Chapter 16

Behind the small hill, in a meadow blooming with flowers, Wang Yu stood silently before an unremarkable freshly turned mound, holding the black leather book in one hand.

“Master, you said you wished to be buried whole in a place with flowers and grass—I’ve done as you asked. But Master, didn’t you foresee this day? Otherwise, why leave behind a will in your notes, instructing the one who inherits your legacy to go to the Li family? Yet I fear I cannot fulfill this.” Wang Yu muttered to the mound, shaking his head repeatedly.

He knew he would return to Blue Star in a few days—how could he possibly travel tens of thousands of li to that place? Yet the notes did indeed record a way to leave the Huangshi City region.

“Bai Zhen Pavilion, Chishui River.”

Wang Yu murmured the two names.

At that moment, a clear cry echoed from high above; a small emerald bird descended from the sky and landed on a nearby sapling, chirping wildly on the branches before spreading its wings and flying off.

“That bird seems familiar.”

Wang Yu frowned slightly at the sight, but ultimately took the black leather book and left.

To be fair, Master Chongyun had only taken him as a disciple for a mere dozen days, yet he had treated him fairly well. But since their time together was so brief, it was hard to say he felt deep grief—more like the sudden passing of a kind elder, leaving only a quiet ache in his heart.

Wang Yu found a stream outside, drank some water, returned to the cave, ate some dry rations haphazardly, then sat cross-legged on the ground and reread the black leather book.

As Master Chongyun had said, the first half of the book was filled with his casual notes—containing not only cultivation insights on Yin Water Art, but also travel observations, recording many matters and common knowledge related to cultivators.

This finally gave him a general understanding of the cultivation world.

For instance, according to the notes, a cultivator’s cultivation speed depended not only on their own spiritual roots and the quality of their cultivation art, but also on the heavenly and earthly spiritual energy of the location.

For low-level cultivators, the first two factors offered little choice: the quality of one’s spiritual root, formed from the spiritual seed, was entirely a matter of fate, beyond any external influence. As for cultivation arts, they were rarely passed down—finding even one that could carry one to the peak of Qi Refinement was already a stroke of fortune.

Thus, the only factor one could choose for oneself was the cultivation location.

The notes stated that the first three levels of Qi Refinement were the “pseudo-cultivation” stage of early Qi Refinement; as long as one possessed spiritual sensitivity after receiving the spiritual seed, one could cultivate successfully anywhere. But after the third level, one must find a spiritual domain containing a “spirit vein” to continue cultivation—otherwise, the concentration of heavenly and earthly spiritual energy would be insufficient to sustain further breathing and absorption, halting progress entirely.

Levels four through six constituted the middle stage of Qi Refinement; levels seven through ten were the late stage. After reaching the tenth level, one entered the peak of Qi Refinement and could attempt to break through to Foundation Establishment—but this too required greater quantities of heavenly and earthly spiritual energy, or the breakthrough would likely fail.

But spirit veins were exceedingly rare, typically forming in famous mountains and great rivers, sometimes shifting with the tides of heavenly and earthly spiritual energy. Regions where spirit veins had never appeared were called “Spirit-Dead Zones,” while regions where spirit veins appeared and vanished intermittently were called “Spirit-Residual Zones.”

Master Chongyun specifically noted in his notes that the Huangshi City region was a well-known “Spirit-Residual Zone,” experiencing a spiritual energy tide every ten years, during which a temporary first-rank spirit vein would spontaneously form somewhere in the region. At such times, the cultivation family “Huang Family” would seize it for their own cultivation, forcing nearby townsfolk to grow “spirit rice”—a crop requiring immense spiritual energy—to aid the Huang family’s cultivation. This was the true nature of Huangshi City’s once-per-decade “Spirit Labor.”

Yet the entire Huangshi City region lay within a vast basin, surrounded on all sides by treacherous high mountains and wild, dense forests teeming with ferocious beast-beings—there were no land routes for commoners to pass through, and even low-level cultivators faced grave danger entering.

The only safe way for ordinary people and low-level cultivators to leave this region was via the Chishui River, which ran through the entire city and connected to Tongzhou in the Wu Kingdom. But the river was turbulent and deep in places, filled with fish-beasts—common boats could not navigate it. Only one cultivation faction in Huangshi City, the “Bai Zhen Pavilion,” annually deployed a specially crafted giant tower-ship to transport people in and out—though all passengers paid exorbitant fees. Master Chongyun himself had arrived in Huangshi City this way.

The book also mentioned that the “cloud pattern” Wang Yu had previously studied in the Bai Yun Scripture was actually a spirit pattern—each spirit pattern possessed a certain mysterious power. When arranged into special designs and inscribed onto objects, they became “inscription patterns” or “inscription texts,” endowing the object with incredible abilities and transforming it into a magical artifact.

