Chapter Forty-One: Kunling County

Turning around and walking back, there was now a ring on the ground. It looked utterly ordinary, with a chain threaded through it, clearly meant to be worn around the neck. A faint scent lingered, suggesting it belonged to the little one from before. Picking it up, Dao Sansheng tossed it into his hair-tie, but then put it into a box for safekeeping. He was headed to his sect’s spiritual artifact shop.

Humming an unfamiliar tune, Dao Sansheng could barely contain his good mood as he headed for the center of the street and walked toward the shop. At the entrance, the outer disciples of Forge Heaven Valley noticed his sect attire and gave way without bothering to speak, their faces betraying annoyance.

Dao Sansheng was here to deliver goods today, just as before. He strode straight to the counter. The clerk inside didn’t spare him a glance, keeping his head buried in writing. Dao Sansheng waited for half an hour, but the man remained immersed in his work, as if whatever he was doing was far too important to acknowledge him.

He was growing impatient when the clerk finally looked up, his tone impatient. “Do you have raw ore or finished goods? If it’s raw ore, we’re out for the moment. For finished goods, just put them on the table.”

Dao Sansheng ignored him, placing the refined materials in a storage pouch and slapping it on the table with more than a little force.

The clerk sneered, “What, you have a problem? You’re just an outer disciple. You probably can’t refine much in a day—wasting everyone’s time. The faster you refine, the sooner we get our returns.”

He began to inspect the goods, but his voice grew softer as he realized the quality and quantity were exceptional.

“Give me your identification token,” he said, his voice now gentle.

“What? You’ve only been at this eight days and produced so much, and so well? Brother, how much are you planning to deliver this time?” The clerk’s excitement was palpable. If these items were sent to the artifact masters, they’d surely reward him handsomely, and the success rate of refining would greatly increase.

“I’m not taking anything this time; I’m on a mission. When I return, I’ll seek you out.”

With just a few words, Dao Sansheng calmed the man’s nerves—he hadn’t offended the junior disciple after all.

“My name is Guo Dazhui. Next time you come, just call me by name. You must come back!” Guo Dazhui waved, bidding Dao Sansheng farewell.

Taking the spirit stones from the table without even looking at them, Dao Sansheng left directly. He needed to go to Kunling County. He wondered whether to head for the relay station or walk there—the distance wasn’t far.

He decided to go straight to the relay station and take the carriage to Kunling County. Finishing the mission quickly meant he could enter the inner sect soon and start learning new techniques. Xue’er had also said she wanted to attend some grand assembly.

Dao Sansheng made his way to the relay station, bought a ticket swiftly, and boarded a carriage. The compartment was filled with itinerant cultivators and commoners; only Dao Sansheng wore the Forge Heaven Valley attire. Despite the sect’s decline, it was still a centuries-old immortal lineage, and its disciples’ spiritual roots were generally superior to those of itinerant cultivators or commoners.

Several people approached him during the journey, some asking for help with artifact refinement, others hoping he’d teach them a couple of sect techniques.

Dao Sansheng wanted to explain that, since joining the sect, he hadn’t even touched a proper technique—he was little more than a discarded pawn, waiting to be used as cannon fodder when needed.

After a long journey, the carriage finally arrived at Kunling City. Stepping off and checking the date, he realized he was already ten years old, and had grown considerably. Half the year had passed, and Dao Sansheng found himself reflecting.

His destination was in the southern Suiling Mountains of Kunling County. He didn’t know how far Suiling Mountains were from the main city, so he decided to find a place to eat and ask for directions.

Kunling County was blessed with eternal spring; the trees lining the streets remained green even in this season. The roads were clean and tidy, but sparsely populated. Dao Sansheng wandered through several streets without finding a lively inn.

Just as he was about to complain about how hard it was to gather information, he spotted a bustling inn. It didn’t look luxurious from the outside, but the vibrant atmosphere inside spoke for itself—likely the wine was fragrant and the food rich. Dao Sansheng entered.

The attendant hurried over. “Will you be dining or staying, sir?” Dao Sansheng glanced around the hall and walked to an empty spot, with the attendant following.

“I’ll do both,” Dao Sansheng said, placing several mid-grade spirit stones on the table.

The attendant’s eyes gleamed at the sight, as if afraid the stones would sprout wings and fly away. He handed over the menu.

On the menu, Dao Sansheng saw “White Fingers Suck,” which piqued his curiosity, so he ordered it. Another dish was called “Azure Dragon Crossing the River”—the name alone was appealing. Soon, Dao Sansheng had chosen several dishes and handed the menu back.

He sat by the window, and from there he could see a small river. It was no wonder so many people chose to sit here; river lanterns floated gently on the water.

The river flowed at a steady pace, the lanterns dotting its surface. Night was falling, and the scene was quietly enchanting.

Before long, the dishes arrived. A plate of white garlic drenched in chili sauce—this was the so-called White Fingers Suck. Before he could recover from the surprise, another plate arrived: scallions dipped in sauce, and then another...

Who could eat these and still speak to others afterwards?

Dao Sansheng didn’t really want to ask the attendant about it. But now was the best time to inquire about his business.

As the attendant set down the last dish, Dao Sansheng stopped him, catching his arm. The nearby diners looked over.

“I want to ask you something. Do you know Suiling Mountains?”

When Dao Sansheng stopped the attendant, several people glanced over. But when they heard the name Suiling Mountains, everyone nearby turned to look.

Before the attendant could reply, someone spoke up.

“Brother, are you going to Suiling Mountains for business or to visit someone? I advise you not to get involved—several groups have already died there, and even two mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators, both itinerants, were killed by the Ice Corpse.”

Hearing this, Dao Sansheng was shaken. Foundation Establishment mid-stage cultivators had died? That skeleton had tricked him into coming here—he would have to question it thoroughly.

The man continued, seeing Dao Sansheng silent: “This Ice Corpse has devoured several cultivators recently, and is about to break through to Foundation Establishment. Some say it already has—possibly today. The authorities have reported to the imperial court, which contacted Purple Immortal Palace. They instructed Forge Heaven Valley to send people. I advise you to stay far from trouble.”

After he finished, everyone chimed in, urging Dao Sansheng not to go, afraid he might venture there.

The attendant pointed out the window. “See those river lanterns? Each one commemorates a fallen cultivator. The authorities paid to release them into the river—every lantern is a life.”

The situation was clearly far worse than Dao Sansheng had imagined. He would need to find a quiet place and question the skeleton before deciding.

Because of his inquiry, the whole inn was now discussing the Ice Corpse’s attacks. Hearing that even two mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators hadn't lasted a day before being killed sent chills through everyone.