Chapter 372: Secluded Cultivation and Dao Comprehension

The Void-breaking Shuttle moved silently through the void.

Outside the porthole, stars flowed backward like water, and occasionally a nebula swept by, shedding a faint glow. Inside the shuttle all was silent, save for the faint hum of the energy core and the occasional muffled cough.

This was the third day of the return journey.

Wang Ping sat cross-legged in the quiet chamber, closing his eyes to regulate his breath.

The Chaos Nascent Soul slowly turned in his dantian, greedily absorbing the surrounding stray heavenly and earthly spiritual Qi. The Fusang Tree Seed was lush and verdant, the chaos nebula pattern on its leaves clearer than before, as if it, too, had benefited greatly from that battle. The Heaven‑overturning Seal hovered to the left of the Nascent Soul, its shocking cracks still visible but no longer spreading, slowly self‑repairing at a glacial pace. The Chaos Tribulation Sword lay to the right; though its blade's light was dim, its sword intent was all the more refined—for in that battle it had drunk too much puppet blood, and its sword soul was quietly undergoing transformation.

And that wisp of the "Primordial Source of Disorder" now hovered silently before the brow of the Chaos Nascent Soul, like a sleeping seed. It no longer throbbed, no longer stirred; it simply existed, as if waiting for something.

Wang Ping inwardly inspected his condition, his brows slightly furrowed.

His injuries were not light.

He had clashed head‑on with three Void Gods, burning his Nascent Soul's origin, and at the critical moment he had almost given his all—these costs could not be recovered in a short time. Though his cultivation had not dropped, his foundation had acquired subtle cracks. If not repaired in time, future attempts to break through to the Void God realm would surely become a grave danger.

"I need to go into seclusion," he murmured, "at least three months."

But he knew that now was not the time for seclusion.

After returning to the Spirit Realm, there were too many things awaiting him—reporting the truth to the Alliance leadership, organizing the information projected from the Law‑imprint Jade Tablet, joining forces with all factions to discuss countermeasures, and…

The posthumous affairs of the Mountain‑moving Ancestor.

Thinking of that name, Wang Ping's heart sank again.

He opened his eyes, rose, and left the quiet chamber.

Inside the main cabin, the atmosphere was heavy.

Grand Derivation Elder leaned against a soft couch, his complexion still pale but much improved since boarding. Before him floated several jade slips, on which he was slowly inscribing something with his divine sense—part of the rune data he had recorded in the Law Corridor; taking advantage of the present leisure, he hurried to organize it.

Jade Liuli sat beside him, gently polishing the Immortal Sound Bell. The silver bell had lost all its luster, its surface covered in fine cracks, as if it might shatter at any moment. Yet her movements remained tender, as if she were stroking an injured child.

Her visage had still aged a hundred years, yet her eyes now held a deep‑settled calm. The great battle had cost her five hundred years of lifespan, but it had also let her grasp the deeper secrets transmitted by the Fallen Immortal Clan—between life and death there is great terror, and also great awakening.

Cang Xuan sat alone in the corner, his sword resting across his knees. His breath was more retracted and deeper than before, like a peerless sword returned to its sheath. In that battle, though he suffered considerable injury, his progress in the Sword Dao was enough to make any sword cultivator envy—clashing head‑on with a Void God, lingering on the brink of life and death, such an experience is rare indeed.

Madame Mystic Fox remained unconscious, lying on the innermost soft couch. The Moonlight Power left by Ice Moon Fairy still slowly circulated in her body, sustaining her faint vitality. Her breathing was even but extremely slow, each inhale separated by dozens of exhalations—this was the "Turtle Breath" state the body enters when extremely weak, to minimize consumption to the utmost.

Wang Ping's gaze finally fell upon the center of the main cabin.

There, an Ice Crystal Coffin lay still.

That was the ice crystal condensed by Ice Moon Fairy herself using Moonlight Power—clear throughout, emitting a faint, cool light. Within the coffin, the corpse of the Mountain‑moving Ancestor lay peacefully, his countenance serene, the corner of his mouth still bearing his signature heroic smile.

