Chapter 220: The Hidden Sect of Yunmeng Mountain
His face was smeared with mud and ash, but his eyes burned bright, as though he had finally seized a long-awaited opportunity.
“Fellow Daoist, I have what you are looking for.”
Song Yan stared at him in bewilderment, saying nothing.
The youth’s handsome face was taut with apprehension. His gaze darted about. “It is the True-Felling Vine, is it not? I have it, I have it. Whatever you do, do not let them throw me out.”
Song Yan’s heart lurched. His brow furrowed, and the amusement he had felt moments before drained away.
This person had eavesdropped on his conversation with Shopkeeper Zhang?
Yet at the time, he had detected no surveillance whatsoever.
Moreover, this was merely a mortal.
His brow still furrowed, Song Yan had not yet opened his mouth to question him when two stewards ofLanxi Market came rushing over.
One of them shouted sternly, “Hold it right there! You mortal — how dare you trespass upon a cultivator’s domain?”
The other hastened to bow in apology to Song Yan. “Fellow Daoist, this may be a mortal who lost his way on Sun Yang Mountain and stumbled into the market by chance. We had stopped him earlier, but in a moment of inattention, the boy slipped through and disturbed you. Please accept our apologies.”
As he spoke, he reached out to seize the youth.
The youth gripped Song Yan’s sleeve with a desperate hold and cried out, “Fellow Daoist, I truly have it, I—”
Song Yan raised a hand to signal the two stewards to wait. His divine sense swept silently over the youth’s body.
His meridians were empty. His Dantian held no trace of qi.
There was absolutely no fluctuation of spiritual energy. He was an ordinary mortal, nothing more.
But therein lay the problem.
The True-Felling Vine was an exceedingly precious herb. Had Song Yan not obtained the Thousand-Pill Formula, he would never even have heard its name.
Let alone a mortal — even a low-level cultivator like himself might not know of it.
How could this person dare to deceive him in a place full of cultivators?
And furthermore, how had this person known he needed this item?
His gaze darkened. He asked at once, “Who told you I needed this?”
The mortal had not yet responded when the market stewards grew impatient.
Though they did not know what this mortal possessed, it was evidently something Song Yan required.
One of them spoke up at once, “Fellow Daoist, do not listen to this mortal’s nonsense! How could a mortal possibly obtain the spirit herbs that cultivators need?”
The youth glanced at the two stewards without offering rebuttal. His eyes merely rolled, and his gaze settled on Song Yan.
“It is of no consequence.” Song Yan deliberated a moment, then waved his hand. “Very well, stewards — allow me to question him myself.”
“He is but a mortal. He cannot stir up any trouble.”
“If he truly has news of a spirit herb, that would be a great help to me. Whether he stays or goes shall be his choice.”
“If he is lying to me — heh, then there will be no need for him to leave at all.”
Upon hearing these words, the youth showed no trace of fear. He nodded repeatedly.
“Well…”
The two stewards exchanged glances.
But in the end, they did not press the matter. What he said was not wrong in the slightest. In the end, this was merely a mortal — he could not cause any real disturbance.
After a few brief instructions, they departed.
Song Yan led the youth away from the market to a secluded grove.
He casually produced a formation disk and laid down a sound-isolation formation.
“What is your name?”
The youth cleared his throat and performed a deep, formal bow. “My name is Wang Ke, style name Anning, a native of Cloud Dream Mountain.”
Cloud Dream Mountain?
Did such a place exist in the State of Chu? Song Yan had never heard of it.
He fixed his gaze upon the youth before him, his voice taking on a slight chill. “You — were eavesdropping on my conversation with Shopkeeper Zhang?”
“Er…”
The youth seemed somewhat embarrassed and hurried to apologize. “Fellow Daoist Song, I truly am sorry. I was driven to desperation, and so…”
“How did you manage it?”
Song Yan had no interest in hearing his apologies. He asked only this.
“Ah?” The youth faltered.
“I detected no one observing or probing the area. You are a mortal — how did you accomplish this?”
Setting aside mortals, even among cultivators, with Song Yan’s current divine sense, the only way to secretly overhear his conversations undetected was if the other party also possessed specialized techniques for cultivating divine sense. Otherwise, one would need to be at least at the Foundation Establishment Stage to achieve it.
It was precisely because of this that Song Yan had been willing to spend time on a mortal.
That this person actually possessed a True-Felling Vine — Song Yan did not believe it for a moment.
In his estimation, this person had employed some petty trick and happened to overhear his conversation with Shopkeeper Zhang.
As for his motive, it was no different from any mortal seeking to enter a cultivation sect — he wished to be taken in.
Once he explained his situation, Song Yan would simply escort him out ofLanxi Cave.
Those threatening words had been nothing but talk.
A mortal merely seeking to gain an advantage through cunning — there was no need for anger or killing.
Yet upon hearing Song Yan’s words, Wang Ke did not answer.
