Chapter 382

"Comrade!"

The golden-robed cultivator at Foundation Establishment eighth layer bowed again to He Pingsheng: "Within ten thousand li around Ruokai Mountain, flight is forbidden—so please don't take offense, comrade!"

He Pingsheng frowned: "Ten thousand li?"

"Yes!" The Foundation Establishment cultivator was polite: "May I ask, comrade, what brings you to Ruokai Mountain?"

"Are you here to pay respects at the sect gate?"

"Or do you have relatives within our sect?"

"Neither!" He Pingsheng shook his head: "I am headed to the Hell Abyss!"

There was no need to hide it.

The Hell Abyss stretched hundreds of li, forming a deep gorge filled with churning magma; crucially, it belonged to no faction—technically, it should be the Liang Empire's imperial property.

Anyone could go there.

Every year, countless cultivators journeyed to this place.

He Pingsheng had no reason to conceal his intent.

"Oh..." The Foundation Establishment cultivator said: "In that case... I'm sorry, you cannot fly over—it lies within the ten thousand li around Ruokai Mountain, so you may go there, but not by flight!"

He Pingsheng's face darkened.

No flight?

Make me run there?

Even with his great speed, to reach the Hell Abyss behind Ruokai Mountain, he'd have to detour around the entire mountain—meaning the distance would far exceed ten thousand li.

It could be tens of thousands of li.

Run tens of thousands of li?

That would take an eternity.

"Of course!" The Foundation Establishment cultivator said: "We can transport you there—but it will cost you."

He Pingsheng said: "No need—I'll go myself!"

"I'm leaving now!"

He Pingsheng's plan was to summon his sword again, fly beyond Ruokai Mountain's boundary, then circle around to reach the other side.

But the Foundation Establishment cultivator shook his head: "I'm sorry, comrade—flight is forbidden within ten thousand li of Ruokai Mountain!"

"We overlooked your unauthorized entry earlier since you were unaware—but now, if you wish to reach the Hell Abyss, you must leave on foot, and you may not summon your sword!"

"Only beyond ten thousand li from Ruokai Mountain may you fly again!"

He Pingsheng stared, dumbfounded.

So I can't even retrace my steps?

Only two options!

First: walk ten thousand li beyond Ruokai Mountain, then fly around—but even then, you can't fly over the final stretch, since the Hell Abyss lies within Ruokai Mountain's ten-thousand-li boundary.

Second: let them transport you—for a fee.

If it can be solved with money, no need to overthink it.

So He Pingsheng asked: "How long will it take you to take me there? How many spirit stones?"

The Foundation Establishment cultivator chuckled: "Ten thousand lower-grade spirit stones. Half an incense stick's time."

The price was steep.

Very expensive.

You could even say: outrageously gouged.

But he had no other choice.

"Deal!" He Pingsheng waved his hand and tossed ten mid-grade spirit stones to the cultivator: "Take me there!"

"Good, good, good..."

"Comrade, you're generous—then it's settled... Come, follow me!" said the Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Thus, He Pingsheng summoned his sword and followed the four Foundation Establishment cultivators across Ruokai Mountain toward the distant Hell Abyss.

But before half an incense stick had burned, just after crossing the Ruokai Mountain range, he was blocked again.

The man appeared out of nowhere, directly cutting off their path.

He Pingsheng's pupils narrowed slightly.

Because he recognized the man.

Ruokai Ancestor.

"Uncle!" The four Foundation Establishment disciples bowed respectfully to Ruokai Ancestor.

Ruokai Ancestor waved his hand: "This is none of your concern—leave. I'll handle this man."

"Yes!"

The four hurried away.

In an instant, the space was left with only He Pingsheng and Ruokai Ancestor.

"Greetings, Elder Ruokai!" He Pingsheng gave a light bow.

Courtesy first, then force!

He knew encountering Ruokai today meant trouble—but still, he'd bow first.

Deny him any opening to argue.

But He Pingsheng had vastly underestimated Ruokai's shamelessness.

Ruokai gazed coolly at He Pingsheng, a faint sneer on his face: "If I kill you here, your Nascent Soul eleventh-layer master couldn't possibly do anything to me, could he?"

He Pingsheng had no patience for his words—just three words: "I don't know."

As he spoke, he already drew a talisman.

Grade-four: Heaven-Fire Armor.

This was his second time facing a Nascent Soul cultivator—he didn't know if he could win, but he had confidence: Ruokai couldn't kill him instantly.

Good!

As long as you can't kill me in one blow, I'll test my current combat strength against you.

If I can win, I win. If not, I'll use my teleportation talisman and flee.

"I'll give you a fair deal!" Ruokai said: "Hand over your 【Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Marrow】. If I'm satisfied, you may leave."

He Pingsheng said: "Sorry, my Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Marrow was traded at the Zhongnan Dao Forum to that female Nascent Soul—you should know."

Ruokai said: "Don't play games with me—I know you're He Pingsheng, and you obtained over twenty ice marrows from the Five Dragon Gorge secret realm in the Liang imperial court."

"Hand them over!"

He Pingsheng shook his head: "Ruokai, no more talk. I know you're itching to strike."

"Let's fight first!"

"Oh?" Ruokai's eyes gleamed: "A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator dares challenge me?"

"Hahahaha..."

"You, a pitiful cultivator who barely passed the Third Nine Tribulation, think you're a peerless prodigy?"

"You dare imitate others and fight above your level?"

"True, I may not match Mi Cangyuan—but you..."

"I could crush you with just one percent of my strength!"

"Let you learn—the gap between Foundation Establishment and Nascent Soul isn't something your tiny Golden Core pathway can bridge..."

"Die..."

Boom...

In the ten-thousand-zhang void, an ice arrow instantly formed and shot downward at He Pingsheng's head with blinding speed.

The arrow was three zhang long, its tip pure white, tinged with faint blue.

Dao patterns shimmered across its surface, talismanic runes flowing.

Its overwhelming ice attribute seemed capable of piercing through all things.

Ruokai wasn't lying.

He truly used only one percent of his power.

He Pingsheng's spiritual sense was now nearly equal to Ruokai Ancestor's—perhaps even slightly stronger.

So he clearly felt the force of this strike.

"Hmph..." He smiled coldly, casually extending a finger toward the descending ice arrow.

Spiritual power condensed above his head, three zhang high, forming a black shield.

The shield appeared immensely thick, its surface flowing with intricate, mysterious talismanic Dao patterns.