After putting the unexpected search for his parents behind him, Xie Liufeng and Chu Xinghui refocused on the question of “where to go.”

Xie Liufeng took out a compass-like artifact, and after infusing it with spiritual energy, the pointer began to swing back and forth from southeast to southwest.

He asked Chu Xinghui for his opinion: “Should we go east or west?”

Chu Xinghui had a sudden flash of insight and realized the scene before him felt very familiar.

He silently handed Xie Liufeng a copper coin.

Xie Liufeng took the copper coin, suddenly understanding Chu Xinghui’s meaning, and lightly tossed it.

With a “ding” sound, the coin landed with the heads side up.

Xie Liufeng nodded in satisfaction: “Let’s go, we’re heading east.”

*

Xie Liufeng’s compass wasn’t very reliable, sometimes working well, sometimes not at all, and occasionally leading them the wrong way.

After more than two months of intermittent searching, they finally found a specific area and arrived at Yongning City, near the East Sea.

Yongning City was the largest city along the East Sea in the cultivation world. Relying on its geographical location, the city had long been a hub for coastal products and sea beast-related materials, with many merchants passing through.

It was almost midnight, but the city was still brightly lit.

According to the compass’s instructions, the item Xie Liufeng was looking for should be nearby.

Xie Liufeng looked distantly at the city, suddenly saying: “This city has been built quite impressively.”

Chu Xinghui asked: “Have you been here before?”

Xie Liufeng began recalling: “Last time I came, there was no Yongning City. The area was just a few scattered fishing villages. I remember back then, the sea was full of sea beasts. I heard there were many fish, so I came to fish for a few years. But those beasts looked like fish but had no fishy taste when cooked—such a waste of my good bait.”

Chu Xinghui’s eyes turned towards him: “…Yongning City has been established for over six hundred years. The sea beasts wreaked havoc over seven hundred years ago.”

Xie Liufeng seemed not to catch his meaning, smiling and playing dumb: “Hmm, our little Xinghui is really good at history.”

“And also…” Chu Xinghui felt speechless: “I didn’t even know you fished while using bait.”

Xie Liufeng: “…”

He grabbed Chu Xinghui’s hair and ruffled it, intending to change the subject: “Alright, let’s head into the city.”

Chu Xinghui sighed, fixing his messed-up hair, and walked into the city with him.

*

The night market in the city was still open, but it was already late, with only a few scattered people strolling around, giving the streets a somewhat dimmed, lantern-lit feel.

The two walked along the street, and Chu Xinghui suddenly smelled a familiar sweet fragrance.

There was a vendor selling snacks by the side of the road, with freshly made candied hawthorns on display.

Chu Xinghui glanced at the stall, then looked up at Xie Liufeng.

Xie Liufeng understood his meaning and couldn’t resist teasing him: “Eating something sweet at night, aren’t you afraid of tooth decay?”

Chu Xinghui continued to look at him, expressionless, tugging at his sleeve.

Xie Liufeng surrendered: “Alright, alright.”

He quickly walked up to the stall and bought a bag of candied hawthorns.

While the vendor was packing, Xie Liufeng thought for a moment and casually asked: “Has anything unusual happened in Yongning City recently?”

At this hour, business was slow, and the vendor was happy to chat with the customer: “Unusual? You must be asking about the latest gossip in the city, right? Is it about the city lord’s son who recently married his husband, or the Great East Pearl sold by Wanbao Trading Company?”

Xie Liufeng shook his head: “Not those… has there been anything unusual in the nearby sea?”

The vendor thought for a moment and shook his head: “No, not really. Since Sword Sovereign cleared out the sea beasts hundreds of years ago, the sea has been calm, with almost no accidents.”

That was a good sign.

No disturbances meant that the nearby seals hadn’t been compromised.

The vendor, seeing their clearly foreign clothes, sensed a business opportunity and proactively offered: “Are you planning to go out to sea? I know a few merchants who might be able to help you with connections if you’re passing through.”

Xie Liufeng took the paper bag and politely declined: “No need. Thank you for the information. Wishing you good business.”

