40 - A Farewell to Mr. Luo

When you truly feel the wind, it's not as if it's blowing on your face, but rather you are moving alongside it. White Crane soared through the air, seemingly in circles, but in reality, he was leveraging the wind's power. White Fan reached out into the wind, feeling it brush past his fingertips, creating tiny swirls. Suddenly, a spark of understanding illuminated White Fan's mind; he glimpsed the essence of Wind Manipulation, rising upwards with the wind. The place White Crane was taking them to was a mountainous area with a few houses below, surrounded by fields. As they landed and observed their surroundings, the elderly store owner spoke to White Fan, "From now on, you’ll be working here. Over there are the houses, and this area is all our shop's spiritual fields." White Fan looked down at the fields beneath his feet, musing that these must be the special fields where spiritual herbs could be grown. But what exactly made them different? "The seeds have already been sown. You just need to water them on time with the small cloud and rain technique. This field needs watering every three days, that one over there every day, and the one below every fortnight. Not too much water — half an hour per session will suffice. Also, if weeds grow, remember to pull them out. If pests appear, sprinkle some lime powder around to dehumidify and repel insects." White Fan nodded, committing everything to memory, then watched as the elderly store owner rode off on White Crane, leaving him and the thief in the spiritual fields. "Boss, are we really going to farm here from now on?" Retrieving his gaze from the horizon, White Fan looked at the vast expanse of spiritual fields and nodded, understanding that to survive in Immortal City, they had no other option. "Let's get to work." White Fan first went to the houses. Pushing open the door, he could see that no one had lived there for quite some time as dust covered everything. He grabbed a bucket and a rag and began cleaning. It took him an entire day to clean all the rooms. He then fetched quilts from the large cupboard, made the bed, and collapsed onto it, falling asleep immediately. At dawn, the thief shouted from outside, “Boss, time to get up and work.” Groggy, White Fan climbed out of bed. The unfamiliar surroundings reminded him he was at work and that there were many spiritual fields outside needing water. He quickly got up. The small cloud and rain technique actually consumed his internal spiritual energy in exchange for rainwater. At first, White Fan didn’t find it overly exhausting, but once he started watering plot after plot, he realized how energy-draining it was. Half an hour per plot meant sustaining the spell for that duration without rest. His small cloud couldn't fully cover one plot, so he had to water it piece by piece. By nightfall, he had only finished watering the daily plot while the other two remained untouched. His internal energy was almost depleted. White Fan pondered how to handle the other two plots, worried about the consequences if they weren't watered on time. He didn't want all this hard work to result in no spiritual stones earned. Gritting his teeth, with his energy completely spent, there was only one quick way to recover: absorbing energy from a spiritual stone. With that thought, White Fan took a white spiritual stone from his storage bag and began meditating on the spot. As the stone turned from white to gray, his internal energy gradually restored. When he opened his eyes again, the stone in his hand had turned into a pile of gray powder, causing an immediate heartache. If this continued daily, he would end up bankrupt. Determined, White Fan decided to solve the immediate issue first. According to the watering schedule of the other two plots — one every three days and one every fortnight — if he finished those tonight, he wouldn’t worry about energy for now, and then only focus on the daily plot afterwards. White Fan quickly watered the two plots through the night under a sky full of stars, then dragged his weary self back to his room. Sleeping until the sun was high, he emerged with dark circles around his eyes. Though the thief had breakfast ready, White Fan, having reached the Foundation Establishment stage, didn’t need food and had no appetite after such exhaustive labor. "Boss, aren’t you going to eat?" White Fan waved his hand, "No, you eat. Don’t call me for meals anymore. And check for weeds in the fields later." With that, White Fan resumed working. He was getting more accustomed to the small cloud and rain technique. While at first, his hand gestures were complicated for precision, repeated practice had streamlined them. Raindrops fell