Chapter Sixty: Broken Clues

Half a month later, in a mountain forest not far from the outskirts of Bailin Town.

Liu Pan’s eyes flickered, then he turned to Liu Kuang beside him and said, “The person is still there, but he’s being watched.”

Liu Kuang was startled by this, and it took him a moment to process Liu Pan’s words. He glanced toward the direction of Bailin Town, then looked at Liu Pan, his eyes filled with incredulity.

He had long known that Liu Pan had awakened his spiritual power, but he hadn’t expected it to be so extraordinary. The two of them were still several li away from Bailin Town, yet Liu Pan’s words implied that his spiritual sense had already swept into the town. How could Liu Kuang not be amazed?

After a brief silence, Liu Kuang began to understand why Liu Pan dared to return to Bailin Town. With such formidable spiritual power, he could probe the situation from several li away; if any danger appeared, he could leave in advance, without worrying too much.

“What should we do?” Liu Kuang frowned. He couldn’t scan the town with his own spiritual power, so their actions would naturally depend on Liu Pan’s decision.

Liu Pan did not answer right away. He carefully swept the town three times with his spiritual sense before saying, “Let’s just sneak in directly. I haven’t detected anyone particularly powerful in the town. If we’re discovered by someone who shouldn’t see us, we’ll play it by ear.”

He paused slightly as he spoke. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with someone who might spot them—after all, they bore no grudge, and to kill outright would be inhuman. As a young man from twenty-first-century Earth, Liu Pan found it hard to bring himself to do such a thing.

Yet, if he left it alone, news of their return to Bailin Town would soon reach the higher-ups of the Baiyang Sect, which would be very dangerous. Thus, he could only decide how to handle it based on the situation.

After further discussion, the two decided to act separately. Their goals were different, and moving together would waste time and greatly increase the chance of being discovered.

“The second elder is currently at the plaza where the clan’s disciples usually gather. But I suggest you don’t go there—too many people, too many eyes. Even if you act quietly, it’s easy to be noticed. If you’re exposed, it’ll be troublesome. Besides, you probably have things to ask him, and that place isn’t suited for conversation. Just wait at his residence; it may take more time, but it’s much safer,” Liu Pan said after thinking for a moment.

Liu Kuang pondered briefly, then nodded. “And you?”

“I’ll go to the ancestral hall and look through the clan records. Conveniently, the person I most want to find is also there, which saves me some trouble.”

After confirming Liu Kuang had successfully slipped into Bailin Town, Liu Pan gripped the hilt of the longsword on his back and swiftly moved toward the town.

The sword was nothing special, just a common iron blade purchased in a nearby town. After days of rest, the weariness caused by taking the Explosive Origin Pill had completely dissipated. Liu Pan had also acquired the “Art of Weapon Control” from Yan. Now, he’d left his spiritual imprint on the sword; if he encountered danger, he could control it to flee, no longer needing someone to carry him away like when escaping Baiyang Sect.

Less than half an hour later, Liu Pan darted into the ancestral hall of the Liu Clan.

Smoke curled in the air. Before him, a middle-aged man in pale purple robes stood in the hall like a statue. Judging by the fresh ash in the censer, the man had been there for quite some time.

Liu Pan thought for a moment, then willed his sword to slip quietly from its sheath under his spiritual control, finally resting silently against the man’s throat.

The instant the cold steel touched his neck, the middle-aged man shuddered and hesitated before tilting his head to look at the sword’s hilt, clearly trying to see who held it.

“Liu Pan?” he exclaimed, astonished. He saw no one grasping the sword, but noticed Liu Pan walking calmly into the hall.

“It’s been a while, Clan Chief,” Liu Pan smiled, not stopping as he passed the man and headed for the altar, picking up a book to leaf through.

“Why have you come back? Where’s Liu Kuang?” Liu Xuanfeng finally came to himself after a long moment, his gaze fixed intently on Liu Pan.

“He’s gone to find the second elder,” Liu Pan replied offhandedly. The book in his hands, which he’d been flipping through rapidly, suddenly paused, and his eyes showed a hint of puzzlement.

