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Chapter 15: Why Aren't You Dressed Properly! — Moqing…

The bamboo raft drifted downstream, and a snow-white little creature, no longer giving off a pink glow, wandered leisurely along the edge of the raft, occasionally fixing its gaze on the fish swimming in the river and admiring the distant mountain scenery.

The mountains and waters were hazy, green as a painting, and the reflection of a white-robed figure fell upon the river's surface, becoming the crowning touch of crane-white within that landscape painting.

As Cang Shun watched, he suddenly felt that this shade of white was truly fitting—drifting amidst the green mountains and clear waters, a fraction more would seem too rich, a fraction less would seem too faint. He had seen frost-white, moon-white, and many other shades of white, yet none of them were as good as—

The wind passed over the river, and the still-seated white-robed figure opened a pair of ink-black eyes.

Cang Shun nonchalantly shifted his gaze away, fixing it on the leaves along the bank floating upon the river's surface, parting layer upon layer of ripples.

After a moment, he nonchalantly turned back again, and saw the young human tilt his head to the side, a few strands of dark hair brushing past his brows and eyes, his serene gaze looking into the distance.

Between the green mountains, the white mist was thin and light, unveiling a riverside mountain city upon the water.

Cang Shun only needed a single glance to know that it was an ordinary mortal city with not the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy.

However, the mountains were clear and the waters beautiful—no wonder they had nurtured such a fine jade.

The wind carried his voice over: 【That is your hometown.】

Chen Moqing did not answer.

【Don't you want to go back and take a look?】

The wind had already carried the bamboo raft far away. Chen Moqing withdrew his gaze.

"There is no need."

"I have no hometown."

Cang Shun was silent for two seconds, then slowly let out a low "mm," leaped onto his lap, and patted him with a fluffy paw.

【Where are we going?】

Chen Moqing raised his eyes and gazed into the distant mountains.

"Qingluan Prefecture."

Qing Luan Prefecture, one of the three thousand middle prefectures—the ancient map left behind by Senior Xingyun indicated that the inheritance of array arts was located in what is now Qingluan Prefecture.

Unlike the Dongzhou Prefecture, which was dominated by talisman cultivators, Qingluan Prefecture was a land of array arts. The largest array arts sect there was known as the Wanhua Sect, which counted one Deity Transformation cultivator and four Nascent Soul cultivators among its ranks.

【Qingluan?】 Cang Shun seemed to find this quite interesting, and let out a light laugh:【That fellow has claimed an entire prefecture for himself too?】

Chen Moqing met those crimson demon eyes: "The name Qingluan Prefecture originated four thousand years ago, from the last Qingluan* in the world, which fell in this very prefecture."

*t/n; Qingluan (青鸾, qīng luán) is a mythical bird from Chinese mythology, similar to a phoenix. It is associated with the luan (鸾), a divine bird from ancient Chinese legend often described as resembling a phoenix or a colorful, magnificent bird.

Upon hearing this, Cang Shun's expression did not change much. Not knowing what he was thinking, he remained silent for a long while.

The bamboo raft drifted downstream, having already passed over layer upon layer of mountains. Then a sudden gust of wind rose, lifting a great kite vessel straight up into the blue sky.

Barriers were set between each of the Nine Thousand Prefectures. In times of peace, those wishing to travel between prefectures could pass through the boundary teleportation arrays. For destinations too far apart, one could board a flying kite vessel—a large-scale cross-prefecture mode of transport.

The great kite vessel was a thousand zhang in length, carrying upon its back towering sky-high pavilions that rose in orderly tiers, with flowing clouds drifting through its corridors, as it rose and fell amidst the sea of clouds.

Chen Moqing had spent a great sum to book a top-grade guest room—for no other reason than that this spot was near the kite vessel's central hub, where spiritual energy was most concentrated, which was conducive to cultivation.

"Honored guest, please follow us."