steadily, and he continued depleting his internal energy. By nightfall, his work was finally done. Yawning, he headed back to his room with no energy to care about what the thief was doing. The thief saw White Fan return and wanted to report there were no weeds today, but seeing White Fan was too exhausted to respond, he turned away. Thus, time flew by. White Fan felt immensely busy throughout the month, and the constant depletion of spiritual energy finally made his cultivation progress, which had been stagnant, move forward. The three spiritual stones earned that month were just enough to cover his expenses, breaking even while running himself ragged. One day, White Fan returned from the fields not immediately crashing into bed but meditated, finding it restored his internal energy quicker. Drowsy and half-asleep, White Fan inadvertently entered the dream realm again. However, it wasn't as calm as before; the environment had drastically changed. The lush foliage was gone, replaced by rough rocks, transforming the once verdant land into desolation. The previously milky borders were now a mottled yellow, as if the area were on the verge of becoming a wasteland. Even the dragon gem had been split by the Dragon Slayer Sword, its ferocious energy wreaking havoc on the dream realm, shattering the peace. White Fan stared at the gem for a long while, remembering how the Dragon Slayer Sword had shattered it in a strike. Though his external injuries had mostly healed, the dream realm and the dragon gem were in chaos. This upheaval astounded White Fan. The gem had split in two, releasing vast amounts of spiritual energy. Because of the expansive nature of the dream realm, the rampaging energy hadn’t dissipated but remained inside, creating a disordered chaos. The contents of the gem spilled into the dream realm, disrupting its harmony. Low on spiritual energy, and frequent reliance on spiritual stones for watering, White Fan had an idea. He could harness the dream realm's spiritual energy for use. Acting immediately, White Fan transformed into a small white snake to guide the energy out. The barrier separating the dream realm from the outside world suddenly broke, and the rampaging energy surged forth. White Fan felt a tremendous burst within as if a flood had erupted, immense energy flooding his being. Enduring the pain, he absorbed the energy, forming a small vortex of spiritual energy in his dantian. When he could no longer bear it, he sealed the dream realm’s passage. The sense of boundless energy filled him again. The next morning, when watering the fields, he could now conjure a large cloud to cover an entire plot, raining steadily for over half an hour. White Fan felt no exhaustion; the surge of energy made him realize he had advanced to the second layer of Foundation Establishment. Apparently, cultivation wasn’t confined to meditation; even mundane tasks could be a form of practice. The first month, the elderly store owner arrived on White Crane, handing White Fan the month's pay. Holding the three small spiritual stones, he felt a mix of emotions. He had worked himself to the bone for these three stones yet felt a strange fulfillment. “Thank you, boss.” The elderly store owner, satisfied with the sprouting spiritual herbs, noticed the thief and asked White Fan. “Miss White, your servant is of little use here. Better he goes elsewhere to earn some spiritual stones.” “Er Chun?” White Fan glanced at the thief practicing sword techniques in the distance. Instead of sending him to labor, it would be better for him to learn swordsmanship, as surviving in Immortal City as a mortal was nearly impossible. "Are there no places in the city to learn swordsmanship, boss?" "No, but recently there’s a sect recruiting disciples. If your servant has any aptitude, he might just get in. Sword cultivators are quite rare, you know." “What sect?” White Fan hesitated upon hearing this. However, having the thief by her side had been aimless, and as a mortal with a brief lifespan, sending him to a sect to learn some skills would be far better. “Wan Jian Sect is currently recruiting disciples in the Immortal City. You might as well take him there today. You haven’t had any rest this month, so I’ll give you two days off.” White Fan was taken aback by the mention of a vacation. It was a welcome surprise, as it meant she could finally go out and buy some things. “Thank you very much.” White Fan smiled and expressed her gratitude. The elderly store owner kindly offered them the temporary use of White Crane, and thus they returned to Immortal City with the thief. White Crane landed in the backyard of the spiritual herb shop. Once White Fan and the thief left, White Crane