He had already changed into clean robes—the spare Daoist robe that Grand Derivation Elder had pulled from his storage bag, off‑white with simple cloud embroidery. The Mountain‑moving Ancestor's frame was too burly for the robe, which looked a bit tight, but it was still far better than the tattered blood‑stained garb he had worn before.

Wang Ping walked to the coffin and stood silently.

He said nothing, merely gazing at that familiar face, at that smile forever frozen.

In his mind rose once again the scene of their first meeting——

"Old Stone here's long wanted to get close to a few young fellows! Especially Wang Ping, little brother—being personally singled out by Director Jiang and making it back alive from that damn Mysterious Soul Abyss? He's definitely got some skill! When we have the time, let's spar!"

At that time, he was still alive.

At that time, he was still laughing.

Wang Ping closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

Behind him, footsteps sounded.

Cang Xuan had at some point risen, walked to his side, and stood shoulder‑to‑shoulder with him.

"When he passed, he was smiling." Cang Xuan's voice remained stern, yet it now held something never before present—"That shows he had no regrets."

Wang Ping nodded, saying nothing.

Jade Liuli also came over and stood on the other side of the coffin. Gazing at the Ancestor's remains, she said softly, "The Mountain‑moving Ancestor's final punch blasted open a path to life for us all. That punch……"

She paused, her voice choking.

"That punch burned away all of his source. He could have kept a trace of strength, perhaps even had a chance…… but he did not."

Grand Derivation Elder leaned on his whisk, trembled to his feet, and walked to the coffin. Gazing at this comrade who had fought beside him—a junior in years—his eyes brimmed with sorrow and respect.

"Mountain‑moving Daoist, though I have known you only a few months, I know your character well—bold, righteous, devoted to emotion and duty. You died gloriously, you died splendidly… I… I am honored to have a fellow cultivator like you."

He bowed deeply.

Wang Ping looked at him and suddenly spoke.

"Senior, Mountain‑moving Ancestor…… does he have any relatives left in the Spirit Realm?"

Grand Derivation Elder fell silent for a moment, then said slowly, "He came from the ranks of the unaffiliated cultivators, with no sect or clan, only a single disciple who perished in a training expedition three years ago. After that he was utterly alone, wandering by himself."

Wang Ping's heart sank a little further.

Kinless, friendless, utterly alone.

Who knows how many such cultivators exist in the Spirit Realm? They devote their lives to the Dao, with no family ties, no sect to rely on—everything depends on their own fists and feet. They live hard, die heroically, and only a handful are remembered in the end.

"After returning to the Spirit Realm, I will personally see to his after‑affairs." Wang Ping's voice was low but unusually firm, "Let him rest in earth, raise a stele to preserve his name, so that posterity knows the Spirit Realm once had such a hero."

Cang Xuan nodded: "I will go as well."

Jade Liuli said softly: "I'll go too. Though the Immortal Sound Bell is damaged, it can still play a dirge. I wish to see the Mountain‑moving Ancestor off on his final journey."

Grand Derivation Elder swayed his whisk: "Though I'm not skilled at such matters, I can still contribute—writing a memorial inscription is within my ability."

The group exchanged glances; each pair of eyes held sorrow, yet also a warmth.

Though the Mountain‑moving Ancestor had no kin, he had these comrades who fought shoulder‑to‑shoulder with him.

This, perhaps, was also a form of solace.

On the seventh day of the return, the Void‑breaking Shuttle finally pierced the last stretch of void and entered the stellar fringe of the Spirit Realm.

In the distance, that familiar green star already loomed in sight.

Spirit Realm.

We're home.

All gathered on the Stargazing Platform, gazing at the ever‑nearer star, their hearts a mixture of feelings.

Six set out, five returned, and there was still an ice coffin.

But no matter what, they came back.

They brought back information capable of changing the fate of the Spirit Realm.

The Boundary-breaking Shuttle slowly passed through the Spirit Realm's outer defensive grand formation and entered Dark Star Harbor. Inside the harbor, the Alliance high-ups, who had already received the news, had been waiting for a long time.

