Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Traveling with Meng Han, A Deckside Argument
Less than half a day after Zhao Chun sent her message, Meng Han appeared.
He looked nothing like he used to. A gold crown sat on his head, brocade boots on his feet, and a dark robe patterned with subtle shadows draped his shoulders. He wore the air of someone riding high—though his dark face still wasn’t exactly what anyone would call handsome.
“I haven’t even congratulated you yet, Senior Brother Meng!”
Zhao Chun had come out of the Threefold Stone Forest and stopped first at Lookout’s End Cliff. Xu Feng told her Meng Han had already passed the grand assessment. He’d reached the Foundation Establishment Stage as well, and his Rock-Jade Stone Root foundation was sturdier than most. His grade was Lower A, making him one of the top Inner Sect disciples.
Meng Han had received her message talisman at a banquet and run out immediately, still dressed for the occasion.
Since earning his Lower A grade, he’d become inexplicably popular. People who used to call him “Black Barbarian” now cupped their hands and called him “Senior Brother.”
Invitations had piled up until they filled half his cave dwelling, pestering him for days.
The host today was a prominent senior in the Inner Sect—late Foundation Establishment, and an elder’s personal disciple. Not someone you offended lightly.
“What’s there to congratulate?” Meng Han said. He ripped off the crown and gripped it in his fist as if it had personally wronged him. “Foundation Establishment is more trouble than Qi Refining. If it weren’t for you, Junior Sister, I’d still be trapped there for hours.”
Then, as if remembering something, he added, “Oh—today’s host is Du Fan Zhi. He’s your direct senior brother. I heard he’s under Elder Li, so he let me slip away.”
Someone like that wouldn’t grant Zhao Chun face out of pure kindness. She didn’t buy it.
Meng Han scratched the side of his nose. “There were plenty of Foundation Establishment disciples there. They didn’t need me.”
Only then did Zhao Chun realize the banquet wasn’t thrown just for him. It was a broad gathering, and he’d simply been swept in with the rest.
“Immortals and mortals are the same when it comes to social obligations,” Zhao Chun said.
Meng Han nodded hard. “Exactly.”
She invited him inside. Once they were seated, Meng Han looked her over and said, “You’re fast too. A few months ago I heard you were still at the fifth level of Qi Refining. Now you’ve broken through.”
“I ran the Threefold Stone Forest a few times and got lucky.”
“That place really is good for tempering,” Meng Han said. He’d gone himself, but he focused on body cultivation. The stone forest didn’t suit him, and he’d stopped visiting.
After a round of catching up, he finally brought up the old sect ruins.
“Senior Brother Xu and I went east. We were almost at the Eastern Domain when we found the place. It’s probably the remains of a small sect from thousands of years ago. Evil cultivators attacked them. The sect refused to hand over their accumulated wealth, so they used a secret art and sealed the entire sect underground. About a hundred years ago, rogue cultivators dug it out, and that’s when people in the area learned it existed.”
“Over the past century, plenty of cultivators have gone down to explore. Most of the rare treasures have been taken already. My Rock-Jade Stone Root was only because it’s scarce—and it was hidden in a crack deep underground.”
“But the people around there understand not to drain a pond dry. They leave spirit herbs and spirit woods to keep growing, so the fated can still take what they need. They call it building good karma.”
“And the sect was called the Windflame Sect. They specialized in forging. I’ve heard people have even pulled refining inheritances out of the ruins, so you should try your luck too, Junior Sister.”
“If you don’t find anything, it’s fine. There are still body-refining spirit medicines in the ruins’ herb garden—perfect for us. If we can pick a few, the trip won’t be wasted.”
Zhao Chun nodded along, then asked when they would leave.
Meng Han sprang to his feet with a grin. “Right now. Let me escape a few more banquets.”
Zhao Chun laughed. She had nothing urgent to handle, and her belongings were already in order. After a brief discussion, they agreed to depart immediately.
The ruins lay near the boundary where two domains met. The journey was long. Traveling by Mist Skiff would burn through talismans and time.
In Heng Yun World, long trips were often made on massive nine-sail beasthead ships that crossed the Cloud Sea—covering a thousand miles in a day.
The ship itself was expensive, and boarding wasn’t cheap. A lower cabin cost 100 cui stones. A mid cabin cost 200. An upper cabin cost 500.
If you truly couldn’t afford it, you could stay in the cargo hold for 30 cui stones. But the conditions there… depended on how tolerant you were.
By the time Zhao Chun and Meng Han arrived, the lower cabins had already sold out. They each took a mid cabin without hesitation. They had the money, and Meng Han was now at the Foundation Establishment Stage—he couldn’t very well sleep in a cargo hold and keep his face.
Between that 200 and what Zhao Chun had spent in the Threefold Stone Forest, she’d burned nearly 8,000 in less than three months. Utterly extravagant.
She still had 33 spirit jades and a little over 1,400 cui stones. For most Qi Refining Stage cultivators, it was a fortune. For Zhao Chun, it barely felt like enough.
Greed, anger, and ignorance were said to be the three stains of mankind, and greed sat at the head of them. The more Zhao Chun learned how useful money was, the more she felt squeezed.
The voyage would take six days. They’d disembark at Fang Jing Mountain, then travel two more days by Mist Skiff. The road was long. Aside from cultivating, Zhao Chun spent her time on the deck watching the Cloud Sea shift and billow, finding it strangely fascinating.
In her past life, she’d never chased extremes. She’d lived by one rule: stay alive. The Cloud Sea had been something she’d only ever seen through an airplane window.
Now she understood the old line about the vastness of the Cloud Sea, and how impossible it once seemed to reach the fabled Dao Mountains and crimson palaces beyond. And she couldn’t help laughing, because those places no longer felt distant—they felt within reach.
Zhao Chun half closed her eyes, lost in the thought, when a burst of commotion rose behind her.
“You sect disciples have quite the arrogance,” a man said, his voice slightly hoarse but firm. “Accusing people of theft with nothing but empty words. Where’s your proof?”
Another man answered, younger and sharper. “Earlier on this deck there were only our two groups. If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?”
That kind of logic made Zhao Chun frown.
Sure enough, the other side pounced on it. “Two groups? Not you and me alone. You’ve got three or five people over there. Why don’t you suspect your own?”
The younger voice flared, and the argument escalated. Voices rose. Curious onlookers drifted closer until the deck tightened with bodies.
The rogue cultivator spoke smoothly, turning the argument into an attack on the other side’s sect. In the middle of their shouting, the disciples ended up blurting out their identity themselves.
They claimed to be disciples of the Fen Yu Sect. Zhao Chun had never heard of it. But their lead disciple was at the fifth level of the Qi Refining Stage, still young—talent, if the sect was small.
Zhao Chun sat tucked near a crate, half hidden, content to watch. But when she turned her head, she exposed half her face.
The rogue cultivators caught it immediately. One of them tilted his head, tone strange and mocking. “Didn’t you just say there were only two groups on this deck? Looks like there’s also a little miss over here. So why blame only us? Why not blame her? Or is it because you look down on rogue cultivators like us?”
Zhao Chun sighed. Sitting quietly on a ship, and trouble still dropped out of the sky.
As every gaze swung toward her, she stood and forced her mouth into something like a smile. “What, exactly, is the issue?”