Chapter 342
Chapter 342: A Feast to Wash Away the Dust
Yuan Ling set a lavish banquet in the Immortal Dining Hall of Parted Clouds Palace to welcome the distinguished guests who had come from far away in Borderland—though for Yu Sheng, it didn’t feel that far at all.
There weren’t many people at the table. Besides Xuan Che and Yuan Ling, whom Yu Sheng already knew, there were only a few inner disciples present to accompany the feast. It didn’t become the awkward scene Yu Sheng had been dreading, with a hall full of strangers gathered just to watch him eat.
Even so, the food itself left Yu Sheng wide-eyed.
Strictly speaking, there were barely any dishes he could identify, even though Xuan Che had promised in advance that everything had been prepared to suit Borderland tastes.
“I always thought once cultivators reached a certain realm, you’d just live on wind and dew and survive on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth,” Yu Sheng said, staring at the table. “I didn’t expect you’d be this serious about food.”
“Those who live on wind and dew exist, and those who draw spiritual energy from heaven and earth exist,” Yuan Ling said with a smile. Seated at the table, he put on no airs; he looked more like a cheerful old man than a lofty immortal. “And those who delight in the pleasures of the mouth—and can comprehend the Dao from a sip and a bite—certainly exist as well.”
He lifted his cup slightly, as if weighing the idea in his palm. “Cultivation refines the heart. What you refine is a clear spirit-mirror that obeys your will. Hardship is not the goal. The Dao exists in all things, and has never been bound by form.”
“I remember Elder Martial Uncle once cultivated the fasting method?” Xuan Che asked, curiosity in his voice. “But later I heard he said the results weren’t good, so he didn’t continue…”
“He cultivated my ass!” Yuan Ling exploded, all dignity evaporating in an instant. “He had me refine two hundred fasting pills and said he was going to fast for ten years. Then he ate every single one in a night. The next day he told me he’d comprehended ‘compressed fasting art’—said one day contained ten years of progress—and ordered me to refine two hundred more, white-flower-cake flavored!”
He glared across the table like the memory itself had personally offended him. “Don’t listen to the nonsense he brags to you. Cultivation by sheer toughness doesn’t work.”
Yu Sheng didn’t know where to put his face while listening, but he did learn one thing: around here, it was perfectly normal for master and disciple to complain about some “odd genius” together. Even the inner disciples at the table didn’t react at all to the legendary deeds of this Elder Martial Uncle. They just kept their heads down and ate like their lives depended on it.
Yu Sheng looked around again—and the first thing he noticed was Zheng Zhi sitting nearby.
To be honest, Yu Sheng had worried about him at first. Big Nephew had been dragged over in a haze, still looking utterly blank even after they entered Parted Clouds Palace. Yu Sheng had even considered opening another door and sending him back.
Now, he realized he’d worried too much.
Big Nephew was also keeping his head down and eating like his life depended on it, fully embodying the healthy mindset of: I’m out with the boss, the food is better, who cares where we are, eat first.
Years of living with high-sensitivity, low-stability had forged his nerves into something stubborn and resilient. If nothing else, he was frighteningly good at adapting.
Of course, the fiercest eater at the table was still Foxy.
She practically never lifted her head. It didn’t matter what landed in her bowl—if it was food, she shoveled it in. Two Irenes stood on the tabletop beside her, holding plates and dumping food straight into her bowl, mostly because it was fun. They almost couldn’t pour fast enough to keep up.
Yu Sheng had brought three with him, not counting Zheng Zhi. Two of them were dolls who couldn’t eat human food, so they couldn’t truly enjoy the feast.
Foxy alone made up for all of it—and then some.
At least half the disciples around the table were eating so fiercely because they could feel the crushing survival pressure radiating off the demon fox girl.
Yuan Ling noticed the commotion too. He lifted his head, glanced around, and watched his disciples wolf down food like they were in a life-or-death sprint. He couldn’t help shaking his head. Then he smiled helplessly and apologized to Yu Sheng. “My disciples are usually strictly disciplined, but they truly aren’t familiar with proper manners when hosting others. Sorry to make you laugh.”
“No problem, no problem.” Yu Sheng waved quickly. “I actually prefer this. If you arranged a circle of people so proper that putting down chopsticks takes eighteen steps, and lifting a cup means everyone has to recite a five-minute drinking speech, I couldn’t eat at all. I’d be too busy surviving the meal.”
“Then that’s excellent, excellent!” Yuan Ling laughed, genuinely pleased. “As long as you don’t blame us for poor hospitality, ha!”
Xuan Che glanced around and asked softly, “Master, why didn’t Martial Uncle Yuan He come?”
“He went to receive your Martial Uncle,” Yuan Ling sighed, then turned to explain to Yu Sheng. “Yuan He is my junior brother and oversees the beast-taming line of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain. With a distinguished guest at our door, he should have come to greet you as well. But my senior brother… suffered some calamities. He only just escaped by luck and needs someone to receive him, so Yuan He went to fetch him.”