The moment the cabin door opened, Jiang Haiyun was the first to go up to meet them.

His gaze swept past the crowd and fell on the ice coffin in the center of the main cabin.

Silence.

After a long while, he let out a soft sigh and bowed deeply.

"Mountain-mover Daoist friend, walk well."

Behind him, Lei Wanting, Bingyue Xianzi, and dozens of Nascent Soul cultivators from various factions all bowed in salute.

This is the highest salute paid by Spirit Realm cultivators.

Wang Ping said nothing, merely silently supporting the ice coffin as he stepped down from the Boundary-breaking Shuttle step by step.

Behind him, Cang Xuan, Yu Liuli, Tianyan Venerable, and Xuanhu Lady (still unconscious, being carried) followed silently.

After returning to the Ninth Dao Academy, the first thing Wang Ping did was arrange the posthumous affairs of Banshan Laozu.

There were no extravagant ceremonies, no complicated rites, only a simple and solemn funeral.

In the eastern reaches of the Spirit Realm lies Nameless Mountain. This was Banshan Laozu's favorite place to cultivate in life; he once said the mountain's grandeur mirrored his nature.

Wang Ping erected his memorial tomb on the mountaintop.

The tombstone was a piece of bluish stone that Cang Xuan personally fetched from the mountain's base and shaped with a sword; its surface was smooth as a mirror. Tianyan Venerable personally inscribed the epitaph: "Tomb of the Spirit Realm loose cultivator, Lord Mountain-mover, named Shi Gandang." Beside it was carved a line of small text: "A life of boldness, deep affection and righteousness, falling in the void to protect fellow Daoists. May the later generations of the Spirit Realm never forget."

Yu Liuli played a lament. That was the ancient farewell song of the Fallen Immortal Clan—ethereal and sorrowful, echoing long on the mountaintop.

Cang Xuan offered a cup of wine, pouring it before the tombstone.

Wang Ping knelt before the tomb and kowtowed three times heavily.

"Senior, we have noted your grudge. One day we will settle the Purified World Court's debt, item by item."

He rose to his feet, gazing far out at the sea of clouds, remaining silent for a long time.

The mountain wind howled, stirring his robes.

Behind him, everyone stood silently, accompanying this old friend on his final journey.

After the funeral, Wang Ping had not a moment's rest.

He immediately sought out Jiang Haiyun, presenting in full the projection of the Law-imprint Jade Tablet, the interpretation of the fragmented scroll of the Myriad Phenomena Star Gazer, and all the details of that star chart to the Alliance high-ups.

Jiang Haiyun, Lei Wanting, Bingyue Xianzi, and several other elders who had been in seclusion for years at the Transformation God stage gathered in the secret chamber of the Ninth Dao Academy, discussing nonstop for three days and three nights.

Three days later, Wang Ping was summoned alone by Jiang Haiyun.

"Child, you have done well." Jiang Haiyun looked at him, eyes full of satisfaction: "This information is enough for the Spirit Realm to prepare a hundred years in advance. The subsequent matters will be handled by the Alliance. What you need to do is to close yourself off for cultivation, heal your injuries, and strive for a higher realm."

Wang Ping nodded: "Disciple understands."

Jiang Haiyun raised his hand and handed him a token.

"This is the pass to the Chaos Cavern-Heaven, the deepest part of the Ninth Dao Academy. There the spiritual qi is ten times that of the outside world, and remnants of Chaos Dao resonance remain, making it most suitable for you to contemplate those law insights. You decide how long to stay in seclusion."

Wang Ping received the token and performed a solemn salute.

"Thank you, Uncle-master."

Jiang Haiyun waved his hand and let out a soft sigh.

"Go. Remember, what you carry is not only your own path. The life of the Mountain-mover's child, the inheritance of the Myriad Phenomena Star Gazer, and the future of the Spirit Realm… all rest on your shoulders."

Wang Ping fell silent for a moment, then nodded heavily.

"Disciple, remembered."