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The bamboo raft drifted downstream, where a snow-white little beast, no longer shedding powder, ambled leisurely along the edge, occasionally watching the fish swimming in the river and admiring the distant mountain scenery.
The landscape was hazy, painted in shades of blue and green. When the reflection of a figure in white robes fell upon the river, it became the touch of crane-white that brought the landscape painting to life.
Cang Shun gazed at it and suddenly felt that this stroke of white was perfectly suited, misted among the blue mountains and green waters—a shade more would be too dense, a shade less would be too faint. He had seen many shades of white: frost-white, moon-white, but none compared to—
A breeze swept across the river, and the figure in white, who had been sitting quietly, opened a pair of ink-black eyes.
Cang Shun shifted his gaze nonchalantly, focusing on the forest leaves floating by the riverbank, gently parting the layers of ripples.
After a while, he turned back just as casually and saw the young human tilt his head. A few strands of dark hair brushed past his brows and eyes, his calm gaze fixed on a distant point.
Between the blue mountains, a thin veil of white mist parted to reveal a waterborne mountain city.
With just a glance, Cang Shun knew it was an ordinary mortal town, devoid of any spiritual energy fluctuations.
However, the mountains and waters were indeed clear and beautiful, no wonder they had nurtured such a fine jade.
The wind carried his voice: [That is your hometown.]
Chen Moqing did not answer.
[Won't you go back for a visit?]
The wind had already carried the raft away. Chen Moqing withdrew his gaze.
"No need."
"I have no hometown."
Cang Shun fell silent for two seconds, then let out a slow 'woo' hopped onto his lap, and patted him with a furry paw.
[Where shall we go?]
Chen Moqing lifted his gaze, looking toward the distant mountains.
"Qingluan Prefecture."
Qingluan Prefecture, one of the three thousand middle prefectures, was the location of the array-path inheritance left behind in Senior Xing Yun's ancient map, now situated within the present-day Qingluan Prefecture.
Unlike Dongzhou Prefecture, which was predominantly focused on talisman cultivation, Qingluan Prefecture was the land of array path. The largest array path sect there was called the Wanhua Sect, possessing one Soul Formation cultivator and four Nascent Soul cultivators.
[Qingluan?] Cang Shun seemed to find it quite interesting and chuckled softly: [That fellow has its own exclusive prefecture now?]
Chen Moqing met those crimson demonic eyes, "The name Qingluan Prefecture originates from four thousand years ago, named after the last Qingluan in the world that fell in this prefecture."
After hearing this, Cang Shun's expression didn't change much, and it was unclear what he was thinking. He remained silent for a long time.
The bamboo raft drifted down the river, having already passed through numerous mountains. A strong wind rose again, lifting the giant kite into the blue sky.
Barriers were set up between the nine thousand prefectures, and during non-wartime, one could travel between prefectures through border teleportation arrays. For distances that were too far, one could take a flying kite—a type of large-scale inter-prefecture transport.
The giant kite was a thousand zhang* long, carrying towering cloud-piercing pavilions on its back, row upon row, with flowing clouds passing through its corridors, floating amidst a sea of clouds.
*t/n; about 3.3 kilometers.
Chen Moqing spent a fortune to book a premium guest room, for no other reason than its proximity to the Flying Kite's central hub, where spiritual energy was the most concentrated, which was beneficial for cultivation.
"Esteemed guest, please follow us."
The two maids, with their skirts fluttering gracefully, smiled as they led the way. One of them, noticing the young guest’s gentle features and bamboo-like posture, couldn't help but let her gaze linger, frequently stealing glances at him.
Not long after, the young beast nestled in the young guest's arms began to glare fiercely, its expression turning fierce.
Inside the spacious and luxurious private room, just as the maid was lifting the teacup, the guest’s clear and melodious voice rang out: "Thank you, I can manage on my own. The two of you may go back and rest."
Premium guests in the upper-class quarters were typically assigned attendants to serve them at all times, often without a break throughout the day. Hearing this, the two maids flashed grateful looks, expressed their thanks, and quietly closed the door behind them as they left, walking away hand in hand with light, cheerful steps.
Only after watching the two maids disappear completely outside the room did Cang Shun turn his head, giving Chen Moqing a deep, thoughtful look.
Even with the disguise, why do people still find him so likable so easily?
Chen Moqing met the gaze of this small, fluffy ball whose round, demonic eyes were fixed intently on him.
What are you doing?
He raised his hand and lightly ruffled the fur on top of the little one's head.
"……"
Cang Shun fell silent and turned to walk away.
He wandered over to the table, saw a plate of spirit fruits, picked up the largest one and tossed it to that human, then grabbed a smaller one and rolled it around with his paw for fun.
Chen Moqing took out his storage pouch and began examining the gains from this trip.
During this period, through his cooperation with Qianxuan Pavilion, the talismans he crafted were not only sold in Qingzhu City but also auctioned off at Qianxuan Pavilion's headquarters through Bai Yue. Scattered sums added up to over a hundred thousand spirit stones.