He frowned, as if annoyed by the timing itself. “It should have worked out. Normally, even with speed, Xuan Che returning from Borderland would have taken three to five days. Who would have thought he’d arrive today?”
“That’s on me too,” Yu Sheng said with an awkward smile. “I acted on impulse and messed up your arrangements. I didn’t plan that far ahead.”
“No, you can’t say it like that.” Yuan Ling waved quickly, expression resigned. “It’s my senior brother who causes trouble… and makes our guest witness a joke.”
He hesitated, then continued more seriously. “To be honest, I know you came partly for my senior brother’s many strange experiences from years ago, hoping to learn from him. But my senior brother Yuan Hao is… a wandering, unruly sort. He truly has had countless strange encounters, but when he tells stories, he always exaggerates and embellishes. It’s not reliable. Listen for reference, but don’t take it too seriously.”
“It’s not that bad, is it?” Yu Sheng’s expression turned subtle. “I’ve heard some of Elder Martial Uncle’s adventures from Xuan Che. The stories are wild, but as an adventurer, he’s honestly impressive. Most people don’t have his guts—or his luck.”
“Adventurer. Not a bad label.” Yuan Ling sighed. “If only he could just be a proper sect leader…”
Yu Sheng froze. He stared at Yuan Ling—white hair, white beard, immortal bearing that screamed “sect leader” from head to toe. “…Isn’t the sect leader of Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain you?”
“No. I’m the acting Vice Sect Master.”
Yuan Ling looked utterly resigned as he said it. He lifted his cup and drained it in one go, like he’d compressed centuries of resentment into a single swallow.
“Back then I shouldn’t have taken his seal. I shouldn’t have let him fool me into accepting this burden… Sigh. I was young and didn’t understand. I truly thought Senior Brother wouldn’t harm me.”
Xuan Che immediately leaned forward. “Master, you’ve had too much.”
“I’ve had too little,” Yuan Ling snapped, glaring. “If I’d had too much, I’d be sword-flying out of the mountain right now to find your Martial Uncle!”
Xuan Che lowered his head. “You can’t sword-fly after drinking…”
Yuan Ling stared at him for a long moment, then ended with a heavy sigh. “Such an honest child. Just like me back then.”
Yu Sheng didn’t dare join that topic, so he laughed dryly and changed the subject fast. “Right—about the Hermitage Order activity…”
“I’ve already heard of it from Director Bai Li,” Yuan Ling said. The moment the Holy Revere Hermitage came up, his expression shifted into seriousness. “I’ve arranged for our disciples posted at the border to return to the nests where Hermitage Order traces were discovered back then and check again for any overlooked clues. I also arranged for people to review the files from that time to see if anything was missed. In addition, I contacted the other major sects on the Grand Void Spiritual Axis, hoping they take this seriously and watch closely within their territories for any traces of those evil heretics.”
Seeing Yu Sheng’s curiosity, he added, “The Featherwing Star Domain is not quite like your Borderland. On its capital, the Grand Void Spiritual Axis, it isn’t a case of one faction ruling alone. My Thousand Peak Spirit Mountain is respected as the first among immortals, but on Grand Void there are also major sects like Distant Mist Sect, Heng Xu, Nethergloom Valley, and Reclining Cloud Ten Halls—each no weaker than Thousand Peak.”
“The five great sects jointly govern the Grand Void Spiritual Axis,” Yuan Ling continued. “Each has its own sphere of influence in the Featherwing Star Domain. We are friendly neighbors, but I cannot command them.”
Yu Sheng listened carefully, absorbing the knowledge of a world beyond Borderland.
Meanwhile, Irene—still feeding Foxy like she was shoveling coal into a furnace—suddenly blurted out, “Then you don’t fight?”
“Rude,” Yu Sheng said, shooting her a look.
Then he turned right back to Yuan Ling and asked, “Then you don’t fight?”
Yuan Ling’s brows lifted, and for a moment he looked almost amused. “Fight? That’s old world history.”
Yu Sheng blinked. He hadn’t expected that phrase from an immortal who looked like he’d walked straight out of a legend.
“Yes. The old world.” Yuan Ling stroked his beard, voice turning distant. “The second singularity eruption was like an invisible chasm across the river of time, dividing the old from the new. The Grand Void Spiritual Axis has many cultivators. Ancient monsters dwell here. Strange books and old scrolls remain. So we have more records of the old world, and the matter of ‘re-Genesis’ is more widely understood. Even so… many records are already blurred.”
He gazed ahead, as if staring through the ceiling and into centuries. “But some things can be confirmed. The Featherwing Star Domain once had days of immortal sect warfare. It even seems that until the very last moment of the old world, this world never truly became peaceful. Even after heaven and earth reopened and the cosmos was reshaped, the Grand Void Spiritual Axis continued to struggle for a time out of inertia.”
His voice softened. “But that is all in the past.”
“Now, everyone has fought enough. After the rebirth of the cosmos, the ancestor patriarchs who were the fiercest fighters seemed to realize something. One after another, they withdrew from the mortal world. They left behind this reopened heaven and earth, and at last, peace has lasted to the present day.”