Similarly, the “talismans” used by cultivators were drawn with spirit patterns known as “talisman patterns” or “talisman texts,” enabling them to activate various magical effects.

As Wang Yu read this, he couldn’t help pulling out the three yellow talismans and the “Xuan Feng Fan” from his robe, examining the identical patterns on the talismans and tracing the uneven ridges on the fan’s surface, a sudden understanding dawning in his mind.

These were all those so-called “spirit patterns.”

Additionally, the master’s notes recorded that beyond Qi Refinement and Foundation Establishment, cultivators could reach the higher realm of Golden Core—but beyond that, no further details were given, as if Master Chongyun himself knew little of the later realms.

The second half of the black leather book, as the master had said, recorded the cultivation methods for the twelve levels of Yin Water Art, ending with three medicinal formulas—one of which was Blood-Refining Decoction.

The other two formulas were called “Mu Hua Powder” and “Fugu Water.” The former was an oral medicine to regulate chaotic qi, while the latter was an extreme poison capable of dissolving flesh and even ordinary clothing into liquid.

Upon reading the description of Fugu Water’s effects, Wang Yu felt a chill run down his spine—his “master” possessed such a formula, clearly indicating he was no ordinary cultivator.

At the very end of the notes, clearly added recently, were a few final words of farewell.

They stated that he had recently sensed the Huang family probing him repeatedly, their attitude shifting—so he planned to leave Huangshi City within half a year. But if he met with misfortune during that time, he wished his body buried in a place with flowers and grass, and all his possessions to go to whoever received these notes. If the recipient was his disciple, they could use his identity token to join the Li family.

Wang Yu slowly closed the black book. The information within was abundant—he needed time to sort and digest it.

The only regret was that the book contained no records of any magical tricks—he still had no idea how cultivators actually used or controlled their spells.

He placed the black leather book on the ground before him and turned his gaze to the other pile of items nearby.

Besides the jade pendant, emerald gourd, and empty iron box left by Master Chongyun, there were three additional items: a small iron shield with a large hole in its surface, a gray cloth sack, and a thin, flesh-colored leather glove.

These three items had been found on the corpse of the Huangshi City governor; the corpse itself had been thrown directly into the bronze cauldron and reduced to ash.

Wang Yu picked up the jade pendant at random and examined it closely.

The jade was pure white, etched with simple leaf-like patterns; one side bore the character “Li,” the other the character “Clan.”

He turned it over and over, and absentmindedly waved it a few times above the ground nearby.

Suddenly, the two characters on the pendant glowed faintly white, and the dust on the ground nearby rolled rapidly away in all directions, leaving the surface unnaturally clean.

This jade pendant could be used without qi, and possessed the miraculous effect of “dust-repelling.”

Wang Yu’s heart leapt—he slipped the pendant into his robe. With this, he wouldn’t need to bathe often and still stay clean.

He then picked up the damaged iron shield. It was small and black, yet heavy in his hand, radiating a cold sensation when touched. He tapped it with his finger—it emitted a dull, resonant hum.

The material didn’t seem like ordinary steel—it appeared identical to that of the empty iron box.

Wang Yu picked up the iron box and compared the two, reaching a conclusion.

The small iron shield bore three patterns resembling “cloud patterns”—spirit patterns—while the iron box’s surface was smooth, devoid of any decorative markings.

Yet since the Huangshi City governor had used this small shield as a defensive artifact, it must be invaluable.

Thinking this, Wang Yu drew his silver slender sword and slashed at the shield over a dozen times—“clash, clash, clash”—leaving not a single mark, while his own palms stung from the impact.

Wang Yu was secretly astonished—if this material were forged into swords or blades, they would be divine-grade weapons.

He couldn’t resist swinging the small iron shield a few more times—but nothing unusual occurred. He sighed and set it down, then picked up the emerald gourd.

He gently shook it twice; a faint sloshing sound of liquid came from within, then he placed the Foundation Establishment spiritual item back on the ground and took up the thin glove.

The flesh-colored leather glove had been discovered only after he had thrown the Huangshi City governor’s corpse into the bronze cauldron—everything else had been burned to ash, yet this glove remained untouched by the flames, clearly no ordinary item.

Wang Yu slashed at it with the sharp edge of his blade—the surface left only a faint white mark, which quickly vanished, restoring itself to normal.

This miraculous property delighted Wang Yu—he slipped the glove onto his right hand. It was soft and supple, highly elastic, with no sensation of heat or discomfort.

More importantly, it resembled skin so perfectly that unless one picked up the hand and examined it closely, one could not tell it was a glove at all.

This treasure, whatever its material, was fireproof and impervious to blades and spears—he might as well practice unarmed disarmament techniques.

As for the last, unremarkable gray sack, Wang Yu found himself feeling troubled.