He simply extended one hand. In his palm, hidden from view, was a single white Go stone.
“Hm?”
Song Yan was about to ask when the stone suddenly cracked with a soft pop.
A flash of spirit light, and the stone vanished.
In its place lay a length of withered vine.
The vine’s surface carried a dark golden sheen. Though dried, faint spirit light still flowed through its veins.
Song Yan’s pupils contracted sharply.
The True-Felling Vine!
“You…”
He was utterly shocked, having never anticipated what had just occurred. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak.
Wang Ke chuckled, then began to explain. “Fellow Daoist, you may not know this, but I am in fact a cultivator as well, hailing from a small, reclusive sect.”
“However, our sect maintains certain old customs and rules. When disciples descend the mountain to roam the world, they must seal their entire cultivation before they may leave the sect.”
He spoke with evident helplessness.
Song Yan was startled.
“What manner of rule is this?”
If a disciple roaming the mortal world encountered martial artists or bandits and perished, it would be a most unworthy death.
“Isn’t that the truth.” Wang Ke looked equally indignant. “Nothing but outdated traditions!”
“Then are you not afraid that I might kill you here and now and seize the spirit herb?”
“Ha ha ha.” Upon hearing this, Wang Ke suddenly laughed. “Fellow Daoist, do not try to frighten me. I know fortune-telling — you are certainly not a bloodthirsty person.”
Song Yan said nothing.
But of all other matters, he cared little. The True-Felling Vine was right before him, and that meant his Foundation Establishment Pill was within reach.
How could one not be excited?
“Tell me — what must I give you in exchange for this spirit herb?”
“Very simple. In one month, escort me to Northern Tooth Mountain for the Go tournament. Then, after it concludes, deliver me to the Chu capital. That is all.”
“Escort?”
Song Yan’s brow furrowed.
Escort implied that there was certain danger involved.
“Heh heh.” Wang Ke chuckled. “A few days ago, I showed my wealth and caught the attention of several cultivators.”
“But rest assured, Fellow Daoist — they are all at the Qi Refining Stage. If they pursue us, you may simply kill them all.”
“They are thoroughly wicked — consider it a service to the world.”
Song Yan was baffled.
Why did this person seem so confident in his strength?
After a moment’s silence, a wisp of sword qi surged into his eyes as the Void-Gazing Sword Pupils activated.
Seeing the change in Song Yan’s eyes, Wang Ke started. “Fellow Daoist, what are you doing?”
“Your sect…” Song Yan extended a finger as he spoke, “— does not seem like a small sect at all.”
Hum—
A thread of sword qi slowly coalesced and touched the space before Wang Ke’s brow.
In the void, ripples spread like water. Ink-black vertical and horizontal lines appeared, forming the corner of a chessboard.
The sword qi was firmly blocked, then rapidly dissolved.
“This level of restriction — unless you provoked several Foundation Establishment cultivators to attack you simultaneously, how could you ever be in danger?”
Wang Ke touched his unharmed forehead and smiled ruefully. “I know they cannot harm me. But they could trap and capture me.”
“After all, I am no different from a mortal right now and cannot resist. What I fear most is missing the Go tournament.”
Song Yan grew ever more curious. “What is so special about this Go tournament?”
“Special?” Wang Ke blinked. “Nothing special.”
“Then are there precious rewards? Spirit herbs?” Song Yan pressed.
Wang Ke paused briefly, considered, and finally replied, “No. Only a game record.”
“If there is no special opportunity and no rare reward, then why do you risk attending this Go tournament?”
Wang Ke froze, then spread his hands. “Because I simply enjoy playing Go.”
Song Yan fell silent.
He found it difficult to understand what went through the minds of those who were consumed by the arts of the heart.
But it mattered little. The journey fromLanxi Cave to Northern Tooth Mountain was not far, and from Northern Tooth Mountain to the Chu capital, though some distance, it was nothing to a cultivator.
To escort someone a short way and receive such a precious spirit herb in return — he was practically getting it for nothing.
He had originally wanted to ask why someone as wealthy as Wang Ke did not seek help from another, but after a moment’s thought, decided against it.
If he asked and the other party realized it made sense and left, where would he find another True-Felling Vine?
What Song Yan did not know was this:
The True-Felling Vine was exceedingly precious, and the State of Chu, being remote and poor in cultivation resources, had long since seen many spirit herbs vanish entirely from its territory.
The pills that required this ingredient had been revised by various alchemical masters over the ages, and versions that did not require it had been developed.
Over time, the cultivators of the Qi Refining Stage had almost entirely forgotten what it looked like.
Many had only ever seen its name in pill formula texts, and even if placed before them, they would not recognize it.
And this was the only item in Wang Ke’s Cosmos Bag that someone recognized and desperately needed.
Song Yan did not dither. He nodded his agreement at once. Just as they were to discuss the terms, Wang Ke spoke first.
