Chapter Fifty-Three: The Abode of an Ancient Cultivator

Chapter Fifty-Three: The Ancient Cultivator’s Abode

The deeper they went, the hotter the water became. After diving nearly a hundred meters, the surrounding temperature had already surpassed sixty degrees. Fortunately, Xia Zheng was shielded by his spiritual power, which kept both the heat and the water at bay. Had this been back when he escaped from the Land of Death, he would not have been able to sustain such an expenditure. However, after his enlightenment with the Tortoise Breathing Technique, and especially after awakening his divine sense, his spiritual power had grown abundant, so he no longer had to worry about such consumption.

“It’s just there,” Yao Yao pointed to a faint glimmer some seventy or eighty meters below. That must be the entrance she had mentioned.

To be cautious, Xia Zheng didn’t approach immediately but instead unleashed his divine sense to scan the area. Instantly, everything within a hundred-meter radius was laid bare to his mind, including the source of the faint light.

“So, that’s a rather peculiar array. Could it be a teleportation gate?” Xia Zheng mused, curious, and continued to guide Yao Yao downward.

As they drew closer to the glimmer, the oppressive force emanating from the array grew more intense. This was certainly not something the fox spirit clan could have crafted. Xia Zheng was convinced it was the work of another. Could it be that the fox spirits had merely found this place and claimed it as their own?

With these doubts in mind, Xia Zheng and Yao Yao finally reached the entrance. Refracted by the faint glow, mysterious runes circled and rotated, with a central motif depicting the interdependence of yin and yang.

“Please wait, friend; I will open the entrance,” said Yao Yao. A surge of spiritual power emanated from her, and she chanted in an ancient, lilting tongue, quite unlike the contemporary language of the Federation. Although Xia Zheng was somewhat versed in ancient cultures, he could not understand a word.

Soon, the runes began to meld together under Yao Yao’s incantation, forming a key that slotted into the yin-yang motif. The ground trembled, a wave of weightlessness swept over them, and a doorway of golden light, tall as a person, appeared before them.

“Please, follow me,” Yao Yao invited, still nestled in Xia Zheng’s arms, which reassured him. Yet he kept his divine sense ready—one thought, and he could end her life if needed.

As the two approached the entrance, a tremendous force sucked them in, and Xia Zheng was powerless to resist.

His vision blurred, and in a blink, he found himself standing in a spacious hall. It resembled a grand palace, complete with pavilions, houses, flowers, trees, swimming fish, and birds. Though not as beautiful as the world outside, it was still filled with the fragrance of blossoms and the songs of birds—a picturesque scene.

“Greetings, friend. I am Meng Hu of the fox spirit clan,” a clear, delicate voice called out—unmistakably Yao Yao’s. Xia Zheng realized she was no longer in his arms. He turned to the sound and beheld a young woman in blue attire, her features bright and charming. She appeared about his age, with a pair of white animal ears atop her head and what seemed to be a fluffy silver tail behind her.

Xia Zheng stared at her in astonishment. “Didn’t you say you needed another hundred years of cultivation before you could take human form?”

Meng Hu giggled sweetly. “I’m not yet fully human, as I cannot conceal my ears and tail. But the rest of my body is little different from a human’s. Would you care to inspect for yourself?”

“No need,” Xia Zheng replied. He suspected that seduction was an inborn trait of the fox spirits. Meng Hu’s alluring figure was impossible to ignore. If she undressed here and now, he was not certain he could restrain himself.

“Hehe, then so be it. You’re truly not one for romance,” Meng Hu teased, striking a coquettish pose that made Xia Zheng want to strip her bare.

Clearing his throat, Xia Zheng asked, “You said your name was Meng Hu. So, is Yao Yao your…”

“That’s my childhood name. Elders usually call me that,” Meng Hu explained.

So that’s how it was. Xia Zheng nodded, then followed Meng Hu as she gave him a tour.

The abode was vast and meticulously organized: storerooms, training chambers, an herb and spirit fruit garden, scenic areas, and places to rest. All in all, it was an ideal place for cultivation; perhaps the ancient cultivators were all obsessed with their practice.

At this moment, Meng Hu brought over a tray of bright red fruits and invited Xia Zheng to try one. She ate one herself first, to show it was not poisonous.

Xia Zheng took one. By now, he trusted the fox spirit maiden for the most part. Examining the fruit, he noticed it resembled an Ice Spirit Fruit but with crimson flesh and a golden, glowing core—clearly extraordinary.

“What is this fruit called?” Xia Zheng asked.

“It is called the Vitality Fruit. It replenishes the spiritual power of those who cultivate divine energies and can also heal mental injuries,” Meng Hu explained.

Xia Zheng’s eyes lit up, and he swallowed the fruit. Instantly, it melted in his mouth, turning into a surge of pure spiritual energy that was absorbed by his mind, leaving him clear-headed and refreshed.

“It truly is remarkable. Is this fruit unique to this place?” Xia Zheng had often struggled with depleted spiritual power in dangerous situations. If he could use such a fruit at a critical moment, he might turn defeat into victory.

Meng Hu nodded, eating several more herself—likely to recover from the injury caused by Xia Zheng’s earlier attack.

“Is it easy to cultivate?” Xia Zheng asked eagerly.