Two maidservants with flowing skirts led the way with graceful smiles. One of them, upon noticing that the young guest had gentle and refined features and a bearing as upright as bamboo, could not help but let her gaze drift, glancing over repeatedly.

Then before long, the young guest's small demon beast, nestled in his arms, began to glare—fiercely.

In the spacious and luxuriously appointed private room, the maidservant had just lifted the tea cup when she heard the guest's clear and melodious voice: "Thank you, I can manage on my own. You two should go and rest."

Top-grade guest rooms always came with assigned attendants, who were expected to be at one's side at all times, and going an entire day without rest was the norm. Hearing these words, the two maidservants looked up with grateful eyes, expressed their thanks, then slipped out and closed the door behind them, hand in hand, walking away with light and cheerful steps.

Only after watching those two maidservants disappear completely outside the room did Cang Shun turn his head, gazing at Chen Moqing with a lingering look.

He had clearly already changed his appearance—so why did he still so easily win other people's favor.

Chen Moqing met the gaze of this little fluffy ball staring at him with its round demon pupils.

What is it.

He reached out and gave the tuft of fluff atop that small head a light ruffle.

"……"

Cang Shun said nothing, turned around, and walked off.

He wandered over to the table, where a plate of spirit fruits was laid out. He grabbed the largest one and tossed it to the human, then picked up a smaller one and batted it around with his paw.

Chen Moqing took out his storage pouch and began reviewing the gains from this journey.

During this period, he had been working with Qianxuan Pavilion, and the talismans he refined were not only sold in Qingzhu City but also forwarded by Bai Yue to the auctions at Qianxuan Pavilion's headquarters. Added up piece by piece, over a hundred thousand spirit stones had already come in.

Talisman cultivators were indeed wealthier than sword cultivators—at the very least, his Dustfall Sword did not earn him any money.

Thinking of that frost-and-snow-like longsword, a smile played at the corners of Chen Moqing's lips.

Cang Shun immediately looked up.

Who are you thinking of, to be this happy.

He leaped back to his side, pressed a paw down on the corner of his robe, and without a word began kneading it back and forth, quickly working it into a crumpled heap.

Chen Moqing let him be, as he was accustomed to it. Talisman runes drifted through the air as he laid down a barrier, completely sealing the private room off from the outside world.

A lotus mark ignited between his brows, and a crystalline nine-petaled lotus unfolded, radiating a lustrous and translucent glow.

A fifth-grade early-tier defensive spiritual treasure—the Snow-Dust Glazed Lotus Cup—capable of withstanding a single strike from an early-stage Deity Transformation cultivator.

Beside it, two semi-transparent, unformed talisman scripts floated in the air, with golden characters flowing through them.

A sixth-grade Void-Splitting Talisman script, capable of tearing open the void and traversing an entire prefecture.

A sixth-grade Boundary-Sealing Talisman script, capable of drawing a prison upon the ground and forming a self-contained forbidden boundary—inescapable by anyone below the early stage of Void Refinement.

Both were talisman scripts, not completed talismans. Refining them would require a great expenditure of rare heavenly materials—yet sixth-grade already belonged to the category of superior talismans, and even in their script form alone, they would be priceless in the upper prefectures.

After all, the might of a sixth-grade talisman could rival a Void Refinement cultivator. Even in the upper prefectures, a single Void Refinement cultivator was an absolute cornerstone—a formidable existence powerful enough to become the master of an entire sect.

Above the two talisman scripts, a sealed scroll hovered quietly in the air, like something carved from jade.

A sixth-grade offensive spiritual treasure, named "Naihe".

Upon of the Naihe Bridge, souls are guided home—no living person may cross.

With his current cultivation, he was temporarily unable to wield this heavy instrument of slaughter. If he were to advance past the mid-Golden Core stage, he might be able to channel a portion of its power.

Chen Moqing's gaze finally came to rest upon that half of a damaged cultivation manual—a damaged manual capable of regenerating spiritual roots, the likes of which even Tianshu Sect did not possess.

