Chapter 322: Collecting Emperor Flow on New Year

Hearing Feng Xue ask this, Bai Yi became interested; though she couldn’t discern his origins, any part of Feng Xue’s body revealed profound cultivation, clearly no ordinary person.

This young upstart was asking her questions—she couldn’t help but find it somewhat challenging.

Yet to preserve her senior’s dignity, she replied with a playful, teasing tone:

“Go ahead, but I make no promises I can answer.”

Hearing this senior’s childish tone, Feng Xue internally scoffed, but chose to ask directly:

“What happens if a person consumes Emperor Flow?”

“Why are you asking this? The next Geng Shen year is still sixteen years away!” Bai Yi, hearing such a question, couldn’t help but feel speechless, yet still answered:

“If you must know, nothing much happens. Emperor Flow’s main effect is to awaken wisdom; humans are naturally intelligent, so consuming it brings no fundamental change—perhaps a slight increase in lifespan. Medically, it has the effects of nourishing yang, absorbing qi, calming shock, and stabilizing the spirit. A thousand years ago, some major physical cultivation sects accepted disciples only once every sixty years, precisely to guide their students into their first meditation during the Geng Shen night, using Emperor Flow to calm the mind and balance yang energy. But since it appears only once every sixty years, relying on it to assist cultivation is clearly impractical.”

“Is that so?” Feng Xue nodded, his expression thoughtful. He had just asked Xiao Lingdang to compile cultivation methods to enhance yang energy—could combining them with Emperor Flow’s effects eliminate concerns about yang excess?

Seeing Feng Xue’s demeanor, Bai Yi grew curious. She’d assumed it was a casual question, but now his seriousness made it clear he truly cared.

“Could it be you have some special cultivation method requiring Emperor Flow as a catalyst? Come to think of it, he worships the moon—this need wouldn’t be strange.” Bai Yi thought to herself, but respecting the rule against prying into others’ techniques, she suppressed her curiosity and merely warned:

“The next Geng Shen year is still fifteen years away. I advise you not to become obsessed—once obsession takes root, the human calamity will come.”

“Thank you for the warning. I’m not in urgent need—last night, I accidentally collected a single drop of Emperor Flow and don’t know how to use it.”

Feng Xue had just finished his cultivation, exhaled a puff of turbid qi, and spoke with a shy tone. Bai Yi initially didn’t react, merely nodding, intending to say no more—but after replaying his words in her mind, her eyes widened in disbelief:

“Kid, do you even realize what you just said? You collected a drop of Emperor Flow on the night of the last day of Jia Chen year to the first day of Yi Si year?”

Perhaps due to sheer shock, Bai Yi’s voice cracked slightly, yet Feng Xue maintained his utterly reasonable expression and nodded:

“Yeah!”

“...” Bai Yi felt overwhelmed by the information and pinched her brow, then said:

“How old are you? Have you even seen Emperor Flow before? That’s not just compressed ordinary moonlight.”

“My wife saw it—she said it’s the same as what she ate back then.” Feng Xue smiled cheerfully. Bai Yi was instantly speechless, but curiosity got the better of her:

“Uh, mind if I take a look?”

“Senior, you’re too polite.” Feng Xue, sensing an opportunity, immediately turned and gestured for her to follow, leading the senior with thousands of years of lifespan into his home.

“You’re back...” Liu Yunxi, hearing the noise, turned to greet him—but her words stalled as she stared at Bai Yi, her expression turning peculiar.

Bai Yi, seeing Liu Yunxi, also froze slightly. Instinct and cultivation confidence clashed, forcing her to steady herself, though internally she thought:

“So your wife really is a demon who’s eaten Emperor Flow?”

Feng Xue didn’t care what Bai Yi was thinking—he walked straight to the statue of Su’e Huiye and pointed to the single drop of Emperor Flow, its aura sealed by his cultivation power:

“Senior, look—this is it.”

“It really is Emperor Flow?” Bai Yi was stunned now. Even outside Geng Shen year, as long as it was the fifteenth of the seventh month—or even any fifteenth or tenth...

“I collected it by accident—I nearly mistook it for ordinary moonlight.” Feng Xue’s expression was casual. Bai Yi, however, stared hungrily:

“You’re just wasting this. At best, you can feed it to spirit ghosts—it won’t work as well as incense offerings. Let me have it. Name your price—vitality or resources, anything.”

Watching Bai Yi’s unabashed eagerness, Feng Xue was speechless—she really wasn’t afraid he’d hike the price?

But thinking it over, she really had no reason to fear it. Emperor Flow was precious, yes—but not priceless. It appeared every sixty years, in large quantities, and was simply hard to store.

Besides, heaven had eyes, ancestors had knowledge—overpricing would only erode one’s own fortune.

He considered his current needs: his cultivation techniques were fully covered—not just Xiao Lingdang’s exhaustive list, but also the ones he’d looted from the game world.

As for resources, he saw nothing more cost-effective than pre-civilization nanounits—he still hadn’t finished his sack of fish cakes, and once he did, he’d head to the Sea World to retrieve that damn woman anyway. No need to trade.

As for money and vitality—he had more than enough...

After a moment’s thought, until Bai Yi began to fret over losing the chance, he finally said:

“I need a collection of Wu Xiu cultivation methods—more types and quantities, the better. You decide how much this Emperor Flow is worth—just give me what you think.”

“Wu Xiu? You want those?” Bai Yi was surprised by his request, but realized collecting them was indeed difficult—unlike cultivation sects that openly share teachings, Wu Xiu sects, lacking spiritual cultivation, often lost lineages during turmoil, a major reason for their decline.

Of course, Wu Xiu sects were aware of this. Many kept backup copies of their teachings, entrusted to trusted Xuan Xiu sects, ensuring survival even if disaster struck.

You couldn’t say they never passed them on—otherwise, it’d be pointless—but who received them, and how much, was always an issue. A young upstart asking outright would be turned away—but an elder like her, willing to lend face, could gather plenty.

“You’re shrewd, kid. Fine. Hold onto it—I’ll give you an answer by tomorrow night at the latest!”

(End of Chapter)