“I heard that Shang Can has come to Yan Yang.”
It was just past noon, and the teahouse was bustling with people coming and going. Even those who usually paid no attention to worldly affairs couldn’t help but react when they heard this, turning their attention to the old storyteller.
“Shang Can? The demonic cultivator who can command heavenly fire?”
“Who else could it be!”
In an instant, the teahouse erupted in chatter. Many people looked uneasy, and some more cautious individuals expressed doubt: “You can’t go spreading rumors like that. Isn’t Shang Can supposed to be staying in the Biluohuangquan, the land of the demon clans? Why would she come to Yan Yang at a time like this?”
“Yes, exactly!” The words “a time like this” struck a chord, and more people chimed in, “Coming to Yan Yang now would be like walking into a trap!”
“In less than ten days, the Celestial Sect will hold a Dao Debate Conference in Yan Yang, with all the righteous cultivators gathering here. Why would Shang Can dare to show up now?”
Before the fearful atmosphere could settle, the old storyteller shook his head solemnly and said seriously, “This isn’t just some baseless rumor. Yesterday, someone saw Shang Can with their own eyes in the outskirts of Yan Yang. The news is bound to spread through the city soon.”
“Wearing a white jade mask, commanding fire that never extinguishes,” he stroked his beard and sighed, “It could be no one else but Shang Can.”
The teahouse fell silent for a moment, before a buzz of murmurs broke out again. The conversations were mostly about things like, “She must be here for the Dao Lotus Seed, the prize for the champion of the Dao Debate Conference,” and “It’s about time. After so many years, the righteous cultivators haven’t been able to catch her, but this is a great opportunity.” Among the noise, someone muttered, “Shang Can… is she male or female? Is she good-looking?”
A wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. Even the storyteller couldn’t help but chuckle as he cleared his throat and resumed his tale.
“Ah, dear guest, you may not know this, but Shang Can is shrouded in mystery. Forget about her looks; no one even knows her real name.”
“Every time she’s appeared, she’s worn a white jade mask, and no one has ever glimpsed her true face. Many who tried to have ended up as nothing more than ashes, burned by her heavenly fire.”
“But based on the accounts of those who’ve crossed paths with her, it’s certain that Shang Can is a woman.”
“Seven years ago, there was a civil war among the demon clans of Biluohuangquan. Shang Can appeared out of nowhere and, with swift and brutal means, helped the demon lord Wan Shao suppress the rebellion. Streams of fiery meteors fell from the sky, making the battle look more like a fireworks display than a war. Yet in just one night, the rebels were completely annihilated. The heavenly fire burned for three days and nights without extinguishing, lighting up the dark Biluohuangquan.”
“Those who saw her summon the heavenly fire said that though she is a demonic cultivator, her dazzling presence was unparalleled. She truly lived up to the saying, ‘What a night to witness this unmatched Shang Can—'”
“Old sir.”
Before the storyteller could finish, someone interrupted him. Feeling slightly irritated, he looked over and saw a woman leisurely walking toward him. She placed a silver ingot on the table and gently pushed it in front of him.
“Why tell such boring stories?” The woman’s voice trailed off lazily, exuding a carefree attitude. “The weather is so lovely today, how about telling something… less depressing?”
The storyteller was inwardly startled by the weight of the silver and quickly realized that anyone who appeared in Yan Yang right before the Dao Debate Conference could easily be a high-ranking cultivator. He discreetly sized her up but found her appearance quite ordinary.
The woman wore a pale white robe, with a plain pouch hanging at her waist. Her clothing was just barely refined, but her face was quite forgettable—one that wouldn’t leave an impression in a crowd.
But her eyes were extraordinarily clear and bright, so striking that they seemed out of place with her otherwise unremarkable appearance.
With these thoughts running through his mind, the storyteller decided not to offend her. Smiling, he accepted the silver, his eyes briefly glancing at the woman’s hand as she withdrew it. Her hands were slender but not delicate, balanced in proportion, pale, and long.
They were surely hands made for wielding a sword.
Having made his judgment, he thanked her with a bow and immediately changed the subject, raising his voice.
“On such a fine day, I shouldn’t be speaking of demonic cultivators and ruining everyone’s appetite.”
“Since the sky is clear and the clouds are high, let’s talk about a certain rising star among the cultivators in recent years—the top disciple of Jade Measure Peak from the Celestial Mountain Qingyu, known for wielding the carefree sword…”
Shang Can’s fearsome reputation was not something the common people in a teahouse could handle. The storyteller had only brought up the topic to draw attention. Now that someone had generously paid to change the subject, he naturally complied.