Chu Xinghui stood to the side, quietly waiting for Xie Liufeng to come back to him.

Xie Liufeng handed him the paper bag: “For you.”

Chu Xinghui opened it, picked the one with the most sugar coating, and silently offered it to Xie Liufeng.

Xie Liufeng froze for a moment, then bent down slightly and took the red fruit from Chu Xinghui’s fingertips.

He smiled, glancing at Chu Xinghui: “Hmm, it’s indeed very sweet.”

Chu Xinghui felt as though his fingertip had been burned for a moment and calmly withdrew his hand.

Under the cover of the night, no one could see the brief moment of awkwardness on his face.

The two of them walked side by side down the long street.

Xie Liufeng fiddled with his compass out of boredom, watching the needle spin aimlessly like a headless fly, then put it away.

Chu Xinghui asked him: “The thing you wanted to recover, is it that ‘name’ from the wooden building last time?”

Xie Liufeng didn’t hide it: “Very sharp. That thing was originally well-sealed, and if left for a few more centuries, it would have been dissipated. But unfortunately, recently someone has been targeting it, so I had to dig it out early and destroy it manually.”

Chu Xinghui was somewhat curious: “This matter… can I ask about it?”

Xie Liufeng chuckled and shook his head: “Just some old trivial matters, what’s so forbidden about it? But it’s a bit far for you, so I didn’t tell you before.”

“Or rather, very few people would tell you new cultivators these things… After all, things like a target need to be perfect and flawless to fully stimulate the desire to get close.”

He looked at Chu Xinghui, asking him: “Now that we have time, I can tell you, are you sure you want to listen?”

Chu Xinghui thought for a moment and nodded seriously.

Xie Liufeng asked him: “Cultivating to the end means ascending to become a god or an immortal, but do you know how long it’s been since anyone in the cultivation world ascended?”

Chu Xinghui had read some records in the cultivation world’s history books and vaguely recalled some details: “About two thousand years ago… the last person to ascend did so more than 1,900 years ago. Most people speculate that the concentration of spiritual energy in the cultivation world has decreased significantly over the last two thousand years, making cultivation more difficult for practitioners now.”

“Mm, these are the common records, as ascension indeed seems more distant from cultivators now. There must be a reasonable explanation for it.” Xie Liufeng stretched out his finger and gathered a bit of the spiritual energy in the air: “But in reality, the concentration of spiritual energy in the cultivation world today is no different from two thousand years ago.”

“The difference lies in the world’s fortune.”

Fortune was something invisible and intangible. Its role might just be allowing someone to avoid a dark street when walking home at night, or it might help someone escape a choice that would lead to certain death.

Xie Liufeng continued: “I remember you really admire Sword Sovereign, so you should know that five hundred years ago, there was an event known as the ‘Divine Descent,’ right?”

Chu Xinghui nodded: “Five hundred years ago, someone from the higher realms descended to this world.”

This was actually quite a strange event, as the passage from the lower realm to the higher realms was one-way. By logic, people from the higher realms should not interfere with the lower realms’ order.

But whether it was the God or Sword Sovereign, they were too far removed from ordinary people’s lives. Most records regarding the event of Sword Sovereign killing the God five hundred years ago were vague and mixed with either positive or negative speculation from the writers.

Xie Liufeng casually said: “The ‘God’ who descended to the cultivation world wasn’t really a God. It was a being with a divine body but no divine name.”

“A divine body but no divine name… this kind of ‘God’ doesn’t seem to be the product of a legitimate heavenly order. So, to obtain a divine name, this ‘god’ focused its intentions on this world, drawing upon the world’s fortune and using forbidden techniques to sacrifice a destined son of heaven, one who would ascend and become a god, in hopes of taking his place and creating a divine name.” He skipped over the details of this part and continued: “What happened afterward, you already know. He failed and was killed. The world’s lost fortune began to slowly repair itself over time. In the last five hundred years, there have been predecessors on the brink of ascension in the cultivation world, but still no one has chosen to ascend.”

