Chapter Eighty One

Outside the palace, two figures approached one after another.

The young man in front was slender and graceful in build. His robe of shark-silk gauze was light and flowing. A silk cord gathered it at the waist, tassels hanging from the end, swaying as he walked along with the Soul-Capturing Bell.

Yún Sōng stood rooted to the spot, eyes glazed and expression blank, his mind entirely empty. Over the past two months, he had gone to Wangxian Peak every day to deliver medicine, and had seen Chú Róng every single day.

Yet the very first moment he looked at Chú Róng, he was still inevitably struck by that powerful blow to the senses — so much so that he barely even noticed the tall man behind Chú Róng, whose towering presence was as heavy and overwhelming as a mountain range.

The expressions on the faces of Jìn Tuò and the others were identical to Yún Sōng's. Both times they had encountered Chú Róng before, it had been only a fleeting glance — they had not dared to look for long. This was the first time they were seeing Chú Róng's face clearly.

No wonder.

The whole group of them wore a dazed, transfixed look, swallowing unconsciously. No wonder the Immortal Venerable kept the young master hidden away as though guarding his very eyes. A face and bearing so ethereally, magnificently beautiful was truly a rarity in the world. Anyone would want to build a gilded cage and shut him away, keeping him entirely to themselves, not allowing any outsider to catch even the smallest glimpse.

Inside the main hall, it was as if someone had pressed the pause button. Every single person there stared blankly at the young man who had entered — not one of them spoke.

An unusual silence spread through the hall.

Since beginning to cultivate, Chú Róng's five senses had sharpened considerably. Noticing the strange atmosphere in the hall, he knitted his brows slightly in puzzlement. He bent forward in a bow, clasping his hands toward Jìn Tuò and the others, and expressed his sincere gratitude: "Thank you all for your assistance. Chú Róng is deeply grateful."

His words fell, and the hall was still silent. Everyone stared at him without moving, like a row of statues.

The puzzlement in Chú Róng's heart deepened. He pressed his lips together slightly. The vivid rose of his lips — more luminous than ever — sent a tightening through the throats of Jìn Tuò and the others, and they drew involuntary sharp breaths.

"Jìn Tuò." A cold, steady voice suddenly rang through the hall, like a plunge into icy water, pressing down on everyone's nerves.

A chill crept up Jìn Tuò's back. He jolted back to himself, quickly lowered his head not daring to look any further, stepped down from his seat, and returned the bow respectfully: "The young master's talent is extraordinary. To have been of some assistance to the young master is the honor of all of Qīngxū Sect."

Yún Sōng and the others came to their senses as well, rising from their seats one by one in a respectful bow, and warmly invited Chú Róng to take a seat: "Mutual aid among members of the same sect is only natural. Young master, please, take the seat of honor."

When had he become a member of Qīngxū Sect?

Chú Róng turned the thought over briefly, and let his eyes drift sideways to the man beside him. Ning Yuan appeared not to notice the question in his gaze at all, and extended a large palm to wrap around his cool, jade-white fingers, leading him to take his seat.

Jìn Tuò and the others did not return to their seats, but each retrieved a superior-grade spiritual treasure from their storage artifacts, and presented them before Chú Róng, saying in unison: "Congratulations to the young master on successfully drawing qi, and on breaking through all the way to the Great Completion of the Golden Core in a single session!"

Chú Róng had read the original novel and knew how rare superior-grade spiritual treasures were. Some of the lower-ranked sects among the Hundred Immortal Sects did not possess even a single superior-grade artifact, and even certain mid-ranked sects had only one or two. Jìn Tuò and the others had produced over a dozen at once — truly worthy of the foremost sect, with resources to spare.

"I appreciate your kindness." Chú Róng gave a slight shake of his head. His gaze passed lightly over the pile of artifacts, not a trace of covetousness in his eyes: "But I cannot accept them."

One should not receive what one has not earned. When it came down to it, his acquaintance with the people of Qīngxū Sect was still shallow. Such precious artifacts were not meant for him.

Moreover, Ning Yuan had already given him many artifacts before, of even higher grade than these. He had no use for so many.

