." She cut him off with a dismissive flick of her wrist, not even deigning to look at him directly.

His expression darkened. "You— what’s your problem?" he muttered under his breath, turning to leave with his bicycle.

"Hey! Who are you calling crazy? Apologize!" Incensed, she grabbed the back of his bike like a shrew, refusing to let him go.

"Let. Go." He Xu’s voice turned icy.

Their argument quickly drew curious onlookers from nearby food stalls.