Chapter 35

“It wasn’t Elder Kumu who kicked you out!”

At the front of the valley, Wang Dun walked beside He Pingsheng, comforting him as they went: “It’s because your main affinity is Fire Spirit Root—here, you’re simply not needed!”

“Don’t worry, Elder Kumu plants Yangyang Flowers every year!”

“If next year we still need disciples to tend them, I’ll definitely pick you!”

He Pingsheng smiled and said: “It’s fine… By the way, Brother Wang, your alchemy furnace…”

He pulled out the palm-sized alchemy furnace.

Wang Dun’s face twitched slightly as he said: “Brother… this thing is a low-grade magic artifact—I spent over fifty spirit stones to buy it!”

“I thought since I have Gold, Fire, and Wood Spirit Roots, I could practice alchemy and maybe become a great alchemist someday—my cultivation path would be much smoother!”

“Unfortunately, after trying a few times, I realized I just wasn’t cut out for it!”

“Sigh… such a waste of money!”

“Leave it with me for now—I’ll come back and redeem it once I have spirit stones. A true man keeps his word—I won’t break it!”

“Sigh…” Wang Dun sighed deeply again. “I should’ve sold it when I went to Mount Matou last time. But I still held onto hope, thinking one day I might become an alchemist!”

“Enough, enough—let’s not talk about it!”

Seeing Wang Dun’s determination, He Pingsheng nodded: “Alright… here’s my family’s address—just come find me when you’re ready!”

He Pingsheng gave Wang Dun a slip of paper with the address of his home in the small town at the foot of the Outer Mountain.

At the valley entrance, He Pingsheng bid farewell to Wang Dun and descended the mountain alone.

He returned to his small courtyard.

He Pingsheng shut the door and laid out all the items he’d acquired recently, taking inventory.

First!

Two spirit-nourishing scriptures—one from the demonic path, one from the orthodox Xuan Gate.

Second, two paper cranes—each can fly twelve times.

Lastly, a vial of [Yangyang Flower] pollen.

Of course, there was also the alchemy furnace—but it doesn’t belong to He Pingsheng; he can’t count it as his own.

It’s merely temporarily stored with him.

This haul was substantial.

But after checking everything, it still didn’t serve his cultivation goals.

After all, no spirit stones, no elixirs.

“The Fire-element energy of the Yangyang Flower pollen is almost gone!” He Pingsheng pulled out the jade vial, opened the lid, and sneered: “In another ten days, this will be completely useless!”

The originally crimson powder had turned somewhat pale.

Sell it now?

With this condition, even Fenghe Zhuang probably won’t take it.

Besides, I just came down from the mountain—if I rush straight to Mount Matou, Elder Kumu might get suspicious.

What if he’s watching me?

Forget it!

Too risky.

He Pingsheng stared at the pollen in his hand, thinking it might still be salvageable.

“Come on!”

He Pingsheng took out his Treasure Basin, opened the vial, and poured the entire contents into the basin.

Now came the waiting.

But while waiting, He Pingsheng wouldn’t sit idle!

Though he couldn’t cultivate the Li Huo Zhen Fa, he could still refine his spirit!

Keep going!

The next morning!

He Pingsheng pulled the Treasure Basin out from under his bed.

The previously pale powder had now changed color entirely.

Purple!

Sssss…

“This… is supreme grade?” He Pingsheng was stunned.

He’d heard Wang Dun say that Yangyang Flower quality had four grades: low-grade was crimson, mid-grade yellow, high-grade gold, and supreme grade purple.

He’d only hoped to restore its quality—never imagined he’d accidentally push it to the absolute peak.

Supreme grade!

But…

Looking at the substance in the basin, He Pingsheng hesitated.

If he brought this to Fenghe Zhuang or anywhere else, it would cause an uproar—not to mention someone might drag him off for dissection, but if word reached Elder Kumu, he’d have no explanation.

His face twisted in agony: “I’d rather have had mid-grade!”

“Forget it… stash it away first!”

He Pingsheng put the pollen back.

Originally one vial, now it filled two.

Since he couldn’t use it anyway, better to store it.

For the following time, He Pingsheng continued refining his spirit.

One day, two days, three days!

Before he knew it, four months had passed.

For four months, he did nothing but cultivate the [Xuan Gate Stillness True Scripture].

His spiritual sense had reached the fourth level of the Qi Refining chapter.

Finally caught up to his cultivation base.

Boom…

At that moment, He Pingsheng’s spiritual sense spread out like a vast net.

Where it once reached only ten zhang, now it extended thirty zhang beyond his body.

Inside the house, outside the house—all details were crystal clear.

“Huh… is it… snowing?”

He’d been so absorbed in cultivation he’d lost track of time. Opening the door, he saw snow falling heavily outside.

The ground, rooftops, distant mountains—all pure white.

“Another year’s passed,” He Pingsheng sighed, looking at himself.

He was sixteen now.

He looked nothing like the boy who’d carried water to Xiuzhu Peak two years ago.

He’d grown a full chi taller, bulkier, his face transformed from a child’s softness into the hardened features of a youth.

Anyone unfamiliar would never recognize him.

“Heh…” He Pingsheng watched the snow drift through the air, his gaze turning toward Grand Void Gate: “That Wang Dun kid—four months already, and he still hasn’t returned my spirit stones!”

“Doesn’t he want his furnace back?”

As he spoke, He Pingsheng returned inside and pulled out the two jade vials.

These vials had once held supreme grade Yangyang Flower pollen, but after four months of energy loss, its quality had dropped significantly.

Now it was yellow—likely mid-grade.

Looking at the falling snow outside, He Pingsheng decided it was time to visit Mount Matou’s marketplace.

But before leaving, he had to store all his items in the Treasure Basin.

Finally, he changed into plain clothes and removed his Grand Void Gate robe.

That way, even if trouble arose, no one would trace it back to Grand Void Gate.

Cold wind struck his face; the falling snow swirled like chaos.

He Pingsheng thought the heavy snow was perfect—it would obscure his movements.

He dared not take flight from his own courtyard; instead, he walked all the way to Hao Yun’s grave before pulling out the paper crane and activating it.

A flash of spiritual light—the paper crane instantly expanded to over a zhang in size.

He Pingsheng leapt onto its back, and with a thought of his spiritual sense, it soared upward.

The paper crane shot into the sky with a whoosh.

Looking down, He Pingsheng saw only endless white—sky and earth, blurred and chaotic.