A flash of anxiety crossed Jìn Tuò's face. He asked cautiously: "Does the young master perhaps dislike these artifacts?"

"That's not it." Chú Róng shook his head, about to continue — when Ning Yuan gave his slender fingers a light squeeze, and said in a low voice: "Accept them. It is their goodwill."

"Please accept them, young master." Jìn Tuò followed this up with firm conviction.

"Please accept them, young master." Yún Sōng and the others echoed in agreement.

With the conversation having come this far, it would have been ungracious for Chú Róng to refuse further. He accepted the spiritual treasures and thanked everyone once more.

"The young master need not stand on ceremony." Jìn Tuò and the others resumed their seats one by one. To be honest, they felt some shame — from the first day Chú Róng had arrived at Qīngxū Sect, they should have come bearing welcome gifts. But fearing they would interrupt the young master's detoxification, they had not dared to go to Wangxian Peak uninvited, and so two months had passed before they formally met him.

With Chú Róng's talent, he would have been treated as an irreplaceable treasure in any sect among the Hundred Immortal Sects. In Jìn Tuò's eyes, these superior-grade artifacts still fell far short of what Chú Róng deserved.

But though Jìn Tuò was the sect leader, many of the sect's resources were not his to freely distribute. His own private stores had been reduced to almost nothing through his habit of rewarding outstanding disciples — and these were the highest-grade treasures he could currently offer.

If only the cultivation world could produce another secret realm somewhere — he would certainly go and claim several artifacts to add to the gift, to give to the young master along with the rest.

……Hold on!

Something occurred to Jìn Tuò all of a sudden, and his eyes lit up with a burst of brightness: "Speaking of which — yesterday, a disciple stationed outside the sect brought back a piece of confidential news. It seems a secret realm may be appearing soon."

"Is that so?" Yún Sōng and the others all turned to look at Jìn Tuò in unison, a barely concealed excitement in their eyes.

Secret realms invariably contained abundant resources, and with the cultivation world's current scarcity, any cultivator worth their salt would want to enter one and claim a share. Qīngxū Sect was no exception — and given its overwhelming strength, whenever a secret realm appeared in the cultivation world, Qīngxū Sect always claimed the lion's share of whatever lay within.

This was one of the reasons why Qīngxū Sect's resources far surpassed those of other sects. And given that the sect had both a Nascent Soul and a Mahayana cultivator at its core, no other sect dared to voice a single complaint.

"Whether the news is true or false is still unknown." Jìn Tuò stroked his chin, thinking aloud: "We've only heard that it may be a once-in-a-millennium secret realm."

A once-in-a-millennium secret realm?

Something stirred in Chú Róng's heart. He thought of a secret realm from the original novel — the Dragon Vein Ancient Land.

The Dragon Vein Ancient Land was an ancient place encircled by dragon veins. The terrain was ringed by mountains that rose like the spines of dragons. The mountains were saturated with vast amounts of spiritual energy, and anyone who entered would be sensed by the dragon veins.

Hidden within the ancient land were countless cultivation resources and endless opportunities of all sizes that could help cultivators quickly advance in their cultivation stages. The greatest opportunity of all was the breath of the ancient true dragon.

Dragon breath was supremely potent, containing spiritual power of inconceivable magnitude — hundreds of times purer than the spiritual energy of the cultivation world. It was said that a single strand of dragon breath could advance a cultivator's stage by at least one full level in an extremely short time, equivalent to decades or even a century of ordinary cultivation.

How could such a treasure not drive people to madness?

And so, in the original novel, the moment news of the Dragon Vein Ancient Land spread, the Hundred Immortal Sects stirred into motion all at once, all of them scrambling for the dragon breath.

In the end, the dragon breath was Cen Yan's greatest opportunity — and it naturally fell into his hands. By absorbing the dragon breath, Cen Yan vaulted into the Nascent Soul stage, becoming the youngest Nascent Soul great cultivator the cultivation world had ever seen.

But the Dragon Vein Ancient Land was only supposed to appear in the later part of the original novel. Its emergence now seemed far too early.