Chu Xinghui vaguely understood his point: “…Because something went wrong in the higher realms?”

Xie Liufeng nodded and looked at him again: “Now that you know this, will you still continue cultivating with the same determination as before?”

Chu Xinghui was a bit stunned and took some time to process the information before nodding: “Yes.”

Knowing that the path ahead was difficult only meant he could not give up on strengthening himself.

Xie Liufeng couldn’t hold his serious expression anymore and suddenly laughed: “Alright, I’m done telling the story. Let me see how much of it you believed.”

Chu Xinghui: “…”

He didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

Xie Liufeng had his fun and continued walking ahead with him.

Chu Xinghui walked behind him, looking at his back.

Although Xie Liufeng didn’t speak much of the truth, Chu Xinghui could guess that his real age was far older than his appearance suggested.

This person usually acted carelessly, and it was rare for anyone to sense the concept of “time” about him. But when he spoke about stories that spanned hundreds of years, those years truly existed within his life.

Chu Xinghui didn’t quite like that feeling.

It was as if Xie Liufeng had already experienced many long years before he even noticed, and those years were beyond his reach, something he could never participate in.

He tugged on Xie Liufeng’s sleeve and asked: “How old are you, really?”

Xie Liufeng turned around and thought for a moment: “Let me think… as an ordinary person without spiritual power, I should look about twenty-something, so let’s say I’m twenty-five.”

Chu Xinghui, for the umpteenth time, felt that talking to Xie Liufeng was a mistake.

…

The two of them rested in the city overnight. The next morning, Xie Liufeng led Chu Xinghui back to the East Sea.

They searched along the coast for two days, and Xie Liufeng finally stopped at a particular spot.

He took a dagger, cut his palm, and took out the compass again, dripping his blood onto it.

Chu Xinghui furrowed his brow, instinctively wanting to stop him, but seeing the rare serious expression on Xie Liufeng’s face, he held back and just silently watched.

Soon, a vortex of spiritual energy appeared on the surface of the sea in front of them.

Xie Liufeng put away the compass and returned to his usual relaxed demeanor: “This should be the place. Let’s go in.”

Chu Xinghui glanced at him and reminded him: “Your wound.”

Xie Liufeng blinked: “What?”

Chu Xinghui didn’t bother waiting for him to react and directly grabbed his hand.

Xie Liufeng usually didn’t care much about small injuries, and if Chu Xinghui didn’t step in, he’d probably just let it heal on its own, like last time.

Xie Liufeng looked down at him and smiled: “Our little Xinghui really cares about me, huh?”

Chu Xinghui didn’t want to bother with him for now. He didn’t respond and carefully treated the wound.

Xie Liufeng pretended to tease him: “Alright, if you don’t listen to me today, I can’t even imagine what you’ll do tomorrow.”

Chu Xinghui thought for a moment and casually said: “Right, tomorrow I’ll imprison you and wipe out your entire sect.”

Xie Liufeng imagined it for a moment and thought it sounded quite interesting. He asked eagerly: “Imprison me, then what?”

Chu Xinghui: “…”

He hadn’t thought it through, so he fell silent for a while, then glanced meaningfully at Xie Liufeng before walking ahead.

Xie Liufeng chuckled behind him and quickly followed.

Before entering the vortex, Xie Liufeng grabbed Chu Xinghui’s arm.

He gave a serious warning: “If we get separated, make sure to find me first. If you’re drawn to any other kind of energy, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get to you in time.”

Chu Xinghui paused for a moment, unsure of how to express his feelings: “Is there… a part of your bones inside here?”

Xie Liufeng seemed a bit uncertain: “Maybe?”

Chu Xinghui nodded: “If there is, I’ll help you retrieve it.”

Xie Liufeng, worried about a repeat of what had happened last time, seriously corrected him again: “The first thing you should do after entering is to retrieve me, not anything else.”

The two exchanged glances for a moment.

Chu Xinghui reluctantly agreed with a sigh: “Alright.”

Xie Liufeng ruffled his hair and, still holding his hand, led him into the vortex.

