He Transmigrated Into The Body Of A Demonic Sect Leader And Fell In Love With The Male Lead - Chapter 2

In the original text, the demonic sect’s true name was not the Demonic Sect at all, but rather the Mirror Moon Palace. It was only in the later stages that people grew accustomed to calling the Mirror Moon Palace the Demonic Sect, and over time, their external sect name became simply the Demonic Sect.

The Mirror Moon Palace was nestled upon a peak in the mountain range near Luoyang. Its location was not particularly hidden, yet the scenery was exceptionally breathtaking. Descending the mountain from the Mirror Moon Palace led straight to Luoyang.

Lu Fenghuo walked and stopped along the way. In truth, he had no fixed destination in mind. After pondering for a while, he decided to go see the protagonist of the book.

When he originally wrote this novel, Lu Fenghuo had invested a tremendous amount of effort into the protagonist character, so he wanted to witness firsthand what the protagonist looked like.

At the current point in the timeline, the protagonist should still be a youth, currently in seclusion within a sword sect. That sword sect was one of the three major martial arts sects of the Wuxia world, located not too far from here.

For now, however, Lu Fenghuo decided to head to Luoyang City first to rest his feet.

Since he was out purely for leisure anyway, he would go wherever he pleased, looking around and taking everything in simply for the novelty of it.

Lu Fenghuo had been busy all morning, and by the time he arrived inside Luoyang City, the noon hour had already passed. He had walked a considerable distance. Although he traveled using lightness martial arts, he still felt quite exhausted, as well as hungry and thirsty. He had no spare attention for the surrounding local customs and culture, and instead sought out an inn as soon as possible and stepped inside.

Seeing a guest enter, the inn waiter hurried over. With sharp eyes, he spotted the blade carried by Lu Fenghuo and asked with a cheerful smile, “Esteemed martial artist, are you looking to stay for a meal or lodge for the night?”

“Lodging,” Lu Fenghuo handed him a silver ingot.

The waiter accepted the silver and said, “Right away, please wait a moment.” He hurried over to the counter, handed the silver to the accountant, and returned with a room tag.

The room tag was carved from dark wood, with the room number cleanly engraved on the front side, looking simple yet neat.

“Your room is on the third floor, the fourth room on the left. Please keep your room tag safe,” the waiter instructed, pointing out the route to the rooms.

“Understood, thank you.” Lu Fenghuo took the tag without even glancing at it and tucked it away. He then cast a glance around, noticing that all the surrounding tables were vacant, and casually chose one to sit down.

The waiter sensibly approached.

Lu Fenghuo then ordered five or six dishes.

This inn was neither large nor small, situated in the eastern district of Luoyang City. Stepping through the city gates made it immediately clear that the location was not overly remote, yet it remained relatively far from the bustling downtown area.

While Lu Fenghuo was eating, he noticed a group of people walking down from the second floor.

The group wore varied clothing, but every single one of them had a sword strapped to their waist. A rough count revealed around twenty-odd individuals, all looking fierce and menacing.

Leading them was an old man who appeared to be in his seventies or eighties. His hair was completely white, his face covered in wrinkles, and his dark skin was withered and dry. He held a brown walking stick in his hand and looked exceptionally harsh and mean-spirited.

Lu Fenghuo did not pay them much attention, simply focusing on his meal. However, the sound of their conversation kept drifting into his ears.

These people clearly did not look like upstanding citizens, and their guarded conversation made it difficult to catch the exact details, though it was vaguely apparent they were heading out on some sort of errand.

Lu Fenghuo had no intention of meddling in other people’s business. There were all sorts of people in the martial arts world, and he could not possibly manage them all.

His destination was crystal clear: he wanted to go see the protagonist. If it turned out to be fun, he might just abduct the protagonist along the way.

Just as he was nearly finished eating, Lu Fenghuo heard an argument break out nearby. Before he could even figure out the situation, he saw the inn waiter knocked flat onto the ground.

Taking a closer look, he realized: oh!

It was precisely those people from earlier.

They were stirring up trouble.

Among them, a bulky and muscular man stepped forward, glaring fiercely down at the waiter on the floor, and barked viciously, “I told you to go buy some wine, why are you causing so much trouble?”

The leader of this group, the dark-skinned old man, showed no particular reaction to the scene, acting as if it were a common occurrence, and simply sat to one side sipping his tea calmly.

The waiter had just taken a kick and was struggling to catch his breath, but he still braced himself with a wry smile and said, “Patrons, please calm your anger. You might not know this, but the owner of our establishment has a strict rule: no alcohol is allowed inside the inn. If you don’t believe me, you can check the sign by the front door.”

The bulky man, named Zhao Fan, glanced toward the doorway where a notice board indeed hung. But he brushed it off entirely, shouting abusively, “Rules are dead, but people are alive. Your boss isn’t even here right now, how would he know if I drink? Hurry up, stop chattering nonsense, and go buy the wine for me right now!”

