Chapter 355: After the Battle

“Alright, you’ll feel weak for the next few days—rest well. Go get a bowl of vegetable porridge from the soup stall next door every day; you should recover in three days.”

Having treated another patient, Feng Xue wiped away nonexistent sweat and rang the bell on the table.

Although high-level cultivators had used pre-placed spells to absorb most of the residual shock from the combined technique, cases of injuries from collapsing buildings, wind-induced illnesses due to sudden temperature shifts, or hail damage from subsequent violent weather were not uncommon.

While other cultivators were assigned to restore the port city of Shenshuigang as Earth-wood Immortals, Feng Xue was stationed within the city to treat the sick.

The sudden temperature spike from the explosion had now subsided, but this meant even more residents would fall ill in the coming days.

Fortunately, Feng Xue had access to a beast-medicine workshop (a food-synthesis device) with unlimited antibiotics—without any supernatural power, common colds and flu were no concern.

As the saying goes, sometimes the unplanted willow grows into shade: during this healing journey, Su’e Huiye had gathered considerable votive power, her sentience growing ever more vivid—but Feng Xue knew this was as far as it should go.

The ritual for the mana computer was far too complex; with his current technical level, even after ten or twenty years of carving, he might not produce a talisman capable of hosting an AI template.

So Feng Xue planned to travel to the Sea World and borrow Xiao Lingling’s 3D printer to directly print a mana computer talisman.

But that meant, before then, Su’e Huiye should remain in her dim, half-formed spirit state—once her cognition solidified, altering her later would become troublesome.

Feng Xue had no intention of becoming one of those hapless scientists in tokusatsu dramas who accidentally create something they can’t control.

He stretched vigorously, revealing a weary expression, nodded to a nearby cultivator, and walked toward the nearby tent.

“No, no! We’ve perfectly replicated the entire sequence—why still can’t we reproduce the effect?”

“Maybe the snake’s own structure reacted with our ritual?”

“That’s problematic—we can’t easily find another spirit identical to it.”

“No need for identical—it just needs similar base properties. I inspected the blast site—the impure votive energy forming the spirit mostly dispersed; it likely didn’t participate in the reaction. I think it acted as some kind of… ah, catalyst—a foreign chemistry term, meaning…”

“So basically, find a water- or poison-aligned spirit? Antique dealer! You got any suitable ones?”

“I sell spirit ghosts, not spirits! Go find the shamans if you want spirits!”

…

As Feng Xue reached the tent, he heard a group of cultivators gathered and shouting—there was no helping it; the previous spell had been too dazzling, and after casting it, they were still buzzing, now trying to replicate it.

Fortunately, no one died in this battle, and cultivators’ superior memories allowed them to clearly recall their sequence—even if they forgot the full order, they could still dredge from their soul-sea who passed the spell to whom.

Within moments, the entire ritual was laid out.

But a problem emerged in this process: even after perfectly replicating the ritual without any simplification, the resulting spell’s power was nowhere near proportional to its complexity—far short of the spell that had blasted a lake into existence.

If they had succeeded, the matter would’ve ended there—but precisely because they couldn’t, more and more cultivators joined the discussion, determined to solve it no matter what.

“Feng Daoist?” One cultivator noticed Feng Xue’s arrival and waved; Feng Xue nodded and said:

“I’m exhausted today—going home to rest. Any Daoist skilled in medicine, could you take over for me?”

The cultivators understood perfectly—after all, he hadn’t even entered the Dao yet, yet had drained his mana completely and still used votive power to heal others. Denying him rest would be inhumane.

One cultivator immediately said:

“I’ve been idle long enough—I’ll go earn some merit too. If you make any progress, let me know!”

“Won’t forget you!” Another cultivator laughed in reply, and the group resumed their discussion.

Listening to the spell research drifting into territory beyond his comprehension, Feng Xue ultimately stuck to his persona—leaving behind only a cybernetic avatar of a small bell, citing the need to preserve a teleportation coordinate.

This practice was common among cultivators who could teleport; most left behind spirit ghost traces or soul marks—but Xiao Lingling’s computational power and subjective initiative allowed her to record and analyze every discussion.

Since the cultivators had intended open discussion, they didn’t guard against eavesdropping—making things convenient for Feng Xue.

He had no intention of replicating the “Bashu Explosive Bomb”—its casting time was too long, and its power excessive. What he truly needed were the unintentional insights and techniques these masters revealed while studying how to achieve it.

At moments like this, Feng Xue missed Old Li.

“That old man still owes me a day of teaching! Hmph—I’ll compile all the knowledge points, and next time I see him, I’ll ask them all at once!”

Feng Xue muttered inwardly, pushed open his door. Shenshuigang grew more developed the closer to the port—Jilongzhai, far from the harbor, had suffered the least damage; his spell-protected house had suffered not a single…

“Alright, there’s a lot of ash.”

He cast a Dust-Cleansing Spell to clean the room, then released Liu Yunxi again.

“I thought you were going to run off again!”

Seeing home, Liu Yunxi finally sighed in relief, took the belongings from Feng Xue, and began rearranging them.

Feng Xue could only smile:

“Even if you say that, every major battle requires packing up first—unused items are just a matter of rearranging later, but if we truly had to flee, anything left behind would need replacement.”

Liu Yunxi had no rebuttal to Feng Xue’s path dependency; she nodded and reinstalled Xiao Lingling’s transmitter in the living room, then rebuilt the home network.

Seeing the network restored, Mo Ying happily emerged from the painting, clutching her phone, and flew toward her room—

“I’m exhausted these past two days—I’m resting for two!”

“???”

(End of Chapter)