The crowd, still somewhat uneasy, quickly shifted their attention to the new topic, especially considering that many cultivators were gathering in Yan Yang for the Dao Debate Conference, and the renowned Celestial Sect Tianwaitian was overseeing everything. The earlier fears were soon forgotten as they eagerly listened to the storyteller’s new tale.
The storyteller, experienced as he was, soon had his audience fully engrossed again. But as he reached a climactic moment, he noticed that the woman who had interrupted earlier was no longer there. She had quietly left the teahouse.
Why pay for a story and then leave halfway through? he wondered to himself, marveling at how difficult it was to understand the minds of cultivators, before shrugging it off and continuing his performance.
The woman walked briskly through the bustling streets of Yan Yang, bored as she wandered in circles. Eventually, she bought a bag of sugar cakes and, munching on them as she went, made her way to an inn. Without hesitation, she headed straight to the best room and pushed open the door with great flair, shouting dramatically.
“Something terrible has happened! They say someone saw Shang Can outside Yan Yang yesterday!”
“?! What’s wrong with you, shouting like that—what?!”
Inside, a stunning woman was lounging flirtatiously on the bed, reading a book with a smile on her face. Startled by the outburst, she jerked upright, the book slipping from her hand. She looked confused, her beautiful face turning toward the door in a daze.
“I said, someone saw—”
“Could you keep your voice down?!”
Clearly rattled by the shouting, the woman gritted her teeth, climbed out of bed, and dragged the other woman inside, shutting the door carefully after checking the surroundings. Only then did she turn to look at the intruder, who had already made herself comfortable at the table, sipping tea.
“…Someone saw Shang Can? Yesterday?”
“Yup.” The woman mumbled around a mouthful of sugar cake, then shifted to a comically dramatic tone, mimicking the storyteller’s voice. “Wearing a white jade mask, commanding fire that never goes out—honest to goodness, guaranteed or your money back.”
The woman standing by the door narrowed her eyes dangerously, her bright, seductive face darkening. She strode forward and snatched the pouch from the other’s waist. Shaking it open, a surprising number of items tumbled out onto the table with a clatter.
Ignoring the rest, she picked up one object and thrust it toward the other woman, furious.
“Did you sneak off to the outskirts yesterday?”
“We were both at Biluohuangquan yesterday, packing things up. We only just arrived in Yan Yang today. Use your brain, Wan Shao.”
“Oh.” Wan Shao blinked in realization, then immediately flared up again. “Then when did you slip away? Shang Can, you move that fast now?!”
“…”
Shang Can gave her a pitying look and sighed.
“Honestly, Wan Shao, I think if you went to each sect yourself and had a chat with everyone, they’d all come to realize what Biluohuangquan is really like.”
With that, she deftly snatched the white jade mask that Wan Shao had been holding up, along with the items on the table, and stuffed them back into her pouch, speaking candidly.
“I wasn’t even in Yan Yang yesterday. No idea who they saw.”
“If I could sneak back and forth between Biluohuangquan and Yan Yang overnight without a trace, why would I bother going through all this trouble of faking an identity just to participate in the Tianwaitian Dao Conference?”
The infamous demonic cultivator known as Shan Can, who had struck fear into the patrons of the tavern earlier, and the demon lord of Biluohuangquan, Wan Shao, exchanged glances, both frowning.
“…You’re right.” Wan Shao finally understood what was going on, nodding in agreement. “If you had that ability, you could just sneak into Tianwaitian and steal the Dao Lotus Seed yourself. But why would someone be impersonating you now? If those cultivators kill the impersonator, they better not try to blame us.”
“That’s your takeaway from all this? You really are the demon lord of Biluohuangquan.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Yes.”
Ignoring Wan Shao’s look, which suggested she was ready to strangle her, Shan Can glanced outside the window, falling silent for a moment.
The two of them had just arrived in Yan Yang today, and before they could even sit down for a meal, they’d heard that someone had been impersonating her the day before… Shan Can furrowed her brow, feeling that it was unlikely to be mere coincidence.
Still, with the Dao Conference on the horizon, and her long-awaited opportunity to claim the Dao Lotus Seed at hand, she didn’t want to risk messing things up by investigating this impersonator. After all, this was a matter of life and death for her.
She decided to wait. If the person pretending to be her was only acting on a whim, she’d be glad to ignore it.
Maybe it was just someone who thought the name “Shan Can” sounded glamorous?
Shan Can tilted her head. There had been plenty of people in her previous world who liked role-playing. She remembered it was especially common among younger students. What was it they called it again…? Ah, chuunibyou, wasn’t it?
“Can you take that stupid fake face off? It’s annoying me.”
Just as Shan Can’s mind was wandering, she heard Wan Shao make a completely unrelated request. She paused, confused.