The waiter appeared to be only seventeen or eighteen years old, still a youth who lacked slickness and tended to act on impulse. Seeing how overbearing Zhao Fan was being, he stubbornly slumped onto the floor and refused to move a muscle.

He simply refused to go!

Just as a tragic incident seemed imminent, Lu Fenghuo advised Zhao Fan, “Brother, I see a wine shop right across the street. Why don’t you just go over there to drink? It’s not far at all, and you can drink to your heart’s content.”

At these words, Zhao Fan turned his gaze toward Lu Fenghuo. He saw that Lu Fenghuo possessed completely unremarkable features, wore a purple tunic, and carried a blade at his waist with nothing else of note. He figured this must just be another penniless, shabby swordsman.

Zhao Fan already had anger simmering inside him, and hearing someone dare to advise him only fueled his rage further.

In the martial arts world, people did not care for too many formalities; whoever had the bigger fists made the rules. Zhao Fan believed his martial arts skills were quite decent and dealing with a shabby swordsman should be effortless. Furthermore, he intended to make an example of someone to show the waiter what happened to those who disobeyed, so he drew his blade and charged forward.

He slashed straight at Lu Fenghuo.

Seeing Zhao Fan walk away, the waiter stealthily scrambled into an inconspicuous corner, planning to hide out of sight first.

Lu Fenghuo had merely spoken a single sentence, yet Zhao Fan had instantly lunged at him with a drawn blade, catching Lu Fenghuo off guard for a fleeting moment. Fortunately, he was no ordinary swordsman; his current body belonged to a top-tier expert ranked ninth in the entire martial arts world.

The very instant Zhao Fan drew his blade, Lu Fenghuo instinctively drew his own and rose to meet the attack. The original owner was a total homebody who had obsessively immersed himself in blade techniques day and night, pushing his skill to a terrifying height.

Across the martial arts world, aside from a handful of renowned figures, practically no one else could rival his mastery of the blade.

Using such blade techniques against a minor character like Zhao Fan was naturally effortless. In a flash, Lu Fenghuo’s curved blade flashed into afterimages, and within a dozen exchanges, Zhao Fan’s weapon was knocked straight out of his hand.

Lu Fenghuo had not even used his full strength. Just as he wanted to step forward and completely subdue Zhao Fan, he felt a sudden rush of fierce wind and was involuntarily forced to take two steps back.

Looking closely, he saw that the leader of the group, the dark-skinned old man, had somehow moved and was now standing directly between Lu Fenghuo and Zhao Fan.

Only when the old man faced forward did Lu Fenghuo notice that both of his eyes were tightly shut and deeply sunken inward. As it turned out, the old man was completely blind, which explained why he carried a brown walking stick.

The violent gust of wind just a moment ago was precisely the internal energy emitted by the old man.

Observing the old man, Lu Fenghuo felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Fierce, gloomy, blind, and holding a walking stick, such a character design could only belong to either a disposable cannon fodder or a villain.

Since this world was written by his own hand, a bit of careful recollection brought things into focus. After a few breaths, Lu Fenghuo remembered.

Was this not a cannon fodder character from the later arcs named Liu Dongnian? The one who always had foolproof escape methods and survived multiple beatings from the protagonist like an unyielding cockroach!

This fellow committed all sorts of heinous acts later on and became notoriously infamous throughout the Jianghu. Of course, this was still the early phase of the story, so he probably wasn’t as well-known yet.

That old man, Liu Dongnian, turned his head to look in Lu Fenghuo’s direction and let out a raspy laugh, saying, “Please forgive my junior brother’s hot-headed temperament and blunt manners, little brother. Any offense given just now was purely a misunderstanding.”

Stung by this, Zhao Fan grew furious and protested in a low, anxious voice, “Senior brother! I didn’t…”

“Enough. Every single day all you know how to do is cause trouble for me. Carry on like this and you won’t even know how you end up dying,” Liu Dongnian said coldly.

Zhao Fan immediately shut his mouth.

Lu Fenghuo had no intention of escalating matters either. Although he had nothing to fear, watching the show from a corner suited him just fine. Hence, he did not press the issue further, simply smiling and saying, “I was merely making a casual remark.”

The matter was thus concluded.

Having been reprimanded by Liu Dongnian, Zhao Fan lost all appetite for drinking and sat quietly in his seat, glumly eating his meal.

The biggest beneficiary of the entire incident turned out to be the waiter.

The waiter had fully expected to be beaten or docked of his monthly wages by the owner, but instead, he had been inexplicably saved, averting a disaster. That purple-robed swordsman was truly a wonderful person!

With this thought in mind, the waiter scrambled up from beneath the table, rushed to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of chicken soup, and personally brought it over to Lu Fenghuo as an expression of gratitude. Fearing that Lu Fenghuo might refuse, the waiter scurried off out of sight the moment he set the bowl down.

Lu Fenghuo could only chuckle and accept the chicken soup.