…

After a moment of disorientation, Chu Xinghui opened his eyes once again.

What greeted him was a long stone corridor, flanked by candles that burned neither wet nor out. The air carried the salty tang of seawater, and the edges of the path were covered in moss.

In the distance, a stone door could be seen, with some mechanisms placed beside it.

Xie Liufeng was no longer beside him, which confirmed that they had indeed been separated.

As Chu Xinghui was surveying the area, he suddenly heard a soft and gentle voice from behind him: “Cultivator Xie? What a coincidence, I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

An ominous premonition rose in Chu Xinghui’s heart.

Sure enough, as he turned around, he saw Qin Yuwen standing alone.

Dressed in a wide white robe, he looked clean and delicate, exuding an air of pitiable frailty.

Chu Xinghui couldn’t understand why this person seemed to appear everywhere.

It was as if his presence was a lingering ghost that refused to dissipate.

He greeted him politely: “Cultivator Qin, how come you’re here?”

Qin Yuwen seemed a bit surprised and lowered his voice in delight: “Ah, so you know my name. In that case, does that mean we’re friends now?”

Chu Xinghui paused for a moment, pondering his words before honestly replying: “It seems Cultivator Qin has a rather loose definition of what it means to be friends.”

Qin Yuwen nearly lost his smile at that remark, almost looking embarrassed.

He took a deep breath, shifting the topic: “I was just at the auction in Yongning City with my junior disciples when we came across a spiritual vortex nearby. We decided to investigate, but as soon as we entered, we were separated.”

Chu Xinghui’s gaze grew colder.

So it was Qin Yuwen who had entered through the portal Xie Liufeng had opened.

This place was deserted—no one else would have chosen to wander around at this time. It seemed Qin Yuwen had a knack for showing up at just the right moment when Xie Liufeng opened the portal.

Qin Yuwen moved closer to Chu Xinghui, his tone filled with an unwarranted familiarity: “At first, I was a bit scared when I got separated from my companions, but now that I’ve encountered Cultivator Xie, I feel much more at ease.”

Chu Xinghui felt a sense of bad luck wash over him.

And then, he couldn’t help but ask in a somewhat subtle manner: “I remember that the disciples of Lingxiang Sect are still investigating the matters regarding the last secret realm. Cultivator Qin, aren’t you involved?”

Qin Yuwen’s smile faltered even further: “Well… it’s true that one of my sect’s disciples went astray, and we’ve already dealt with the issue some time ago. After resolving that matter, my junior disciples and I came to Yongning City to relax.”

The excuse of “one of the disciples” was all too convenient—a common tactic used by major sects to quickly distance themselves from a situation.

Chu Xinghui had been busy searching for things with Xie Liufeng and hadn’t had the time to get to the bottom of the matter. So, he decided to hold off on any judgments for the moment.

Seeing that Chu Xinghui wasn’t moved, Qin Yuwen sighed and turned his gaze back to him, his eyes softening: “It seems Cultivator Xie has some misunderstandings about me.”

Chu Xinghui, confused, asked: “What does that mean? I’ve only met Cultivator Qin a few times and we haven’t had any special interactions, so where could these misunderstandings come from?”

A hint of hurt flickered across Qin Yuwen’s gaze: “I really want to get closer to Cultivator Xie.”

Chu Xinghui: “…”

He recalled Xie Liufeng’s warnings before entering and decided to ignore Qin Yuwen for now, heading off to find Xie Liufeng.

Seeing that Chu Xinghui still refused to respond, Qin Yuwen stood there awkwardly, biting his lip.

Chu Xinghui, analyzing the mechanisms on the walls, quickly figured out the general mechanism design and was about to activate the correct one when Qin Yuwen suddenly clenched his fist and decisively pushed Chu Xinghui aside.

“I’ll help you,” Qin Yuwen said, his tone firm.

Chu Xinghui’s emotions wavered as he saw Qin Yuwen’s hand move toward the mechanism. He immediately warned: “Don’t—”

But it was too late.