would wait there obediently for their return. “Boss, where are you taking me?” the thief asked, clueless about their destination. White Fan, guiding the thief through the city, replied, “I’m sending you to learn a skill.” “Me, learn a skill?” “Yes. You must understand that without entering the cultivation path, everything is fleeting. You’re already quite old, and in a few years, you’ll be elderly. You won’t live for hundreds of years like me. Do you expect me to care for you in your old age?” White Fan glanced at the thief with a look of disdain. The thief felt a pang of sadness because he had never seriously considered the possibility of stepping into the realm of cultivation. Even if he dreamed about it, it was just a fantasy. Aptitude wasn't something one could change through effort alone. In the distance, they saw a crowd gathered, with disciples of a sect among them. White Fan hurriedly led the thief over. After some jostling, the two finally reached the front. A jade ship, larger than the one from the Qingxu Sect, was parked nearby, emblazoned with the insignia of Wan Jian Sect. “This is the place.” A group of Wan Jian Sect disciples, each with a sword on their back and a jade crown on their head, walked out. Compared to the Qingxu Palace sword cultivators, they seemed to possess an additional sense of transcendence. "Those wanting to join the sect, come here to have your spiritual root aptitude checked to see if you can pursue the path of sword cultivation," announced one of the disciples. They set up a table, and an older sword cultivator took a seat, extending his hand as if to check a pulse. “Boss, do I really have to go?” “Of course you do.” At that moment, they called, “Next!” White Fan quickly pushed the thief forward. Reluctantly, he stepped to the front. The sword cultivator, observing his attire, said, “Remove your mask and extend your hand.” The thief hesitated, feeling exposed with so many people behind him. It was embarrassing. “Hurry up! There are many others waiting,” urged the sword cultivator. The thief was torn. He had lived in the shadows, relying on stealing to survive, and after his disfigurement, he had avoided being seen. This opportunity offered a new beginning, but removing his mask felt like exposing his past and enduring public ridicule. White Fan, watching anxiously from the side, feared he might back out at the last moment. “Hurry up!” With another push, the thief finally removed his mask, revealing his disfigured face and sparking murmurs among the crowd, except for the indifferent Wan Jian Sect disciples. “Sit down and extend your hand to me,” the old sword cultivator instructed. The thief extended his hand. The old cultivator checked his pulse and circulated some spiritual energy through his body. After a thorough examination, he said, “You’re suitable. Head over there and board the ship.” Upon hearing this, White Fan couldn’t help but feel elated. The path of sword cultivation was extremely rigorous, but those who embarked on it often surpassed other cultivators. It was surprising to find the thief apt for such a path. Seeing the thief about to leave, White Fan hurried over and handed him a small pouch. Staring at his ugly yet determined face, she said with mixed feelings, “You have your own path now. No need to follow me around anymore. When you join Wan Jian Sect, stop your thieving ways. This pouch contains some spiritual stones. I may not have many skills, but I looted plenty of stones from that water pirate ship. In the cultivation world, nothing gets done without spiritual stones, so keep these for emergencies.” The thief was stunned by the generosity and looked at White Fan with tear-filled eyes. “Boss.” “Alright, no need to get emotional. When I first left home, someone did the same for me.” With that, she gave him a kick, sending him stumbling away. He clung to the pouch as he got up, reluctantly boarded the ship, and turned to shout, “Boss, I promise I’ll learn well!” White Fan said nothing but watched him board with a smile. In that moment, she understood the feelings Lotus had when watching her leave. Cultivation was ultimately a solitary path, even among like-minded friends, who eventually parted ways. Once he was out of sight, White Fan slowly walked back to the herbal shop. With two days of vacation, she decided to make the most of it. Her first stop was the book shop. After her last visit with He Yiman, she discovered her extraordinary ability to remember everything she read. While others bought books to read at home, White Fan planned to read in the shop. Even if she didn’t understand everything immediately, she would memorize it. Strutting into the bookshop, she was constantly