By this object alone, he was certain that Senior Xingyun's true cultivation had never been limited to Void Refinement, and may even have surpassed the Mahayana stage—yet such a breathtakingly brilliant and mighty figure had left no name in the Nine Thousand Prefectures of the present day. He wondered whether there lay a deeper reason behind this.

He put away his storage pouch and cast his eyes downward.

A soft, white little fluffy ball lay sprawled across his lap, lazily swaying its tail. He gently placed the spirit fruit on top of the little fluffy ball's head, and the plush fur dipped down to form a small hollow. The little fluffy ball immediately went still.

It lay there without moving, only its slender tail stretching out in the opposite direction from its head, as though trying to reach the spirit fruit.

Chen Moqing calmly used a finger to flick the tail aside, curling it back, and heard a familiar loud "mew".

The greatest gains from this journey were not only these secret realm inheritances, but also the talisman art he had created himself— Guixu Yin. Even if he were to encounter a Deity Transformation cultivator right now, by relying on "Guixu Yin," he would still have the power to put up a fight.

If he could break through to Golden Core, the power of "Guixu Yin" would surely undergo a fundamental transformation. However, that was by no means an easy task.

Golden Core was different from Foundation Building—it was a cultivator's first true metamorphosis, and the real watershed on the path of cultivation. Only when the Golden Core entered the spiritual sea could one ascend and tread the Great Path.

For this reason, crossing into Golden Core required weathering the lightning tribulation. The lightning tribulation also came in tiers—three thousand earthly thunders, six thousand mysterious thunders, nine thousand heavenly thunders. In those past days, it was while enduring a nine-heavenly thunders tribulation that he had crossed from perfect Foundation Building into Golden Core.

Cang Shun turned over, and suddenly caught sight of those beautiful hands undoing the waist sash, parting the robes, and revealing an expanse of pale, fine skin.

Cang Shun: "……"

The snow-white little beast's round ears shot straight up in an instant, and it darted at lightning speed under the covers, leaving only its round, plump rear half sticking out.

Chen Moqing glanced at a certain Demon Emperor with puzzlement, removed the concealment talisman, and revealed his original appearance.

His robes were half-undone, dark hair tumbling loose across his chest, while vivid crimson branches snaked and spread across his pale, fair skin, still a few inches away from his heart.

He knew full well that once the red branches crossed over his heart, that would be the moment the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree stripped him of his life force, condemning his soul to fall eternally into raging fire with no hope of release.

His dark, deep eyes were utterly still. His slender fingers moved lightly as talisman runes took form, laying down yet another barrier.

Seven barriers in succession, turning the interior of the room into an impenetrable and utterly concealed sanctuary.

Then he poked at the snow-white little beast that lay buried motionless in the covers: "I am going into seclusion for three days. I must trouble the magnificently imposing Demon Emperor to watch over the door for me, and keep outsiders from entering."

"……"

Only the half-lump of little fluffy ball stirred, slowly crawling out from under the covers to become a complete lump, and stealthily lifted its head.

The next second, its head was buried back into the covers again, curled up into a tiny ball.

【Oh.】

A small, quiet response.

Chen Moqing: "……"

He had heard that the demon race had always been open in their customs, and that bearing exposed clothing was entirely normal among them. Surely this Demon Emperor ought to be long used to such things?

Never mind—after all, this was a three-hundred-year-old little kitten, not yet of age.

Chen Moqing pulled up the covers and gently draped them over that soft, limp little white sugar cake, then closed his eyes and stilled his mind, his spiritual consciousness sinking into the spiritual sea, gazing from afar at the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree beyond the great divide.

A talisman seal left behind by an immortal—though he had reproduced it himself, it was not entirely under his control. It seemed to still preserve a trace of the immortal's will, blocking the path of his cultivation.

Chen Moqing's spiritual consciousness sat in meditation, facing the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree from a distance. With one hand forming a seal, countless talisman runes swirled around him, laying out a vast and boundless starry river, lighting up the long sky of the spiritual sea one by one.

