Chapter Sixty-One: Little Qingming
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As the nine ancient artifacts were washed by the power of time, countless figures of people who had once touched them flashed past at high speed within a short moment, and then fell back into silence.
The old turtle poked its head out at the sound and asked, "What is so unusual about this harpoon? It looks utterly plain and unremarkable."
Chen Xuan replied in a muffled voice, "Every single person who used this harpoon across generations was a fisherman. Not a single cultivator among them."
He had observed very carefully the figures flowing amidst the passage of time on the surface of the harpoon; they were all old fishermen wearing bamboo rain hats.
Heavy snow drifted, the north wind wailed, sitting alone at the bow of a boat, holding the harpoon with a firm gaze—all of them possessed an untamed and unrestrained temperament...
The old turtle was stunned upon hearing this and said, "A harpoon is naturally meant for fishermen. Would a cultivator ever use it as a weapon for arcane combat? Surely they wouldn't be reduced to such poverty, would they?"
"..."
Chen Xuan remained silent at these words. In truth, he found using the harpoon quite natural and convenient.
"Clang!"
He lightly flicked the sharp blade of the harpoon, producing a crisp, clear sound. It was a bizarre metallic sound he had never heard before, its strength and toughness far exceeding ordinary iron.
This was a rare and formidable divine weapon, almost entirely capable of resisting mortal flames.
The old turtle remarked, "A small portion of the material composing this harpoon has given birth to sentience, transforming into a strange metal. It can be used as a material for forging foundation-vessel treasures."
He pointed toward the other eight ancient artifacts, all of which had undergone varying degrees of mutation, and said, "When you have time, find a Fire Officer of the Daoist-Storehouse Realm to melt them down. Swap out the categories of materials, and it will be enough for you to forge a true treasure."
The term "Fire Officer" referred to Red-Qi cultivators. Such people were adept at forging artifacts, commonly known as blacksmiths.
Wang Zhenyang of Crimson Crow City was a famously skilled artisan; when his six arms swung the heavy hammers, flowing fire poured down like waterfalls—a truly spectacular sight. There were also certain spirits and monsters in the southern wilderness and marshes who excelled at this craft.
These ordinary ancient artifacts had very plain backgrounds and had never been used by high-level cultivators. Although they would undergo metamorphosis, the degree was limited, and they could not be directly used as combat treasures.
"I know an old fox. When the opportunity arises, I'll introduce you..."
The old turtle enthusiastically recommended a spirit-monster friend from the southern wilderness mountains to Chen Xuan, urging him to forge artifacts... He simply did not like the sight of Chen Xuan holding a harpoon, as it reminded him of his poor litter of over-mountain treasure fish... Not even a few matured each year, yet a couple of them had been consecutively caught by him just days ago.
"Much obliged."
Chen Xuan nodded, put away the nine ancient artifacts, and then focused his full attention on the jade bracelet in his hand.
According to Liu Jiao, this jade bracelet had once been used by someone close to immortality in ancient times. In this realm, the residual traces of their Great Dao would inevitably remain.
As long as even a shred of residual power was resonated forth, this jade bracelet would likely transform on the spot into a true treasure!
"Hum hum!"
The jade bracelet continuously emitted a pure white radiance and slowly levitated into the air.
At the edge of the infinitely distant horizon, fluctuations of vital energy arose, beginning to respond.
...
...
In the borderlands between the southern wilderness and the territory of Crimson Crow City, practitioners of Qi and spirits-monsters successively departed from the Peach Blossom Spring. This grand feast was drawing to its close.
At this moment, radiances of time-power lit up from every corner of the earth.
"Hum!"
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Not only that, but on the distant horizon, dazzling divine lights—each flickering with the phantom image of an ancient cultivator—rose from the earth in all directions, dragging colorful trailing flames as they sped toward this place.
The vast majority of these unusual phenomena were triggered by the ancient relics gifted to the young geniuses by Liu Jiao.
"The longevity race truly gives away good things. A treasure is about to be formed."
Someone murmured, recognizing the figures within those divine lights. Among them were several illustrious major figures in the history of the ancient state of Chu... and some others came from regions beyond Chu.
Among these divine lights, three or four appeared particularly grand in momentum. Rosy clouds paved the way, traversing the firmament, as the phantoms of those who had attained proximity to immortality strolled forward.
"A rare and peerless treasure is about to be born." Strange brilliance flashed in the eyes of some individuals, evil intent taking root in their hearts as they converged toward the landing points of those divine lights.
"Is Niu Zi-ge's bone structure and aptitude truly this poor?"
Beneath the sky, Ye Kui had a sword and saber belted at his waist and a piece of dogtail grass clenched in his teeth. He was holding up a crystal-clear teacup for close inspection as he walked aimlessly across the wilderness.
Ye Kui had left the Peach Blossom Spring very early. Not long ago, the trace-phantom of a major figure who had seen through the mortal world had stepped forth from the horizon and crashed directly into the teacup, causing it to undergo a complete metamorphosis and become a semi-finished treasure.