Qin Yuwen’s quick actions triggered the wrong mechanism, and arrows shot out from the walls in all directions.

Chu Xinghui: “…”

He couldn’t quite understand Qin Yuwen’s thought process, but out of pure instinct, he coldly kicked him aside to prevent him from being turned into a pincushion.

A quarter of an hour later, the arrows stopped.

Qin Yuwen had been injured on his shoulder and was now leaning weakly against the wall, gasping for breath.

Seeing that Qin Yuwen wasn’t in immediate danger, Chu Xinghui decided to continue ahead.

Just then, two voices called out from the nearby corridor: “Big Brother!”

Moments later, Qin Yuwen’s two junior disciples rushed over.

Mu Lingxuan, upon seeing the blood still flowing from Qin Yuwen’s wound, shot a fierce glare at Chu Xinghui and without hesitation accused him: “Was it him? Did he do this?”

Qin Yuwen furrowed his brows and quickly stepped in to defuse the situation: “Zeqing, Lingxuan, don’t misunderstand. Cultivator Xie is a righteous person. He would never do this on purpose.”

What he said was quite interesting—it sounded like he was trying to mediate between the two parties, but in reality, he was tacitly acknowledging that Chu Xinghui was the one who had caused his injury, fanning the flames of misunderstanding.

Mu Lingxuan sized Chu Xinghui up from head to toe, her voice cold: “Big Brother has a good temper, but my brother and I aren’t the same. If you don’t explain yourself today, don’t think you can leave here unharmed.”

Mu Zeqing’s gaze sharpened when he saw Chu Xinghui’s face, though he still maintained a tone of reason: “My younger sister’s temper is hot, and she speaks out of turn. I apologize on her behalf. However, Cultivator, you did indeed injure my Big Brother. This needs to be addressed.”

Chu Xinghui felt increasingly confused.

It was as if the three of them had set up their own little drama, forcing him to sit through it as the unwilling audience.

Chu Xinghui summoned his spiritual sword and calmly confirmed their thoughts: “So, you believe I hurt Qin Yuwen, right?”

Qin Yuwen’s expression remained pained, his face filled with urgency as he tried to cover up: “That’s not it… The injury on me really has nothing to do with Cultivator Xie. Don’t argue on my behalf.”

His actions only poured oil on the flames. The two siblings’ eyes burned with even more hatred as they stared at Chu Xinghui.

Mu Lingxuan, whose temper was always volatile, glared at Chu Xinghui and bluntly said: “There were only two of you here—if not you, then who else?”

Chu Xinghui was now truly annoyed. He quickly assessed the combat strength of the three in front of him.

Qin Yuwen was in the Foundation Building stage, while the brother and sister were only in the Qi Refining stage.

That made it… very much manageable.

He glanced at Qin Yuwen’s injury, selected a symmetrical spot, and suddenly drew his spiritual sword, slashing a matching wound.

Qin Yuwen grunted in pain, staring at him in disbelief.

Chu Xinghui felt a sense of satisfaction: “There, now it’s on me. Anything else you want to demand?”

Mu Zeqing quickly supported Qin Yuwen, pointing at Chu Xinghui in shock: “You—!”

Chu Xinghui’s sword flicked again, leaving a wound identical to Qin Yuwen’s on Mu Zeqing.

Then he turned his gaze toward the three of them and patiently asked: “Anyone else have something to say?”

Mu Lingxuan’s face flushed with rage as she stormed: “You… How can you be so vicious!”

Chu Xinghui showed no mercy and returned her anger with another slash: “Go ahead. I’m happy to keep going until the end.”

The siblings covered their wounds, completely silent now, fear and caution in their eyes. They no longer dared to speak up.

Qin Yuwen cast a casual glance at the two siblings, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

Such a small show of force and they were already this scared—what a bunch of useless people.

But this “Heavenly Son” seemed to have some substance to him…

Chu Xinghui wiped the blood from his sword, then raised his head, his gaze cold as he scanned the three: “I’m not interested in your affairs. If anyone else comes here to say this kind of nonsense again, it won’t be just a wound you get.”

 

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