Chapter 68: Gazing at Apricot Blossoms Toward Penglai

The fish was seven chi four cun long, with a round head and narrow body, its tail resembling a singing snake, entirely scaleless and slippery to the touch, like a slick, greasy mud serpent.

It was one among countless White Sand Spirit Fish.

Chen Hang watched as the fish vendor easily pulled it from the living water; though it struggled fiercely, the young man pressed his hand firmly against its gill fins, and the fish stiffened, then wilted.

From start to finish.

It had never revealed any divine marvel…

Just like its ten thousand kin kept in the ponds.

What stood before him was merely an ordinary White Sand Fish.

Taking the talisman coin in hand, the young man smiled cheerfully as Chen Hang tucked the fish into his Qiankun Bag.

Today was indeed a good day’s haul—though White Sand Fish could barely be classified as spirit fish, their flesh contained little spiritual energy.

Ordinary buyers favored them for their sweet, delicate texture; even eaten raw, they offered a uniquely fresh sweetness, all to satisfy the appetite—but no matter what, they were never worth half a talisman coin.

Thinking of this,

the young man found it strange.

In the past, he always quoted high prices; only if the buyer showed genuine interest would he slowly haggle and bargain down.

Why had he just now, without hesitation,

named half a talisman coin outright?

But this regretful thought flashed through his mind and vanished quickly; he soon stopped caring.

The money and goods were settled; no amount of regret could undo it, and besides, half a talisman coin wasn’t a loss—he still made a profit.

At this moment, another regular customer, a man with a protruding belly, ambled over.

The young man had no time left for minor doubts; he quickly put on a smile and stepped forward to greet him.

Chen Hang, watching this from afar, stood silently for a moment longer before turning away.

“The supreme Dao art—Primordial Solar Divine Light—this opportunity came strangely. Was I merely lucky by accident?”

Amid the bustling streets filled with carriages and horses, Chen Hang pondered inwardly:

“Primordial Solar Divine Light has been classified as a supreme Dao art; if I truly obtain it, this will be the only supreme Dao art I possess, aside from the impossible-to-practice Extreme Light Great Escape. But supreme Dao arts are close to spiritual powers—though immensely potent, their cultivation conditions are all extremely strict, some requiring external substances as catalysts, like the Extreme Light Great Escape, which demands Dry Silver Star Ore to even begin. I only hope this Divine Light…”

At this thought, he couldn’t help but shake his head slightly.

Dry Silver Star Ore, required for the Extreme Light Great Escape, was a rare treasure of the ages, available only at price, never in stock—only high-achievers and Lianshi had the standing to bid for it.

And Primordial Solar Divine Light belonged to the same category of supreme Dao arts.

If its entry also required something like Yu Yi Fa Sui or Solar Star Essence as a catalyst, Chen Hang would have no choice but to abandon it.

While he was lost in thought, a low chuckle suddenly sounded nearby.

“So you’ve been idling here—I wondered where you’d vanished to; I even went to Red Leaf Island looking for you.”

Chen Hang stopped and turned back to see an elderly man, thin and with streaks of gray in his hair, gazing at him calmly from less than twenty paces away.

Externally, he appeared to be around sixty, dressed in a simple gray long robe, with dozens of silver-white whiskers hanging down his chin, sparse eyebrows and pale eyes, like a village private tutor—extremely poor and humble.

Yet occasional flashes of brilliance in his eyes, like streaks of lightning, carried an undeniable aura of authority, making one dare not underestimate him.

“Elder Gu Jun.”

The moment Chen Hang saw him, his pupils contracted slightly.

But he quickly suppressed the ripple within, his expression calm and composed, bowing respectfully to the elder.

“Relax—of the three Elders of Xuanzhen Sect, only I have come. Yan Feichen remains under the Sect Master’s watch, unable to leave Xiao Ganshan; the Yan family members are the same.”

Gu Jun said:

“I sensed an anomaly in your qi, and at first doubted it was you; only after carefully verifying several times did I confirm it was indeed you.”

At this, he raised his eyes to scan Chen Hang from head to toe, then suddenly reached out and seized his wrist.

With Xuan Gong to probe, a faint, barely perceptible smile appeared on his face, then he swiftly withdrew his hand.

“Indeed, you’ve reached Qi Condensation—Zhou Xingling of Baihe Cave was not mistaken.”

Gu Jun nodded in satisfaction, speaking slowly:

“Chen Hang, you lived in the sect for three years and showed not the slightest sign of a cultivator! You had no aspiration for the Dao! Yet shortly after Yan Zhen’s death, you broke through both Tai Xi and Qi Condensation realms.”

“It seems…”

Gu Jun spoke slowly, word by word: “Her death affected you deeply—and turned out to be a good thing?”

“Merely chance and circumstance.”