“What?! He’s back? How can he—” Liu Xuanfeng had barely begun to speak before he moved toward the door.

But as he moved, the iron sword at his shoulder traced a bloody line across his neck, then spun to block his path. At the same time, Liu Pan’s voice sounded, “Don’t be hasty. I have some questions for you.”

Liu Pan understood Liu Xuanfeng, the Liu Clan chief, fairly well. He was ultimately a man who put the family first.

Originally, to avoid clan division, Liu Xuanfeng had pretended not to know Liu Kuang had been framed, trying to drive him out. Now, learning Liu Kuang possessed a spiritual weapon, he had instantly changed his attitude.

What did a spiritual weapon mean? There was only one in the entire southern border of the province. Now, Liu Kuang alone outweighed the whole clan. If he survived, the Liu Clan would surely rise.

Blocked by the sword, Liu Xuanfeng hesitated, finally coming to himself, staring at Liu Pan in shock. “Your cultivation—”

Liu Pan didn’t answer, but waved the book he held in front of Liu Xuanfeng. “Tell me about my father and mother.”

The book was the Liu Clan genealogy. When Liu Kuang discovered discrepancies in his birth date, he’d suspected he might not be a Liu.

Yet, when Liu Pan examined the records, he found his name there, along with the birth date from his memory. How could he not be puzzled?

A clan would never record an outsider in its genealogy; that meant he truly was a Liu. But if so, how to explain the anomalies of his body?

Could it be related to transmigration? Clearly not, since only the soul had crossed, and bone age wouldn’t be affected by spirit. According to the records, he should have reached adulthood already, but in reality, he hadn’t yet.

Thus, the only clue left lay with his parents, whom he had never met.

Liu Xuanfeng was clearly startled by Liu Pan’s question. After a moment, his expression turned slightly unnatural as he replied, “Weren’t your parents killed over ten years ago? Why are you suddenly asking about them?”

“Did they really die?” Liu Pan’s eyes flickered, his tone uncertain.

Liu Xuanfeng’s body trembled subtly. He glanced, almost imperceptibly, at the sword blocking him, then clenched his teeth and nodded. “They died.”

His facial and bodily shifts did not escape Liu Pan’s spiritual sense.

When Liu Pan had asked about his parents, Liu Xuanfeng’s unease made Liu Pan recall countless stories from Earth, where protagonists’ powerful parents would arrange their hardships before their rise.

He wondered if his parents’ deaths were mere pretense, that they were secretly planning something. If so, now that he had returned and shown his skill in weapon control, surely Liu Xuanfeng would reveal something—otherwise, it wouldn’t fit the pattern.

Yet Liu Xuanfeng revealed nothing, biting his lip but firmly insisting his parents were dead.

What was this? Liu Pan was baffled.

“How did they die?” After a while, Liu Pan came to himself and asked with a frown.

At the question, Liu Xuanfeng’s body trembled again, his expression unnatural. “Sixteen years ago—”

After Liu Xuanfeng finished, Liu Pan fell silent—not only because he’d lost the only clue to his body’s mystery, but because he had learned the Liu Clan’s dark history.

According to Liu Xuanfeng, sixteen years ago, when the clan was choosing a new chief, Liu Pan’s father was a strong contender. Liu Pan had just been born. Some unscrupulous clan members sent people to kidnap the newborn Liu Pan, forcing his father to “go mad” at the clan meeting.

Liu Pan’s father went berserk, killing the elder who’d masterminded the abduction. The other elders, out of their own concerns, joined forces to kill Liu Pan’s father. His mother then followed him in death for love.

Finally, out of humanity, the newborn Liu Pan was spared and allowed to be raised by a servant.

Liu Pan was silent. He didn’t know what to say. He had no memory of his parents; throughout his life, he’d only known they were dead, never even learning where they were buried.

Now, having learned all this, Liu Pan felt nothing but confusion—he didn’t know what to do.

Revenge for his parents? He had no memories or feelings toward them, and even after learning how they died, he felt little hatred. So how could he avenge them? What could he do?

After a long time, Liu Pan exhaled deeply, calming the turmoil within, then asked, “Tell me, where are they buried?”