Meng Hu shook her head. “It can only be grown here, nourished by geothermal springs and the spiritual energy of this blessed land. It takes thirty years for one to ripen.”

“That long?” Xia Zheng was disappointed; he had hoped this fruit could be his lifeline.

Seeing his dismay, Meng Hu explained, “Don’t fret. Though the fruit is hard to cultivate and yields are low, it serves as the main ingredient for refining the Vitality Pill. By combining it with other herbs from the valley, one can make a pill with seventy percent of the fruit’s efficacy. If refined well, one fruit can yield ten pills, or at least two or three at minimum. At present, there are about two thousand Vitality Fruits in storage—enough to make several thousand pills. Used sparingly, they should last until the next batch matures in thirty years.”

“Meng Hu, would you be willing to refine a batch of Vitality Pills for me?” Xia Zheng asked earnestly.

Meng Hu shook her head, and Xia Zheng’s heart sank. But then she said, “It’s not that I’m unwilling. The art of alchemy is an ancient cultivator’s skill. My clan once served as guardians of this abode, but we never mastered the technique. My grandmother said that perhaps we must wait for a destined one to come and revive this art.”

“A destined one?” Xia Zheng was struck by the thought. How many ages had this place waited in silence for such a person? Could he be the one?

With that in mind, he asked Meng Hu to take him to the alchemy area.

“By the way, Meng Hu, are you the only one left here?” Xia Zheng asked, marveling at the grand architecture they passed.

Meng Hu nodded, her expression tinged with sadness. “My elders left centuries ago for reasons unknown and never returned. I am the last guardian of this abode. Had I not met you today, perhaps in another hundred or several hundred years, I too would have become a pile of bones here.”

“Maybe they had their reasons. Don’t dwell on it, Meng Hu. Our meeting is fate. Since I promised to take you to the mortal world, you won’t have to grow old in solitude,” Xia Zheng comforted her.

Meng Hu immediately bowed deeply. “Thank you for your kindness.”

They soon arrived at a tower-shaped alchemy chamber, sealed by a barrier and a bright yellow talisman. Meng Hu’s cultivation was insufficient to break the seal; all her knowledge of alchemy had come from her elders.

“This talisman was left by the master of the abode. My elders could break it, but then it was sealed again. If you can break the seal, you may enter and study the alchemy arts. If not, don’t force it,” Meng Hu explained.

“Very well, I’ll try.” Xia Zheng nodded and sat cross-legged a dozen meters from the talisman, calming his mind.

Meng Hu stood behind, watching him intently. Her feelings toward Xia Zheng had improved greatly in their brief time together—not just because of his strength.

With a low hum, a powerful surge of spiritual energy radiated from Xia Zheng’s mind, quickly coalescing into the form of a lifelike finger, which pointed toward the talisman.

Meng Hu was deeply shaken. She too cultivated spiritual power, but could at best create a vague outline of a finger—a mere shadow, nothing as vivid as Xia Zheng’s manifestation.

As the spiritual finger neared the talisman, the paper seemed to sense the threat. It swelled, growing into a tall wall.

Dong!

The finger struck the wall with a sound like a morning bell or evening drum, sending out waves of light and sound. Xia Zheng was immediately engulfed by their force, feeling pain, while Meng Hu behind him let out a soft cry, retreated, and sat down to resist the impact.

Enduring the pain, Xia Zheng sent out another wave of spiritual power—this time forming a massive fist, as lifelike as the finger before, which he then hurled at the wall.

Duang!

This time, the reaction was fiercer. The light and sound waves took the shape of long swords, sweeping toward Xia Zheng with terrifying power.

Feeling the force of the talisman’s counterattack, Xia Zheng stopped holding back, opened his third eye, and unleashed his divine sense.

With a surge of killing intent, his divine sense became a great curved blade, slashing at the sword-shaped counterattack.

Sparks flew, light burst forth, and the waves grew even more violent. Meng Hu’s face turned pale, blood rising to her cheeks; she was barely able to hold on.

Sensing Meng Hu’s peril, Xia Zheng split a portion of his divine sense into a shield before her, blocking the sword’s assault. The pressure on Meng Hu eased greatly, and she looked at Xia Zheng with gratitude.

Now fully engaged with the talisman’s sword, Xia Zheng’s divine sense pressed the attack. At last, the sword withdrew into the talisman, unable to withstand the onslaught. With a mighty shout, Xia Zheng’s blade descended.

Crack!

The talisman split open, golden light flaring as the seal shattered.

“Meng Hu pays homage to her master!” This time, Meng Hu’s salute was solemn and formal.

Xia Zheng was bewildered. “Weren’t we to treat each other as equals? Why call me master?”

Meng Hu shook her head, her tone resolute. “My elders decreed that whoever broke the seal alone would be the new master of this abode, and the fox spirit clan must swear undying loyalty. This command cannot be defied.”

“I see… Well, I won’t stop you, but in my era, master-servant bonds are out of fashion. I still regard you as a friend.” With that, Xia Zheng strode through the broken barrier into the tower.

Tears glimmered in Meng Hu’s eyes. “If the ancestors’ spirits watch from above, let them know the fox spirit clan has found a new master. We shall serve with our lives.” With those words, she swore a blood oath, pledging eternal loyalty.