Chapter Twenty-One: The Village in the Mist

Chen Jiu noticed something: the giant bird that had flown from Building “C” would reach Mount Tainan before them.

In other words, those wealthy scions would gather more spiritual herbs than the rest of the participants.

“It seems the waters of this Ascension Gathering run deeper than I thought...”

At that moment, the elder leading the group stood at the base of the giant bird’s neck, hands clasped behind his back, and announced, “Mount Tainan is now under a powerful restriction. Only those who have registered may enter. But remember this above all else: for the three days of the gathering, you must not leave the bounds of Mount Tainan alone, or bear the consequences yourself...”

After reading out the final rule, the elder handed each of them a palm-sized pouch.

“This pouch has been enchanted. For a limited time, it can store a large quantity of spiritual herbs. Place whatever you gather inside.”

Chen Jiu’s heart stirred as he examined the faintly glowing pouch in his hand. In the novels he had read, there was an item called a “storage pouch,” capable of holding many things—a necessity for cultivators.

He wondered if items for long-term storage existed in this world...

As their altitude suddenly began to drop, Chen Jiu set his musings aside.

The mist around them thickened, an aura of mystery pressing close.

Mount Tainan lay directly ahead.

Soon, the giant bird landed smoothly on the ground.

The group scrambled off, awaiting further instructions.

The lead elder stroked his goatee and spoke gravely, “Remember, you may not stray beyond the restriction, may not engage in deadly combat, nor privately pocket any spiritual herbs...”

“Enough! Go forth!” called another elder in a loud voice.

Excited, the cultivators dashed eagerly in all directions, vanishing into the white mist.

Once the last participant had left, the elders exchanged glances and nodded in silent understanding.

...

Chen Jiu ran through the dense, fog-shrouded forest, heading purposefully onward.

Despite the thick mist, he was able to roughly determine his direction.

Mount Tainan faced south, so the southern woods were naturally denser.

Combined with the lushness of the forest, he could roughly orient himself.

At that moment, the “Heavenly Eye” on Chen Jiu’s forehead appeared, flickering with purple light.

“East!” came Zixuan’s sudden voice. “Fifty paces!”

Chen Jiu’s expression shifted, and he immediately changed course, heading east.

Soon, he crouched beside a tree so thick it would take four people to encircle it.

Parting the dense undergrowth, he found a stalk of spiritual herb glimmering with a faint white light.

“Got it!” Chen Jiu exclaimed with delight, quickly harvesting the herb and putting it into his pouch.

“How about that! Am I amazing, or what? Little Dough Face?” Zixuan boasted proudly.

Chen Jiu nodded solemnly. “Canine creatures really do have sensitive noses.”

Zixuan didn’t know what “canine creatures” meant, but she sensed it wasn’t a compliment.

“What do you mean, sensitive nose? It’s my spiritual sense—so powerful that I can feel the strongest spiritual fluctuations in an area! Otherwise, you’d never gather enough herbs in this vast mountain, not even with thirty days.” Zixuan sniffed indignantly.

Chen Jiu chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his nose.

This fox spirit’s spiritual sense was indeed formidable. Not only could she break free from the “Heavenly Eye’s” constraints, she could also swiftly sense spiritual herbs. With her help, perhaps he could take first place.

The thought spurred him on with renewed energy.

“Where to next?”

After a moment’s silence, Zixuan replied, “Southeast, about a hundred and fifty paces!”

Chen Jiu’s eyes lit up and he ran off in that direction.

The process of searching for spiritual herbs was simple—Zixuan provided the location, and Chen Jiu did the gathering.

Soon, dusk began to fall. The surrounding mist grew thicker and churned restlessly.

As darkness deepened, Chen Jiu grew puzzled.

“We’ve been running for more than half a day, but haven’t seen a single person!”

Zixuan pondered a moment. “Perhaps they climbed the mountain. Without a powerful spiritual sense, they’d find few herbs at the foot. Naturally, they’d head for the summit, where spiritual energy is richer.”

Chen Jiu nodded in agreement. “Let’s go. There aren’t many herbs left here anyway. We should try higher up.”

With Zixuan’s navigation, he could avoid obstacles easily. Nightfall was no trouble.

...

After two and a half hours, Chen Jiu reckoned he’d reached about halfway up the mountain.

Now, the forest was pitch black—he couldn’t see his hand before his face.

“Wait—” Zixuan exclaimed in surprise.

“What is it?” Chen Jiu asked anxiously.

After a few breaths, Zixuan replied doubtfully, “Why has there suddenly been a massive fluctuation of spiritual energy straight ahead?”

But a moment later, she cried out, “No! There’s even primordial energy from heaven and earth mixed in!”

Chen Jiu’s heart skipped a beat. “Just ahead?”

“Yes. Still, be cautious.”

Chen Jiu frowned. “A sudden burst of energy like that—could be a trap. Better to go around. It’s not necessarily a rare spirit herb.”

“Are you scared?” Zixuan taunted.

“That’s called caution, not cowardice,” Chen Jiu retorted, and turned to leave.

But at that instant, disaster struck.

A ghostly blue light suddenly flared behind Chen Jiu!

“Watch out!” Zixuan cried.

But it was too late. The eerie blue light exploded outward, enveloping Chen Jiu in an instant.

His expression changed dramatically, but before he could react, his vision blurred, his mind reeled, and he lost consciousness.

As he collapsed, the purple glow on his brow flickered, and Zixuan emerged from within in a flash of light.

She landed, returning to her human form.

“Something’s not right... A restriction?!” Her willow brows furrowed as she studied the blue barrier around them.

She glanced at the unconscious Chen Jiu and sighed. “This Dough Face Daoist is so weak. Just a little spiritual attack and he passes out... Should I really be relying on him?”

With a huff, Zixuan sat beside Chen Jiu and raised a purple shield to protect him.

After an attack on the mind, he mustn’t be forcefully awakened, or madness would result.

He could only recover naturally, when his own spiritual sense returned.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

After a long while, Chen Jiu groaned and slowly regained consciousness.

“How long was I out?” he asked, but froze at the sound of his own voice.

Dawn had broken. The thick mist that should have been swirling around had completely vanished!

He leapt up, alarmed.

Zixuan recounted in detail the strange events of the previous night.

“So, we’re inside a restriction?” Chen Jiu asked, gazing at the clear surroundings in surprise.

Zixuan’s robes drifted in the breeze, as if she might soar away at any moment. Looking toward a patch of farmland up ahead, she said uneasily, “There’s a surge of spiritual energy up there!”

Chen Jiu nodded. With the restriction enclosing them, the only option was to break out from within.

Not to mention the mist disappearing for no reason—the sudden appearance of a vast, open plain was shocking enough.

“Return to the Heavenly Eye. If someone sees you, it’ll be trouble,” Chen Jiu said.

Zixuan agreed, and after returning to the “Heavenly Eye Space,” she suggested, “Go take a look—the spiritual energy is very dense over there.”

Chen Jiu nodded, drew the peachwood sword from his pack, and carefully made his way toward the plain.

After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the scene around him changed dramatically.

Not only was there a grove of peach blossoms bordering a small stream, but at the end of that stream appeared rows of orderly farmland.

And in the fields, people were bending over, busy at their work.

At a glance, Chen Jiu was stunned.

Spiritual herbs! Every field was planted with glowing, luminescent herbs!

It seemed to be a village—a village shrouded in mist...