Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty-One: Another Purge

Assisting Star Deity Jun to escape brought a sense of exhilaration, a feeling so pleasant to Liu Xiaolou that it traveled from his mind through his meridians, guiding the smooth flow of true qi within them; he urgently wished to return to the mountain and begin cultivation immediately.

He quickened his pace to the outskirts of Peach Source Mountains, retrieved his buried spirit stones, array plates, tokens, array texts, and silver coins, then immediately set off on his return journey. Compared to when he left, his belongings had increased, so he dared not cross Mount Wuling again—too many bandits and spirit beasts lurked there, not worth the risk; instead, he detoured south by over a hundred li, following the Wuchao River upstream until he finally returned to Wulong Mountain, absent for over three months.

He lingered for half a day beneath Gan Bamboo Ridge, shared a meal of coarse rice with Tian Bo, distributed a few taels of silver among familiar villagers, then firmly ascended the mountain.

Tian Bo said that in the first month of this year, A Zhen had returned home and intended to visit Liu Xiaolou on the mountain, but he was gone. A Zhen had cultivated for a year under Master Jingzhen of Xiushan and had already entered Qi Refining First Stage—quite a rapid progress; he himself had ascended the mountain at age eight and only reached Qi Refining First Stage at ten, making him feel somewhat inferior.

If that little girl surpassed him, his face would be utterly lost!

Thinking of this, Liu Xiaolou paid no mind to the overgrown weeds in the courtyard or the spiderwebs clinging to the rafters—he immediately began cultivation.

The three acupoints of the Pericardium Meridian—Tianchi, Tianquan, and Quze—had all been unblocked; next came Qimen.

Qimen lies on the palm side of the forearm; once unblocked, symptoms like palpitations and chest constriction become less likely—not merely because the acupoint gate is opened, but because true qi accumulates within the acupoint pool. True qi is the transformation of spiritual power adapted to the human body; once accumulated, it warms and nourishes vital acupoints, which is precisely why cultivation extends lifespan.

Spiritual energy from the spirit stone in his palm was slowly drawn out, transformed into true qi through steady breathing, inch by inch pushing toward the Qimen acupoint gate. This process, Liu Xiaolou had repeated endlessly since age eight—for eleven years—so cultivation was dull; yet the profound ease and delight after each successful breakthrough was indescribable, making cultivation deeply enjoyable.

Days passed like this, until one day, Big White suddenly returned, carefully clearing weeds and spiderwebs like a child repenting; when Liu Xiaolou opened his eyes, the courtyard had regained its vitality.

Fourteen days later, one spirit stone was exhausted, so he replaced it with another and continued cultivation.

When the first spring rain of the year on Wulong Mountain drifted down in fine, slippery threads, Qimen acupoint shattered—true qi surged joyfully into the acupoint pool, stirring up tiny waves.

He had planned to press forward and strike the fifth acupoint, but a foul, unbearable stench forced him to break his meditation; he glanced at the pile of rotting fish, wild rabbits, and mountain chickens beside the stove and sighed bitterly.

This beast had grown increasingly fond of cooked food; when Liu Xiaolou was away, he could tolerate it, but whenever he was home, Big White dragged back wild game and waited eagerly for him to light the fire and cook.

Fine, I’ll cook one meal—after a month of dried rations, it’s time to improve the diet. But these carcasses were already rotting, especially the fish—the smell was unbearable.

Before he could rise, Big White flapped back in from outside, clutching two fresh, plump fish in its beak. It didn’t notice Liu Xiaolou had ended his meditation; after dropping the fish, it circled the stove twice, then suddenly stretched its beak to snatch a piece of wood from beneath it, stared at the wood for a moment, and began pecking at it.

Liu Xiaolou had no idea what it was doing, so he patiently watched.

Soon, Big White’s pecking grew faster, wood chips flew everywhere, and a circular hole visibly formed on the wood.

Liu Xiaolou chuckled—this thing was imitating a woodpecker?

But as he watched further, his smile froze—the circular hole began to emit blue smoke...

Seeing the smoke, Big White snatched several dry leaves from the side and laid them over the smoke; the leaves ignited instantly, leaving Liu Xiaolou dumbfounded.

But the spring rain suddenly intensified, the droplets now dozens of times denser, quickly dousing the flames.

Big White stamped its feet in place, squawked twice at the sky, as if venting its frustration.

Liu Xiaolou finally snapped back to reality and called out: “Big White!”

Big White flapped its wings to Liu Xiaolou’s side, one wing drooping to point at the extinguished wood, squawking incessantly.

Liu Xiaolou pondered for a long while, then finally pulled out a spirit stone, placed it in his palm, and held it to its beak. Compared to last year, this creature seemed to have grown even more sentient—could it truly have potential as a pet? He wasn’t short on spirit stones now, unlike last year’s hardship; he could afford to waste one.

Big White paused, stared at Liu Xiaolou, then at the spirit stone resting in his palm, glanced back and forth, crept forward step by step, then suddenly lunged, snatched the spirit stone from his palm, turned, and bolted—racing out of the courtyard and into the bamboo grove.

Liu Xiaolou smiled, rose, and went to where it hid its treasures; he pushed aside a clump of dry grass and found a half-tael gold ingot and a gold hairpin. The gold was light but finely wrought; the hairpin was carved with intricate latticed butterfly patterns, both in excellent condition.

Which wealthy household had been robbed this time?

As he pondered, a village boy dashed up the mountain, clinging to the fence and shouting: “Little Immortal Master, hurry and hide! A major sect is coming to purge Wulong Mountain!”

Liu Xiaolou asked: “Niu Ya, who sent you?”

The boy replied: “Tian Bo said people have already been scouting below the mountain. Oh, they’re from Dongting Lake—Qingyu Sect. Little Immortal Master, I can’t stay—I still have to go to Qizhang Ridge!”

Liu Xiaolou frowned in thought—why had Qingyu Sect suddenly come to purge Wulong Mountain? Was it after me? Did they find out I rescued Star Deity Jun and Zhou Qi Niang?

Impossible!

Then it must be the incident last winter, when Zhou Family was destroyed by Wang Laoda gathering heroes—could it be that too many Wulong Mountain allies answered the Hero’s Decree, and they traced it back?

If Qingyu Sect is launching a large-scale purge of Wulong Mountain, does that mean they’ve abandoned their blockade of Peach Source? Or perhaps they’re capable of fighting on two fronts simultaneously?

Either way, I must run—I’ve fled countless times since coming up the mountain; once or twice every one or two years, nothing unusual.

He hastily packed a satchel, loaded everything he needed—including the glittering gold, silver, pearls, and jade that Big White had collected—and shouted toward the bamboo grove: “Big White!”

The beast burst out flapping its wings—the spirit stone was probably already swallowed.

Liu Xiaolou slung the satchel over his shoulder, donned his conical hat, pulled on his straw rain cape, and descended the mountain beneath the drizzling spring rain.

This time, he dared not hide in his secret refuge—he planned to leave Wulong Mountain entirely. He had seen Qingyu Sect’s abilities: shape-shifting arts, spirit summoning, even mountain deity manifestations; hiding on Wulong Mountain wouldn’t guarantee safety—he’d better leave.