Talisman cultivators truly were wealthier than sword cultivators—at the very least, his Chenjie couldn't produce money.
Thinking of that frost-and-snow-like long sword, a faint smile surfaced at the corner of Chen Moqing's lips.
Cang Shun immediately looked up.
Thinking of someone? So happy.
He jumped back to his side, pressed a paw on the hem of his robe, and silently kneaded and rubbed it, quickly balling it up into a mess.
Chen Moqing, accustomed to this, let him have his way. The runes floated and unfurled, laying down a barrier that completely isolated the private room from the outside world.
Between his brows, a lotus mark ignited, and a crystalline nine-petaled lotus appeared, radiating a soft, brilliant glow.
A fifth-grade low-grade defensive treasure, the Snowdust Glass Lotus, capable of withstanding a single strike from an early-stage Soul Formation cultivator.
In addition, two semi-transparent, amorphous talismans floated in the air, with golden characters flowing between them.
The sixth-grade Void-Rending Talisman formula, capable of tearing through the void and traversing an entire prefecture.
The sixth-grade Boundary Seal Talisman formula, able to draw boundaries as prisons, creating its own sealed boundary—only a peak early-stage Spatial Tempering cultivator could break free.
Both were talisman formulas, not completed talismans, and would require a vast amount of rare and precious materials to refine. However, sixth-grade talismans already belong to the high-grades, and even just their formulas are priceless in the upper prefectures.
After all, the power of sixth-grade talismans rivals that of Spatial Tempering cultivators. Even in the upper prefectures, a single Spatial Tempering cultivator is an absolute pillar of strength, formidable enough to lead an entire sect.
Above the two talisman formulas, a closed scroll hung quietly in the air, resembling jade carvings.
A sixth-grade offensive treasure, named 'Naihe'.
On the Naihe Bridge, it guides souls home—no living person shall pass.
With his current cultivation, he is temporarily unable to activate this lethal heavy weapon. Only after advancing to the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm might he be able to draw upon a fraction of its power.
Chen Moqing’s gaze finally settled on the half volume of a broken techniqu. A remnant method that could regenerate spiritual root structure, something even the Tianshu Sect did not possess.
From this alone, he deduced that the cultivation level of Xing Yun’s original form was definitely not limited to the Spatial Tempering stage, and might even surpass the Mahayana stage. Yet, such a brilliantly talented and powerful figure had left no name in the current Nine Thousand Prefectures, leaving him to wonder if there were deeper reasons behind it.
He stored the storage pouch away and lowered his gaze.
A soft, fluffy white ball was lounging leisurely on his lap, gently wagging its tail. He gently placed the spirit fruit on top of the little fluffy ball’s head, causing the soft, fluffy fur to dip into a slight dent. The little fluffy ball immediately froze in place.
It lay completely still, only its slender tail stretching in the opposite direction of its head, seemingly trying to reach the spirit fruit.
Chen Moqing calmly used a finger to push the tail aside and curled it up, hearing a familiar, loud 'meow' in response.
The greatest gain from this journey was not only these secret realm inheritances but also his self-created talisman technique, 'Return to the Abyss'. Even if he encountered a Soul Formation cultivator now, with 'Return to the Abyss', he would still have the ability to fight.
If he could break through to the Golden Core realm, the power of 'Return to the Abyss' would undoubtedly undergo a qualitative transformation. However, that was by no means an easy task.
The Golden Core stage differs from Foundation Establishment; it is the cultivator's first complete transformation and the true watershed on the path of cultivation—only by entering the spiritual sea with the Golden Core can one ascend to the Great Path.
Therefore, crossing into the Golden Core realm inevitably requires enduring a Heavenly Tribulation Lightning, which also has its own grades: three thousand earthly thunders, six thousand mysterious thunders, and nine thousand heavenly thunders. In the past, he had faced the Nine Heavens Tribulation Lightning to advance from the great perfection of Foundation Establishment to the Golden Core stage.
Cang Shun flipped over and suddenly saw those elegant hands loosening the belt, parting the robes to reveal a stretch of fair skin.
Cang Shun: "……"
The snow-white beast's round ears shot up instantly, and it scurried into the blanket, leaving only its plump hind half exposed.
Chen Moqing glanced somewhat bewilderedly at a certain Demon Emperor, withdrew the concealment talisman, and revealed his original appearance.
Half his robes undone, his black hair cascaded over his chest, crimson branches meandering across his pale, fair skin, only inches away from his heart.
He knew all too well that once the crimson branches crossed his heart, it would be the moment when the Withered Wood Revival Decree would steal his vitality, and his soul would be eternally condemned to blazing flames with no escape.
His dark eyes remained calm and unperturbed. With slender fingers gently moving, the runes took form as he set up another layer of barriers.
Seven layers of barriers in succession turned the room into an impenetrable, secret stronghold.
