Chapter Fifty-Two: Unexpected Occurrence

Even Meidie’s eyes revealed a trace of confusion; with all her knowledge and experience, she could not discern the origins or grade of the demonic gourd, nor did she recognize much about its materials. Perhaps it was because this was a magic artifact from the demonic path, and her ignorance was only natural. With that thought, she simply set the matter aside.

Ge Qian took Red Plum’s storage pouch and the mid-grade magic artifact. With a flick, he collected the little white fox into a spirit beast pouch, then swiftly formed hand seals, gathering up all the array flags and erasing any traces of his presence. Mounting his flying sword, he spiraled into the air and darted off in a certain direction.

He circled the back mountain in a wide arc, then returned to his cave dwelling within the medicine garden. Releasing the little white fox to tend to the herbs, he himself sat cross-legged and produced the demonic gourd. Slitting his fingertip, he let a drop of blood essence fall within, swiftly changing incantations, his ten fingers flickering in a dance as he began to reforge and consecrate the gourd.

It took Ge Qian a full three months to completely subdue the wild and violent gourd, finally wielding it as deftly as his own arm.

In the days that followed, Ge Qian set everything else aside to focus wholeheartedly on improving his cultivation, working on both the “Mountain Shifting Art” and the “Threefold Foundation Strengthening Technique.” Advancing side by side, the two disciplines complemented each other.

Two years slipped by in the blink of an eye. One day, a deep roar rang out from Ge Qian’s cave; the spiritual energy of the medicine garden was drawn by an invisible force, surging swiftly into his abode.

He could sense the rich concentration of spiritual energy within his cave, now forming a faint mist. Though the layer was thin, its purity had reached a new level.

Without hesitation, Ge Qian activated his technique, drawing the pure spiritual energy into the vortex within his dantian. The vortex’s flow became sluggish, its volume swelling to nearly double its former size. Within it, dark green specks appeared, brimming with vibrant life.

At last, the vortex abruptly stilled. After a moment, it resumed a gentle flow.

Ge Qian opened his eyes, delight lighting his heart. He had finally reached the consummate stage of the Qi Absorption Realm, now just a step away from the Foundation Establishment stage.

This gave him newfound confidence about advancing to Foundation Establishment. Calculating with his fingers, he realized there were still two months before the sect’s low-ranked disciple competition. He would give it his best effort; if he managed to enter the top ten, he would receive a Foundation Establishment Pill. Together with the one Yingxue had already given him, he would have two. If fortune favored him, there was truly a chance.

With this in mind, Ge Qian swallowed a Marrow Cleansing Pill to consolidate his cultivation. A month later, he opened his eyes once more, a bright gleam flashing within. His spiritual sense swept out, and the sights within a three-mile radius appeared vividly before him.

Satisfied, Ge Qian nodded to himself, silently marveling at how wondrous the “Threefold Foundation Strengthening Technique” had proven, giving him such a solid base. Both his magical power and spiritual sense were three times that of ordinary cultivators. Were it not for the tender leaf in his dantian, he could never have achieved such heights in his lifetime.

Moreover, the “Mountain Shifting Art” had reached the threshold of transcending the mundane, on the verge of breaking through to the next stage. Yet Ge Qian knew that although it seemed there was only a thin barrier, the divide between transcending the mundane and entering the Artisanal Law stage was vast. Without understanding its true meaning, one could not reach that realm; a rare opportunity was needed, not something that could be achieved with mere meditation and hard work.

With only a month left, Ge Qian reckoned there was not enough time to refine talisman paper or hone his sword techniques. Suddenly, inspiration struck: why not visit the Treasure Pavilion in Wuyue City to seek useful treasures and also dispose of some illicit goods? He had collected quite a few spoils from unfortunate cultivators lately, and it was not safe to keep them on hand.

The next day, Ge Qian left a few simple instructions for the little white fox and departed on his sword.

Meidie closed her eyes, silently praying her plans would succeed and that she might soon return to Ten Thousand Demon Mountain.

Leaving the Celestial Star Sect, Ge Qian sped straight for Wuyue City. With his vastly increased strength, as long as he didn’t encounter cultivators wielding superior magic artifacts, few could threaten him.

Still, he was cautious. Upon entering the mountain tribes, he landed to avoid making himself an obvious target in the sky. He also had other plans—a detour through the mundane world, which would take at least half a month round trip.

If he could gain new insights, grasp the true meaning of transcending the mundane and entering the Artisanal Law stage, it would be of immense benefit for advancing to Foundation Establishment.

He avoided desolate wilds, passing through a few small cities before arriving at Wuyue City.

One such city along the way was Ning City. Though small, it lay on a major thoroughfare and bustled with people. At the city gate, Ge Qian noticed an elderly man in pale blue Daoist robes approaching. He bore an air of immortal grace, eyes full of spirit, a floating dust whisk in hand, followed by a chubby boy of about thirteen or fourteen.

Concealing his own aura and dressed as a scholar, Ge Qian blended in perfectly with ordinary folk. At a glance, he could tell the old Daoist was a cultivator at the third layer of Qi Absorption, while the boy had only reached the first.

Just then, a sedan chair borne by four men emerged at the gate. The bearers were sturdy and experienced—clearly old hands at their trade. Leading the way was a portly middle-aged man, wiping sweat from his brow as he approached the Daoist, bowing deeply and smiling obsequiously.

“Immortal Master, you’ve finally agreed to come down the mountain and rid us of our demons and evil,” he said. “You must be weary from your journey! Please, allow us to escort you in comfort?”

The old Daoist did not reply, only stroked his beard with a mysterious air. The boy stepped forward and said, “You mundane folk are so pedantic. How could the Immortal Master feel weary on the road? He is a being of boundless power—don’t you agree?”

The fat man nodded vigorously. “Indeed, indeed! But this is merely a token of our benefactor’s goodwill. Please honor us, Immortal Master.”

At last, the Daoist replied with a hearty laugh, “Very well! Since your patron is so sincere, I shall accept. Tonight, I will dispel your demons and exorcise the evil spirits.” With that, he performed the Wind Riding Technique and with a flicker, entered the sedan.

The crowd seemed to blink and the Daoist had vanished, already settled comfortably inside. The fat man and the bearers, awed by these immortal arts, wasted no time hurrying the sedan and the boy into the city.

To Ge Qian, it was clear the old Daoist was a rogue cultivator who, unable to progress further, had lost his heart for the path and now fooled the mundane world for food and drink. What caught his true attention, however, was the fat man welcoming the Daoist; a faint aura of extreme yin lay hidden within him.

Had he not strengthened his cultivation and reforged the demonic gourd, Ge Qian would never have noticed. But now, nothing escaped his keen senses.

After careful consideration, Ge Qian resolved to investigate. The yin energy might benefit his demonic gourd. He would proceed cautiously—if things went awry, he could retreat at once. Safety was paramount; he would play it by ear.

So, unhurriedly, Ge Qian followed. The sedan made its way through several streets, finally stopping before a grand residence spanning three to four miles. The gate tower stood five zhang high, with a large gold plaque above the doors inscribed with the words “Gao Mansion” in bold, powerful strokes. The red lacquered doors swung open, and the sedan entered directly before the gates slowly closed behind.

From a distance, Ge Qian watched with a faint smile, then turned toward a nearby teahouse. In the mundane world, teahouses were always the fastest places to gather news.