“I shall give you one piece now.”
He pressed the withered vine into Song Yan’s hand.
Song Yan stared blankly at the withered vine in his grasp, a look of confusion and disbelief in his eyes.
“When we reach Northern Tooth Mountain, I shall give you another piece. And when we reach the Chu capital, a third.”
Wang Ke rubbed his hands together.
In his clear eyes, there was not a trace of reluctance over the spirit herb — only a burning desire to play Go.
“You…”
Now, Song Yan was genuinely considering the possibility of killing and robbing him.
What was this person’s background?
He had originally assumed Wang Ke would hand over a piece only after reaching the Chu capital, once the tournament had concluded.
The preciousness of the True-Felling Vine went without saying.
Song Yan had searched markets in countless places and found no trace of it.
Sheng Nian and his group had explored an ancient cultivator’s cave dwelling, and their Cosmos Bags had contained none of it either.
Yet this person had produced three pieces in a single gesture.
Could he be from a sect renowned for cultivating rare spirit herbs?
In Song Yan’s memory, there was no such place in the State of Chu.
With such abundant spiritual resources — could he be a core disciple of the Profound Abyss Sect?
But he had never heard of the Profound Abyss Sect having a rule that required disciples to seal their cultivation when roaming the world.
“Agreed.”
Song Yan nodded, accepting the arrangement.
Wang Ke’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, Fellow Daoist Song — I have not yet asked your honored name?”
“Song Yan. My courtesy name is Yesheng.”
“Then I shall trouble Fellow Daoist Song.”
The Go tournament at Northern Tooth Mountain was still a month away, and Song Yan had no intention of allowing a stranger to take up residence in the Unnamed Valley.
He therefore found a lodging inLanxi Market — the Wangxian Inn — and paid a month’s spirit stones for this “mortal” Wang Ke to stay there temporarily.
The moment Wang Ke entered his room, he carefully withdrew the contents of his bag.
They were all Go boards and game records.
He was truly obsessed with this art.
Song Yan agreed upon a time with him: they would depart five days before the tournament began, arriving at Northern Tooth Mountain three days early.
Afterward, he leftLanxi Market and returned to the Unnamed Valley.
He went straight to his cave dwelling and entered the pill chamber where his sword-path pill furnace stood.
From his Cosmos Bag, he withdrew the piece of True-Felling Vine and turned it over and over in his hands, examining it from every angle.
Though he had never seen a True-Felling Vine before, this piece brimmed with spiritual energy, held in reserve but potent — it clearly met every standard required for alchemy.
“This is absurd…”
Song Yan murmured to himself.
He had imagined countless scenarios in which he might obtain this herb.
Perhaps finding it in a lost secret realm, or seizing it from a demonic cultivator’s Cosmos Bag after slaying them, or winning it at an auction during his travels.
He had never expected that this herb would ultimately be delivered to his doorstep by a strange “mortal.”
“Cloud Dream Mountain…”
He turned the name over and over in his mind, but found no memory of the place.
Unable to recall it, he decided to stop trying. The outcome was good, and that was enough.
“The iron shoes are worn through in fruitless search, only to obtain it without effort.”
This piece of True-Felling Vine was roughly four inches long. As a primary ingredient, it would allow Song Yan to attempt refining the improved Foundation Establishment Pill four times.
Once he delivered Wang Ke to the Chu capital and received the full vine, that would mean at least twelve attempts.
“If I cannot succeed even once in twelve tries, I, Song Yan, will never refine pills again in this lifetime.”
He set this fierce vow in his heart.
Then he carefully stored the True-Felling Vine, rested briefly, and laid out the ingredients for the No-Thought Pill.
He prepared to attempt the No-Thought Pill once more.
Now that the True-Felling Vine was secured, Song Yan intended to accelerate his progress and gain experience for the Foundation Establishment Pill as soon as possible.
He sat cross-legged, his sleeves stirring without wind.
The ugly, toad-lidded pill furnace sat quietly on the ground before him, its surface patterns emitting a faint glow.
His fingertip tapped lightly upon the sword furnace, and a thread of sword qi, fine as silk, plunged into the furnace. Within, a soft hum resonated.
The toad opened its mouth and exhaled. Between the furnace’s lid and base, a ring-shaped field of sword qi materialized out of thin air. Dark crimson Karmic Blaze clung to it and circulated within.
His left hand hovered, supporting nothing, while his right hand formed a sword incantation. Sword qi surged from the Town-Dao Sword Manor like a tide.
The sword qi and the Karmic Blaze yielded to one another, and at last formed a semi-transparent phantom of a crimson-gold pill furnace.
Here, one could not help but marvel at the genius of Senior Chen Yi.
In this manner, the stability of the sword qi input was vastly improved.
And all he need do was focus his full attention on controlling the sword qi’s handling of the pill ingredients.
(End of Chapter)