Then, he poked the motionless snow-white little beast buried in the blanket again, "I’ll be in seclusion for three days. May I trouble Your Majesty the Demon Emperor to keep an eye on the door for me and not let outsiders in."
"……"
The half-buried fluffy ball stirred, slowly crawled out from under the blanket, turned into a complete fluffball, and quietly lifted its head.
The next second, it buried its head back into the blanket, curling up into a small lump.
[Okay]
It responded in a tiny voice.
Chen Moqing: "……"
He had heard that demon culture was generally open, and exposing clothing was commonplace. Shouldn’t this Demon Emperor be completely accustomed to it by now?
Forget it, after all, it’s a three-hundred-year-old Mimi, still underage.
Chen Moqing pulled up the blanket and gently covered the soft little white rice cake, closed his eyes to focus, and sank his consciousness into the spiritual sea, gazing at the Withered Wood Revival Decree above the chasm.
The talisman command left behind by an immortal, though replicated by him, was not entirely under his control. It seemed to retain a trace of the immortal’s will, obstructing his path to cultivation.
Chen Moqing’s consciousness sat in meditation, facing the Withered Wood Revival Decree from a distance. With one hand forming seals, countless runes swirled around him, spreading like a vast galaxy, illuminating the sky above the spiritual sea one by one.
He intended to refine the Withered Wood Revival Decree once more with the true meaning of the talisman path! Within his own spiritual sea, he would contend with the immortal from ten thousand years ago!
The elegant room was silent, with only the faint flickering of runes and the surging flow of spiritual energy.
The blanket shifted slightly, revealing a fluffy, snow-white head. Those round, demonic eyes sneakily glanced upward, their gaze quickly skimming over the exposed area below the young human's open collar.
Expressionless, it turned its head away.
Two seconds later, it took another furtive glance.
Calmly, it averted its gaze once more.
Another two seconds passed.
It looked again, with a justified air.
...Why isn't he properly dressed!
Cang Shun leaped onto the person’s lap, pawing and adjusting his slightly open robes to close them a bit.
Aren’t you afraid… afraid of catching a chill!
This Demon Emperor muttered silently to himself while settling into Chen Moqing’s lap, his slender tail sweeping gently over the hem of his hanging robes. He continued grumbling inwardly.
It’s better with their demon race—they all have fur to cover their bodies, or at least scales. This human’s skin is so fair and smooth; wouldn’t it get cold with just a gust of wind?
After a short while, Cang Shun silently lifted his head again.
Even while cultivating, the person’s posture remained as graceful and upright as bamboo. The loosely fastened collar draped over his porcelain-like neck, his collarbones like jade. His chest wasn’t frail or thin but covered with a fine layer of muscle, exuding a cool, jade-like hue.
At the edge of the open robe, a segment of crimson wood lay quietly against the fair skin, startling and captivating like white frost and red plum blossoms.
Cang Shun gazed intently at that unrestrainedly blooming crimson.
The aura of the Great Path.
But, it was a 'Dao' different from the current Heavenly Dao—more ancient, more… pure.
Cang Shun’s gaze instantly sharpened, a surge of demonic power sweeping outward. Not to attack the seemingly defenseless human, but to forcibly envelop the surroundings, grinding down the aura of this space layer by layer, sealing off any possible gaps of leakage.
The snow-white beast’s form swelled dramatically, expanding into a towering figure, like an unattainable, majestic snow-capped mountain. Then, the mountain range lowered, the fierce wind and snow abruptly ceased, and it settled around that straight and graceful green bamboo.
Cang Shun silently lowered his head, resting his jaw against the person’s hair, slowly nuzzling it. His tail discreetly curled around the human's waist as he quietly stood guard over him.
Within the spiritual sea, Chen Moqing walked along a dim, pitch-black Great Path.
This sensation wasn't unfamiliar. Three years ago, when he first refined the Withered Wood Revival Decree, he felt as if he had stepped onto an ancient Great Path—ahead lay endless darkness, with only him walking alone, as though traversing from the primal wilds to the end of the world.
At that time, he ignited his essence blood, using it as a lamp to illuminate the path beneath his feet, and suddenly enlightened, he finally succeeded in refining the Withered Wood Revival Decree.
And now, he heard a long, ancient sigh, as though it had traversed endless ages and the deepest darkness of the world, gently settling beside him.
"A path untrodden for tens of thousands of years. Why come here, why trouble yourself to come here?"
The spiritual sea trembled violently, churning like raging seas. Chen Moqing suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, his dark hair cascading as the blood dripped from his slightly trembling fingertips, forming a stark and striking crimson against his pale skin.
That splash of crimson instantly seeped into Cang Shun's demonic eyes.
[Chen Moqing!]
Chen Moqing spat out another large mouthful of blood. The crimson branches on his pale skin wildly stretched and climbed, like blood splattered across snow—soon, they crawled over his heart!
[Moqing—!]
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