A teacup?
Was it for drinking tea?
Liu Jiao looked down on him somewhat...
"Yan Yushu, the white-clothed youth carrying a sword, and that... Chen Xuan... are geniuses with extremely high bone structure."
Ye Kui muttered to himself, halting his footsteps and looking up into the distant sky. The three or four most dazzling phantoms were traversing the heart of heaven; those were undoubtedly the traces left behind in the world by immortals-in-proximity, and they were currently being summoned by the relics in the hands of those three or four people.
"Rustle!"
In the distance, a group of people was walking toward him. The leader, wearing Daoist robes, raised his head, casting a startled gaze at Ye Kui.
"What are you looking at?"
Ye Kui turned his head, squinting sideways at the middle-aged Daoist-robed man.
"Hehe..."
The middle-aged Daoist-robed man chuckled softly.
The tip of Ye Kui's brow twitched, and he said in a muffled voice, "What are you 'hehe'-ing for? I asked you a question—what are you looking at? Old geezer, are you intentionally looking for trouble?"
"Hehe..."
"Hehe your mother? Are you an idiot? Niu Zi-ge finds you extremely displeasing..."
"Hehe, Ye Kui."
The middle-aged man continued to smile, directly calling out his name.
Ye Kui's pupils suddenly contracted, and his flippant expression gradually restrained itself.
The middle-aged man smiled, his face locked in a stiff grin, and said, "Ah, Ye Kui, the Daoist masters have taken a fancy to you... Throughout these four seas and eight wastes, this universe and all under heaven, there is no place for you to find refuge. Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, you cannot escape..."
"Bang!"
The ancient teacup smashed out abruptly, transforming to the size of a house as it pressed forward. Following closely behind was the piercing sound of swords and sabers leaving their scabbards, as a sky-full of fierce and dazzling blade-lights and sword-shadows surged like violent waves and towering seas, slashing toward the middle-aged man with the bizarre smile.
"[Little Azure Heaven]!!!"
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Ye Kui's eyes were blood-red as he launched his most ferocious attack in an instant, as though a bloody aura was welling up from the deepest, heaviest darkness.
Before him.
On the middle-aged man's body, the majestic aura belonging to the Daoist-Storehouse Realm surged upward.
...
...
Southern Wilderness.
Chen Xuan stood by the lake, his figure upright, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze clear as he leisurely gazed at a divine light approaching from the distant horizon.
The old turtle stood to the side, also with its hands clasped behind its back. Its height barely reached Chen Xuan's waist, making it resemble an old man in the setting sun.
An elder and a youth, amidst the mountain fields under the setting sun—the atmosphere was harmonious.
"It's almost here..."
"Mhm."
Chen Xuan nodded, then turned his head and extended a sincere invitation: "Senior Turtle, I know your martial arts are exceptionally high. That set of fist techniques you used against Qing Yaizi and Lu Zhuan—was that Tai Chi? It possesses quite a bit of ancient martial charm. When you have time, shall we spar?"
This turtle's martial skills were extraordinary; among all he had witnessed in this life, it firmly ranked in the top three.
The other two were himself, and the dogtail grass youth Ye Kui, with whom he had no chance to cross moves.
The old turtle cast a sideways glance at him and let out a disdainful, cold chuckle. "Tai Chi? You mean my little turtle-fists? What is it, little fellow, are you trying to poach my techniques?"
Wise with age and sharp as a spirit, it saw right through Chen Xuan's little scheme. This fellow possessed a martial heart and extremely high comprehension; he feared that after a spar or two, the opponent would directly start throwing out the exact same moves of the little turtle-fists...
Chen Xuan blinked. "In the affairs of martial artists, how can one call it poaching? Taking the strengths of a hundred schools to make up for one's own shortcomings is the proper path. Senior Turtle, I also happen to know a few sets of fist techniques. Would you like to learn..."
"..."
amid their banter and laughter, a brilliant purple rosy-cloud paved a path across the sky toward them.
The figure of a woman clad in purple immortal garments and bearing a gentle expression stood atop it. Her demeanor was dignified; she cradled a pristine seven-stringed jiao-tail zither, and the gauze ribbons wrapped around her arms fluttered in the wind, as if she were about to ride the wind and return.
The zither strings were plucked, and immortal music drifted softly like moonlight filtering into one's heart—melodious and resonant, making one's mind tranquil. Birds sang in harmony among the forest trees, and the lingering echoes refused to fade.
"Zichen Mountain, True Person Zifei."
Chen Xuan recalled the record in the Peach Blossom Spring regarding this jade bracelet.
"This was a peerless fairy who once overwhelmed an entire era across the lands of several states. Many ancient texts of the State of Chu carry legends of her, and the Zichen Mountain Dao-field she established is still active in some nearby ancient state to this day."
"Later comers, do not follow my path..."
A warning, crisp as the sound of water gushing from a subterranean spring, drifted out from the zither music played by the phantom of the purple-robed fairy.
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