“Why?” Shan Can gave her a sidelong glance and reached into the pouch for another sugar cake. “I like this face. No one notices me when I wear it.”
“Alright, alright, just take it off. Let me draw on you a bit. Your eyes right now look like they don’t even belong to you.”
Wan Shao rudely snatched the bag of sugar cakes into her arms and impatiently urged Shan Can. Reluctantly, Shan Can slowly reached under her chin, lifting the mask off her face. The light, delicate mask came free, and she winced slightly in pain.
“Here.” Shan Can rubbed her face and handed the mask to Wan Shao, then pointed at the bag of sugar cakes in her arms, holding out her hand. “I wasn’t finished with those.”
“I am.” Wan Shao hurriedly stuffed the last few bites into her mouth, choking slightly in the process. She tossed the now-empty bag back to Shan Can and poured herself a cup of tea, laughing at her all the while. “Didn’t you go out earlier to find food at the tavern? Why’d you come back with only a bag of sugar cakes? Yan Yang’s chefs don’t suit your taste?”
Shan Can shot her a lazy glance, her gaze lingering on the cup of tea for a moment, and lightly moved her fingers. Suddenly, Wan Shao cried out as she burned her tongue.
“Hot!”
“Shan Can! How childish can you be?”
Muttering angrily about how it was only a few sugar cakes, Wan Shao set down the cup, which had somehow gotten scalding hot. She took the mask from Shan Can and glared at her, planning how to adjust the mask so it would look less conspicuous, all the while grumbling.
“I swear, having eyes that pretty can be a pain. You can’t even wear a half-mask like a normal person, it has to be one that covers your whole face like when you’re pretending to be Shan Can. Otherwise, it’s always obvious something’s off.”
Despite her complaints, Wan Shao wasn’t stingy with compliments when it came to Shan Can’s looks. However, after half a moment of praise, she noticed Shan Can wasn’t responding gratefully, which left her feeling rather dissatisfied. She scowled and looked over at her friend, only to find that the pair of eyes she had been praising weren’t paying her any attention.
Shan Can’s usual bright, clear eyes were now veiled, her eyelids drooping lazily. Her slightly upturned eyes gave off an air of casual seduction, and the long lashes that fluttered lightly added a hint of languid charm.
Shan Can had a refined and graceful face, with porcelain-like skin. Her features were elegant and serene—until you looked into her eyes.
Her eyes were the only thing about her that screamed “demonic cultivator”—flirty, mischievous, and dangerously alluring. They made anyone she glanced at feel like they were the center of her world.
“You’ve clearly never seen eyes that are even prettier than mine.”
Shan Can spoke lightly, as if making a passing comment, though it was unclear why she was suddenly being modest. Wan Shao snorted and continued her scowl, still staring at the mask, contemplating how to make it less jarring.
“When you left earlier, you were already wearing that white jade mask. No one knows what you look like under it. If it weren’t for Qingyu also sending people to the Dao Conference—”
—Shan Can wouldn’t need to wear yet another layer of disguise.
That was what Wan Shao had been thinking, though she didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she quickly changed the topic.
“Oh well, better safe than sorry.”
She waved the mask in the air and jokingly suggested that Shan Can pretend to be blind instead, to which Shan Can lazily replied that in that case, Wan Shao should pretend to be mute. In truth, Shan Can’s thoughts had already started spiraling out of control the moment Wan Shao mentioned “Qingyu.”
The Dao Conference only allowed participants under fifty years of age, which was the cut-off point for young cultivators. It was a martial contest between different sects meant to foster talent.
And there was one person in Qingyu who was perfect for this. Extremely young, already widely renowned, and immensely powerful. If she participated, there was little doubt she would claim the top spot.
But she hated crowded places.
Back in the day, whenever there was an event at Qingyu with too many people, she would always frown. Shan Can would sneak her away, and they would either pick fruits on Yaoguang Peak or listen to music played by Yuyin wood.
Once they found a quiet place, that person’s cold, jade-like expression would soften, and those eyes, a hundred times more beautiful than Shan Can’s, would silently gaze at her.
Shan Can had never imagined there would come a day when she’d feel relieved at the prospect of not seeing her, simply because the event would be too crowded.
T.N:Â
ç¢§è½ (Bìluò): This refers to the “heavens” or “paradise.” In classical Chinese literature, it can represent the sky or a celestial realm.黄泉 (Huángquán): This refers to the “underworld” or “netherworld,” often associated with death or the afterlife.
Together, 碧è½é»„泉 (Bìluò Huángquán) is a common Chinese idiom meaning “heaven and the underworld” or “from heaven to the underworld,” signifying the entire universe or the extremes of existence, covering both life and death.
And so it begins! Hope you enjoy the new translation. I assure you this novel won’t dissapoint!
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