Had the original novel's plot advanced ahead of schedule?

No — wait.

Chú Róng recalled everything that had happened since he transmigrated. The original plot had already long since veered off course: he had been caught up in events and kidnapped into the secret realm by demon clan spies; Qingyang Heavenly Sect's mountain protection array had activated ahead of time; Xú Zǐyáng — one of the original male leads — had actually turned his attention to him, a cannon-fodder gong; and above all, the original host — who in the original novel had never once been mentioned as having been framed.

Looked at this way, the Ancient Land appearing early too seemed perfectly plausible.

"What is it?" Noticing the shift in Chú Róng's expression, Ning Yuan leaned his head down slightly and murmured near his ear.

"Nothing." It was not yet certain whether the secret realm was the Dragon Vein Ancient Land, and Chú Róng did not want to jump to conclusions. He thought for a moment, then looked toward Jìn Tuò below: "Sect Master Jìn, if any further news about the secret realm comes in, would you let me know? Of course, if it's inconvenient…"

"Not at all, not at all." Jìn Tuò raised his head. His eyes met the glistening gaze Chú Róng turned on him. His chest gave a hitch, and his breathing became involuntarily lighter: "The disciples outside the sect are still investigating. The moment there is any news, we will certainly inform the young master."

"Thank you." Chú Róng gave a nod. His hair slid down along the line of his neck, which was as white and long as snow.

—

At that same moment.

At Tiānjī Sect, two yellow-robed disciples stood trembling outside the main hall, intelligence report in hand, not sure whether to go in or stay out.

These past few days, the Sect Master's temper had grown increasingly unpredictable. He flew into a rage at the slightest provocation, reducing the entire sect's disciples to a state of unease and constant anxiety.

"What are you dithering about? Get in here." An impatient voice came from inside the hall. The two disciples' hands gave a jolt, and they hurriedly entered.

"Sect… Sect Master." The disciple forced down his fear, and held out the intelligence report with both hands.

"Speak." Hè Tíng glanced sideways at the disciple who had spoken. The warmth that was usually present on his handsome, gentle face was nowhere to be seen, leaving an expression that made one not even dare to breathe.

The disciple dared not refuse to answer, and reported honestly: "Disciples stationed outside the sect have caught wind of something — it seems a secret realm may be appearing soon."

In nearly a hundred years, the cultivation world's resources had grown more and more scarce, and it had been many years since a secret realm had appeared.

Hè Tíng opened the intelligence report and skimmed through it at a glance. The shadow cleared entirely from his face. He bent a finger and tapped it lightly against the surface of the writing desk: "This news hasn't leaked out yet, has it?"

"It has not." The disciple replied.

"Keep it quiet for now — do not inform the Hundred Immortal Sects." Hè Tíng narrowed his eyes. His voice was low and smooth as the finest silk-wrapped jade: "Draft a letter on my behalf and send it to Qīngxū Sect. I wish to make a deal with Sect Master Jìn."

If he could not go to the mountain, then let the mountain come to him.

Trading a secret realm for a person — no matter how you looked at it, it was a favorable bargain. Qīngxū Sect surely could not refuse.

—

Qīngxū Sect had a large number of disciples outside the sect, and word of the secret realm soon reached the sect.

The moment Jìn Tuò received the message, he relayed it to Chú Róng by sound transmission.

Chú Róng was practicing his techniques. He listened to the message to the end, his dense lashes drooping. His lips parted slightly, and he let out a quiet breath: "So it really is."

The Dragon Vein Ancient Land had truly appeared early.

"What is it?" Ning Yuan extended his long arms and closed them around Chú Róng from behind. His gaze fell on the side of the young man's snow-white neck — on the smooth, jade-like skin, the lingering marks lay like red plum blossoms fallen in snow, vivid enough to make one's vision swim.

Ning Yuan's eyes darkened. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the marks, placing them precisely over each one.

Chú Róng's whole body gave an instinctive tremor, and the flush at the corners of his eyes deepened into an alluring crimson.

作者有話說：

Sorry for the long wait~