pestered by a shop assistant asking what she was looking for. But White Fan’s goal was to read without buying, with a particular interest in herbology. “Miss, what kind of books are you looking for? I can recommend some to save you time.” Annoyed, White Fan replied, “I want to read about flora and herbs.” “In that case, please follow me.” The assistant led her to a loft filled with books on botany. White Fan felt a bit overwhelmed by the sheer volume. “Thank you, but I’ll browse on my own from here.” The assistant hesitated, suspecting White Fan might be one of those who read without buying, but he doubted anyone could memorize entire books in a day. However, White Fan was exceptional. While most people’s cultivation improved their abilities, her memory had become extraordinarily precise during the Foundation Establishment, compensating for her inherent deficiencies. Once the assistant left, White Fan quickly picked up a book and began flipping through it rapidly, her eyes effectively copying its contents. She spent the entire day in the shop, engrossed in reading. The assistant who had helped her initially had long forgotten her presence due to being busy. Meanwhile, on another floor, a familiar figure was also present. He Yiman was meticulously studying geographical data, her jade-like fingers turning pages with grace. However, a frown marred her expression, indicating she was troubled by something. As the setting sun cast its rays on her face, she squinted slightly. A disciplined person, He Yiman adhered to strict routines, even though her formidable abilities often garnered fear among Golden Core cultivators. She couldn’t enjoy their centuries-long lifespans and still needed to eat regularly. Closing her book, He Yiman returned the incomplete one to its place, then selected a few more interesting titles and prepared to leave. Descending the stairs, the creaky steps highlighted their age, but White Fan, engrossed in her reading below, paid no heed. He Yiman, almost out, was captured by the sound of vigorous page-turning, drawing her attention. Turning her head, He Yiman noticed the familiar young girl busily flipping through the pages, looking more like she was playing with the book than reading it. The girl's small frame made her look particularly conspicuous holding such a large book. Curious, He Yiman walked over and stood behind White Fan. Completely engrossed, White Fan didn’t notice someone behind her. It wasn’t until the warm scent of flowers reached her nose that she snapped out of her reverie. She murmured while looking out the window, “It's getting dark already.” “Yes, it is.” A voice suddenly came from behind, startling White Fan. She turned around, clutching her book, and saw He Yiman standing there, thinking she was seeing things. “Oh, it’s you.” White Fan closed the book and replaced it on the shelf, then touched her chest, still recovering from the scare. “Did I frighten you?” He Yiman’s voice was clear with a hint of coolness. White Fan quickly shook her head; it wasn’t He Yiman who had scared her but the fear of being caught secretly reading for so long. Having run into He Yiman twice at the bookshop, White Fan couldn’t help but ask, “I’ve met you here twice. What is it that you’re searching for?” He Yiman didn’t mind sharing her quest. She smiled and said, “If I tell you, you might not believe me. I’m looking for a place, but no one seems to know about it. I came to Immortal City to gather information, yet I found nothing, so I turned to this bookshop for geographical records.” “What place is it that even you don’t know?” “The Savage Lands.” He Yiman frowned slightly as she spoke. Despite her prolonged effort, she had found no information. Hearing the words “Savage Lands” sent waves of shock through White Fan’s mind because she, too, was searching for that place. By coincidence, she had found a clue in a bookshop at the itinerant cultivators’ market. “So, it’s the Savage Lands.” White Fan’s tone carried a hint of relief as she spoke. “Do you know of it, Miss White?” For the first time, a look of surprise crossed He Yiman’s usually calm face. “I know a little.” White Fan stroked her chin thoughtfully. Her information wasn’t completely certain. “What is it? Can you tell me?” “I’m not very sure. I’m afraid of misleading you.” “It’s fine.” “The Savage Lands are vast and wide, beyond the sea.” “Beyond the sea? Do you know which sea?” White Fan shook her head. She didn’t know, but the closest sea according to the map she had seen was the South Sea. ＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊V Er Chun had finally embarked on his own path, parting ways with Big White. 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