Chapter 2: The Peerless Beauty of the Mortal World

As Zhang Wuxun gently set the box beside him, a commotion arose not far away. Without even turning his head, he knew it was one of the main figures recorded in his father's treasured notebook—Wu Xiaoxie, nicknamed Little Innocent, famously known as Third Young Master.

Zhang Wuxun straightened up solemnly; the main storyline was about to begin.

A slow-moving ox cart ambled down the slope, accompanied by five men of varying builds, all tall and carrying large backpacks. Among them, the youngest-faced one chattered incessantly, a curious little chatterbox.

The slope was short, and within minutes, the five men and the ox cart driver reached the mountain stream.

“Hey, Third Young Master, there’s someone over there,” said the burliest man, sharp-eyed, spotting Zhang Wuxun curled up behind a large backpack, dressed entirely in black workwear. This man, called Da Kui, was one of Third Young Master’s men, though cowardly despite his size.

Wu Xiaoxie glanced over and indeed saw a figure crouching behind a large black backpack, face obscured.

Wu Xiaoxie gave a subtle signal; Da Kui immediately understood and hurried over, slapping the man’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy, are you alone?”

Zhang Wuxun lifted a slit of his eyes, casting a cool glance.

Before he could speak, Da Kui peered closer and suddenly exclaimed, “Whoa!”

“So it’s a little girl!” Da Kui clasped his hands in apology. “Sorry, miss, big brother was mistaken.”

Zhang Wuxun’s eyes sharpened instantly, and he sprang up with a snap. “Who the hell did you call a little girl? Are your dog eyes blind?”

Da Kui, caught off guard by the sudden outburst, fell back into a squat, dumbfounded, his hand trembling as he pointed at Zhang Wuxun, stammering, “You… you…”

Zhang Wuxun shot him a glare and snorted coldly, towering over the towering Da Kui with a commanding presence.

Frankly, although Zhang Wuxun’s looks were somewhat striking, he was certain no one could mistake him for a girl. It was simply Da Kui’s poor eyesight.

Sensing the tension, Wu Xiaoxie cursed inwardly, then approached with a smile. Seeing Zhang Wuxun’s face, he too gasped softly.

Having traveled far and wide, Wu Xiaoxie had seen many beauties, but compared to this person, those so-called beauties seemed downright rustic.

This young man looked no older than twenty, about 1.82 meters tall, upright and graceful, with a rare, sharply defined oval face among men. His brows bore a hint of rebelliousness; his almond-shaped eyes held no warmth, sharp and piercing. On his right earlobe hung an unusually styled earring, and he even had long hair.

Such breathtaking beauty explained Da Kui’s mistake.

Still, the fault was theirs. Any man would be angered if called effeminate.

“Ahem, young brother,” Wu Xiaoxie cleared his throat to mask his earlier embarrassment and spoke diplomatically, “This was our fault. I’ll have my brother apologize properly. How about we forget this matter?”

Was Zhang Wuxun the type to let things go easily?

Alas, he truly was not.

Yet, to complete his mission, he had to get close to Wu Xiaoxie. With this cunning old fox blocking his way, he wouldn’t have a chance to approach otherwise.

So, seizing the moment, he offered Wu Xiaoxie a smile; the icy aura melted instantly, and the atmosphere softened considerably.

“I’m not one to hold grudges. Apology accepted,” Zhang Wuxun said.

Relieved by his amiability, Wu Xiaoxie relaxed and glanced back at Da Kui, still sitting dumbfounded on the ground. He kicked him sharply and scolded, “Why are you still sitting there? Go apologize to our young brother!”

Da Kui scrambled up, cautiously glanced at Zhang Wuxun, and muttered his apology.

Zhang Wuxun waved him off, signaling he accepted it.

The other three, who had been standing nearby, smiled and approached now that the tension had eased.

Panzi was chatting with the old ox cart driver, inquiring when the boat would arrive.

Wu Xiaoxie stole a glance at Zhang Wuxun, then at the hooded, expressionless cool guy, Zhang Qiling, secretly marveling inwardly.

Goodness, he had always considered himself a decent-looking fellow, if not breathtakingly handsome. But today truly opened his eyes—these two were the epitome of beauty and handsomeness, a pair unmatched in the world.

Especially the beautiful one; the more he looked, the more stunning he seemed.

As for the handsome one, though good-looking and cool, he was taciturn, never uttering a word along the way, the very definition of a closed book.

Wu Xiaoxie muttered to himself, when the beautiful one suddenly smiled at him.

His mind nearly short-circuited.

As Wu Xiaoxie observed them, Zhang Wuxun was not idle either.

Wu Xiaoxie clearly seemed inexperienced with the harshness of the world. With his delicate features, slight innocence, and moderate build, he appeared just over 1.8 meters tall and exuded a scholarly aura.

Zhang Wuxun stroked his chin thoughtfully. Hmm, quite adorable.

His gaze shifted back.

The young man was truly a dual pinnacle of combat prowess and striking looks, as noted in the notebook. Even setting aside his fighting skills, his appearance alone was that of a cool, ethereal beauty.

He wore a dark navy hooded cloak, his skin pale and hair jet black, posture erect. Slung on his back was a black-and-gold ancient sword wrapped in black cloth.

What drew Zhang Wuxun most were his eyes.

His eyelids drooped slightly, his pupils a deep, dark black, as still and silent as an ancient well, impervious even to the light’s reflection. They radiated a detached, otherworldly indifference, as if nothing could penetrate their depths.

Perhaps Zhang Wuxun had stared too long because those eyes suddenly flickered, lifting their lids to glance at him with no ripple of emotion before closing again.

“Shh…” Zhang Wuxun shivered, pinched his own thigh hard to wake himself, then averted his gaze, unwilling to look again.