Chen Hang’s expression remained unchanged: “Elder, you came specially to find me—what matter do you have?”

“A few days ago, while playing Go with Jiang Gulian of Baihe Cave, I heard his disciples speak highly of you—especially Zhou Xingling, who praised you as if you were peerless under heaven and earth. He claimed you had reached Qi Condensation, possessed extraordinary spiritual powers, and had broad knowledge. I originally didn’t believe him.”

Gu Jun looked into his eyes, full of admiration:

“How many days have passed? How easily could one comprehend the Qi Condensation decree? How easily could one become a Qi Condensation cultivator?

I initially suspected you had obtained some demonic cultivation method, using a shortcut or heretical technique—but your Tai Xi clearly bears the metal sharpness of Ding Jin Zhen Qi. Now I am reassured!”

The Sanjing Lianxing Technique obtained from Wei Lingjiang could mimic the qi signatures of all things perfectly, indistinguishable—even cultivators several major realms above, unless possessing true spiritual powers and personally probing, could never detect the deception.

These past days, as Chen Hang traveled among the various Puyu isles, he had used Sanjing Lianxing to alter his Tai Xi, transforming it into the Ding Jin Zhen Qi signature.

Fortunately, he had taken this precaution—otherwise, Gu Jun’s sudden probe would have exposed his true qi foundation.

…

“If I had truly practiced a demonic quickening method instead of comprehending Ding Jin Zhen Qi, Elder, how would you deal with me?”

Though suddenly tested, Chen Hang remained calm, asking one more question.

“If you practice demonic heresies, you are a demonic cultivator—though Yan Feichen may not kill you, I will never allow you to live!”

Gu Jun’s eyes flared sharply, his killing intent icy and chilling, making one’s entire body tremble.

“But…”

He softened his tone, then chuckled lightly: “Since you’ve cultivated Ding Jin Zhen Qi and are not a demonic cultivator, I have a stroke of fortune to bestow upon you.”

He placed his hand on Chen Hang’s shoulder, and in a single blink, both vanished from their spot.

In a nearby teahouse,

Wei Lingjiang instinctively rose to her feet; beneath her veil, her clear, water-like eyes narrowed slightly, her expression growing more serious.

“Has the son-in-law brother not finished talking with that skinny old man yet? I’ve already eaten my eighteenth baozi—if I eat one more, my stomach might burst!”

Beside Wei Lingjiang, Qingzhi, her mouth full of grease, lifted her head and spoke in a muffled voice:

“His room is right next to yours, Miss. Go back. Don’t keep watching. If you really want to see him, I can pick the lock for you. If you’re generous with money later, I can even stand guard while you sneak out at night…”

After saying this, she surprisingly received no beating.

Qingzhi, unaccustomed to this, belched, and looked up in confusion.

She looked.

Where Chen Hang and Gu Jun had stood—there was now only empty space.

“Oh no! The son-in-law has been kidnapped by the evil old man! Miss, go rescue him!”

Qingzhi gasped in alarm, forgetting even the last deer-meat baozi she’d saved:

“If he dies, won’t Miss become a widow-in-waiting? Wait—is that the right term? Widow-in-waiting?”

Bang!

A pale, petite fist slammed hard against her head.

Qingzhi yelped in pain, immediately hunched over, clutching her head, tears welling in her eyes.

“That’s… that’s better! I knew today felt off—Miss hadn’t hit me! Hehehehehe!”

Qingzhi rubbed her swollen head, secretly laughing triumphantly inside.

Her shout had nearly shattered the roof, drawing the attention of everyone in the teahouse toward this secluded corner.

What they saw:

A slender woman, wearing a white veil and a light gauze mask, stood gracefully, her slender waist and tall figure like a spring willow washed by water, exuding an indescribable elegance.

Even without seeing her face, she was as pure and beautiful as jade among blossoms.

Some bold men straightened their robes, ready to approach—but when her cold gaze swept over them, an inexplicable dread rose in their hearts, and they shrank back in fear.

“Let’s go.”

Wei Lingjiang’s voice was cool; she stepped out of the teahouse first.

The girl reluctantly wrapped her final deer-meat baozi in oil paper, tucked it carefully into her clothes, then drained every last drop of tea from the table.

Only then did she grin mischievously at the crowd in the teahouse.

Bouncing and skipping, she trotted off on her short legs, pattering after her mistress.

…

On both sides of the street stood teahouses, inns, stone workshops, pawnshops, shops, animal markets, and bookstores.

This islet was named Jiyan Island, its terrain high; from afar, the surrounding fields showed scattered strange peaks and jagged rocks, sharp and spiky like bamboo shoots.

Qingzhi wandered aimlessly with Wei Lingjiang along the market, bored, not knowing where they were headed; a small green bell hung at her waist, tinkling with every breeze, like some disordered music.