He intended to use the true essence of the talisman path to refine the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree once more—to contend, within his own spiritual sea, against an immortal from ten thousand years ago!

The private room was completely silent, with only talisman runes flickering faintly, accompanied by the surging flow of spiritual energy.

The covers formed a gentle arch, and a fuzzy snow-white head peeked out. Those round demon pupils snuck a furtive glance upward, their gaze darting swiftly across the open expanse below the young human's collar.

It looked away, expression blank.

Two seconds passed, and it snuck another furtive glance.

It shifted its gaze away, perfectly composed.

Two more seconds.

It looked again, this time with complete and unabashed boldness.

…Why wasn't he dressed properly!

Cang Shun leaped onto the person's lap and, with a few swipes of his paw, drew the slightly parted robes together a little.

Was he not afraid of… not afraid of catching a chill!

This Demon Emperor grumbled on and on inwardly, while at the same time settling down to lie across Chen Moqing's knees, his slender tail sweeping back and forth across the hem of his fallen robes, continuing to grumble away in his heart.

The demon race really had it better—all of them had fur to cover their bodies, and even those less fortunate had scales and armor. This human's skin was so pale, and so smooth, would a single gust of wind not send a chill right through him.

After a short while, Cang Shun silently lifted his head again.

Even in the midst of cultivation, that person remained as upright as a stalk of bamboo. His collar was loosely and slightly undone, framing the side of his neck like white porcelain, his collarbone like jade. His chest was not thin or frail—it was covered in a layer of evenly lean muscle, suffused with a cool and lustrous jade-like tone.

At the very end of his parted robes, a length of vivid crimson branches lay still against pale skin—as breathtaking and striking as red plum blossoms against white frost.

Cang Shun gazed for a long while at that boldly blooming crimson.

The aura of the Great Path.

Yet it was a "Dao" different from the present Heavenly Dao— older, and more… pure.

Cang Shun's gaze turned cold and sharp in an instant, and a surging wave of demon energy swept outward—not directed at the human who appeared entirely unguarded, but forcefully layered over the surrounding space, pressing down upon the aura of this area again and again, sealing off every crack through which even the slightest hint might leak.

The snow-white demon beast's form expanded explosively, its immense body swelling upward like a towering and unreachable snow-capped mountain—and then the mountain range lay down, the fierce blizzard came to an abrupt halt, and it settled beside that upright stalk of green bamboo.

Without a word, Cang Shun lowered his head, pressing his jaw against the person's hair, and slowly, gently rubbed against it. His tail quietly coiled around his waist, and he guarded over him in quiet stillness.

Within the spiritual sea, Chen Moqing was making his way along a dark and lightless great path.

The feeling was not unfamiliar. Three years ago, when he had refined the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree, he had felt as though he had walked into an ancient great path—ahead lay boundless and endless darkness, and he alone was walking it, as though making his way from the primordial wilderness to the very edge of the world's end.

At that time, he had ignited his essence blood, using blood as a lamp to light the path beneath his feet, and had suddenly arrived at a moment of clarity, from which he ultimately refined the Withered Wood Spring Revival Decree.

And now, he heard a long and ancient sigh—one that seemed to have passed through endless ages, through the deepest darkness in the world, and drifted down lightly to settle beside him.

"A path untrodden by any for tens of thousands of years. Why come here, and why put yourself through this?"

The spiritual sea quaked violently, heaving and churning like an overturned river. Chen Moqing abruptly coughed up a mouthful of blood, his dark hair falling loose, blood rolling down to the tips of his trembling fingers, congealing into a glaring streak of red against the pallor.

That streak of red seeped into Cang Shun's demon pupils in an instant.

【Chen Moqing!】

Chen Moqing coughed up another great mouthful of blood. The crimson branches across his pale skin surged and climbed in a frenzy, like blood splattered across snow—and very soon—they crept past his heart!

【Moqing—!】

–

TL: Muji

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