“Miss, any news on the Evil Anger Yin Sheng Demon?”

Wei Lingjiang shook her head.

“You’ve spent days searching through archives, asking around—still no trace of its true form?” Qingzhi stared.

Wei Lingjiang said nothing.

“Do you think Ai Jian will ever be allowed back into Yucheng Sect after committing such a grave offense?”

Seeing her mistress showed little interest in this topic, Qingzhi sighed like an old woman and changed the subject.

“I don’t know.”

“Miss, do you still remember that boy from the Huai Shui Xie clan in our sect? I heard he and Sima Fang made a deadly challenge, but before they even fought, your master slapped both of them flying—hahaha!”

Qing Zhi burst into laughter, then sighed with regret:

“Actually, I really hoped Sima Fang would get killed. Among the Twelve Great Clans, Sima is the most annoying. Even that little Xie kid isn’t worth my attention—I’d love to punch Sima Fang to death.”

“…”

“I heard the Dragon Palace in the Eastern Sea is about to choose a son-in-law again—those old eels are just desperate to marry off their daughters!”

“…”

“I’m an idiot!” Qing Zhi suddenly stuck her hands on her hips.

Wei Lingjiang stopped walking and finally gave a soft “hmm.”

“You’re a big idiot!”

Qing Zhi rolled her eyes: “Stop pretending. If you want to see him, just go. Miss, you’re so awkward! Is your brain made of wood? Did you hit your head as a child and go dumb? You’ve only met him a few times—why are you so concerned?”

“I…” Wei Lingjiang frowned slightly and instinctively defended herself:

“I’m not! It’s just—he still owes me a favor. If he dies, won’t all my effort before be wasted?”

She fell silent, only nodding lightly.

“Ah yes yes yes, you’re right about everything! Your mouth’s the only thing tough on your whole body!”

Qing Zhi sneered sideways: “Has he cast some spell on you? You’ve always treated everyone in the sect coldly, with a frosty face. Was it because they were too eager for your attention—or is it because Chen Hang treats you too coldly, and you find it intriguing simply because you’ve never seen anything like it?”

“I…”

Wei Lingjiang shook her head, a hint of helplessness crossing her exquisite face.

She had recently been tracking the movements of the Evil Anger Yin Sheng Demon, poring over countless scrolls and stories, and had quietly formed a suspicion.

Chen Hang’s cultivation of the “Great Formless Constant Realm True Qi,” combined with the “Ten Thousand Li Illuminating Talisman” granted by the Dao Lord, might, in some sense, become the key to breaking the deadlock.

Yet these past days, she had never spoken to Chen Hang.

When they occasionally met, she pretended not to hear his greetings.

Now, suddenly needing his help…

Wei Lingjiang didn’t know how to begin, and stubbornly refused to think about it.

She couldn’t act like Chen Hang, who treated everything as if nothing had happened.

This was merely the surface excuse.

As for the small, hidden feeling deep inside…

Even Wei Lingjiang herself…

It seemed…

She couldn’t quite explain it…

Beside her, Qing Zhi kept chattering.

Wei Lingjiang suddenly reached out, snatched a paper-wrapped package from Qing Zhi’s arms, and shoved the deer-meat bun Qing Zhi had saved for a midnight snack into her mouth, biting down hard!

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

Qing Zhi fell silent, staring in disbelief. Enraged, her head spun, and she reeled backward as if about to faint.

“Come on. Let’s go find him.”

Wei Lingjiang’s cheeks puffed slightly, her voice muffled as she chewed, like a rabbit frantically gnawing a radish, her face expressionless.

“Huh… so I can watch the show again?”

Qing Zhi beamed, and in an instant, her dizziness vanished.

“If he gets hurt, he won’t be able to repay his debt to me—otherwise, I wouldn’t care whether he lives or dies!”

Wei Lingjiang’s expression was calm.

“Jie jie jie jie, yes, exactly right—that’s the spirit! Talking tough while thinking the opposite—your mouth’s the only tough thing on your whole body!”

Qing Zhi stuck her hands on her hips and laughed wildly.

The next moment, a slender hand grabbed her ear and dragged her forward.

…

…

Jiyan Island.

In the main hall of a tavern.

Chen Hang and Gu Jun sat facing each other when suddenly Gu Jun set down his wine cup and spoke:

“After the Abyss expedition, leave the Xuanzhen Sect. I’ll explain everything to the Sect Master.”

“What?”

Chen Hang was startled, staring in shock at the thin, weathered old man across from him.

“Join the White Crane Cave. Become Zhou Xingling’s junior disciple.”

Gu Jun acted as if he didn’t notice Chen Hang’s gaze and continued:

“I’ve already spoken to Jiang Gulian—he’s a kind elder, and he’s agreed to take you as his final disciple.”

…

…