Starting Cultivation During a Trip

”We just let it go, Brother Fan? Spirit Monsters like that aren’t common.” Liu Xingyu said with some disappointment.

”Cultivation is hard for such beings. There’s no need to create needless killing karma.” Zhang Fan stepped forward and continued onward.

”But...”

”If you sow the seeds of orchid, you’ll reap fine cotton...”

Before Liu Xingyu could finish, Zhang Fan cut him off.

”If you become its tribulation, who’s to say you won’t draw down tribulations upon yourself?”

Zhang Fan didn’t even glance back as he stepped into the boundless white mist.

Liu Xingyu was taken aback, savoring Zhang Fan’s words, watching his distant figure with deep thought in his eyes.

He simply felt that Zhang Fan had become even more unfathomable these days, his realm seemed to be rising at every moment, and this cultivation had nothing to do with magical power or Divine Techniques.

”Stop thinking about it. Cultivation isn’t just about chasing power—understanding the Heavenly Dao and comprehending the principles of the Techniques, that’s the true path.”

Liu Xingtui glanced at his foolish little brother, patted his shoulder, and strode to catch up with Zhang Fan.

”Brother, wait for me!”

Liu Xingyu shook his head and hurried to follow after them.

The fog grew thicker.

Visibility on the mountain path dropped lower and lower, and the temperature around them plunged. If ordinary folks walked this way, they’d probably be doomed.

Clang... Clang... Clang...

Just then, the crisp toll of bells rang out from far away.

”What’s that?” Liu Xingyu’s ears twitched; he couldn’t help but ask.

”Don’t speak.”

Zhang Fan was in the lead. With a lift of his hand, Primordial Spirit Observation: and within the vast white mist, he saw a group approaching—clad in Daoist Robes, like a company of Daoists, some holding White Banners, some raising Apricot Yellow Banners, others shaking bells... all traveling through the mountains.

Each had dull, blank eyes, not a trace of living energy on their faces, feet floating off the ground, drifting airily.

”Are those Wandering Souls and Fierce Ghosts?”

Liu Xingyu’s gaze darkened—he felt his own body grow light as if about to leave the ground at any moment. He looked down again: his own Primordial Spirit was already starting to leave his corporeal shell.

”Those aren’t Wandering Souls and Fierce Ghosts...”

”Those are Yin Spirits of the mountain!”

Liu Xingtui gave a low shout, a wisp of True Flame rising from his fingertip like a blazing lamp, shining on Liu Xingyu. Then a powerful shout, and the latter’s Primordial Spirit returned to his body acupoints.

In the mountains, Yin Spirits—they’re primordial souls cast out, never achieving Pure Yang, with Yin dregs blazing strong. Though possessing cultivation, they have no shape or shadow, thus they are Yin Spirits.

It’s said some cultivators lose their corporeal bodies, their Primordial Spirits emerge and wander. Even if they retain powers, they are forever severed from the Pure Yang path, formless and shadowless, forever roaming the mountains.

They’re nothing like common Wandering Souls and Fierce Ghosts; they specialize in seizing Primordial Spirits. Even someone with Liu Xingyu’s level of cultivation, a slight carelessness, would be snatched—either used as food or turned into one of their kind.

Only then did Liu Xingtui offer up the One-inch Ding Fire, turning it into a Bright Lamp to keep the Yin Spirits away.

The Daoist Sect says: The lamp drives away darkness and illumines the depths—opens the night under the springs, shines through the endless hell-night, so that suffering souls and lost spirits may gain release by this light.

Therefore, Bright Lamps are extremely important implements in the Daoist Sect.

”Brother, good thing you learned this True Fire Lamp method at Zhenwu Mountain back then, otherwise we’d be in real trouble.” Liu Xingyu couldn’t help but say.

Their pair of brothers, though dispatched outside Zhenwu Mountain, still had to return to the mountain every year for further study.

The Bright Lamp Technique isn’t one just anyone can cultivate; first you must refine the Daoist True Flame. Liu Xingyu’s Crimson Palace Li Fire counts only as a false True Flame, so he can’t do it.

Only Liu Xingtui’s One-inch Ding Fire was enough to qualify.

He only studied this Bright Lamp Technique due to his job at the Match-3 Puzzle Funeral Home—a perfect fit for his profession’s needs.

It cost him quite a bit, too—half the payment came from a loan from Zhenwu Mountain itself.

”Wait, you’re disciples of Zhenwu Mountain and you still have to pay for Techniques?” Zhang Fan gave them a strange look.

”Techniques aren’t to be handed down carelessly. If you just taught everything to everyone, wouldn’t it cheapen it? It would disgrace the Ancestral Master.” Liu Xingtui answered as a matter of course.

”...”

Back when Sun Wukong and his group endured their eighty-one tribulations to reach Ling Mountain, even after so many hardships, in the end, they still had to pay a price to receive the True Scripture.

”How much did it cost to learn?” Zhang Fan couldn’t help but ask.

On Liu Xingchui’s fingertip, the flame was like a bright lamp, cutting through the dark night. In the distance, that strange procession of Yin Spirits gradually faded, the sound of their bells growing fainter and fainter.

”Brother Fan, do you want to learn it? I’ll teach you for free.” Liu Xingtui offered generously.

”Really? Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

”Teaching Techniques to an Outer Sect member is a grave crime.” said Liu Xingtui.

But since Zhang Fan was also a disciple of Zhenwu Mountain, passing the Technique on wasn’t a big sin. When fate arrives, it arrives—the path can be passed on.

”If the mountain asks someday, I’ll just pay the back fees. You can always get a loan.” Liu Xingtui laughed softly, ”There’s Daoist Skill loans.”

”Daoist Skill Loans!”

”...”

”But exactly how much did you pay?” Zhang Fan pressed, curious.

”A hundred and eighty thousand!”

”That expensive?!” Zhang Fan’s eyes went wide.

”That’s already pretty cheap.” Liu Xingyu chimed in.

Liu Xingtui, as a Zhenwu Mountain disciple who’d already refined the Daoist True Flame and got top marks each year on his field assignment—so many qualifications, that’s the only reason for the internal discounted price.

If it were an ordinary Zhenwu Mountain disciple—even spending a million, you probably still wouldn’t be allowed to learn.

”So every Daoist Skill from Zhenwu Mountain has a price?” Zhang Fan couldn’t help but ask.

”Of course,” Liu Xingtui nodded. ”But everyone’s conditions differ, so the price differs.”

”Heard Senior Sister Weisheng got a friendship deal on the Five Thunders Righteous Method when she got promoted to High Skill.” Liu Xingyu brought up a piece of gossip.

”How much did she pay?” Zhang Fan asked, curious.

”Five hundred and eighty thousand.”

”What? That’s a friendship price? High Skill level Technique, shouldn’t the mountain give some show of support?” Zhang Fan was dumbfounded.

”That’s very cheap already. The Five Thunders Righteous Method is a Great Skill. Most people don’t even qualify. You could bring mountains of gold and not get to learn it,” Liu Xingtui gave Zhang Fan a meaningful look.

Clearly Zhang Fan was a Zhenwu Mountain disciple, but he seemed to know nothing about how things worked there.

”Generally speaking, the Inner Core Techniques are even pricier, since those are the Fundamental Life-Nurturing Methods,” Liu Xingyu said quietly.

You can still practice Magic, but Inner Core is absolutely crucial.

”So what’s the pricing system like?” Zhang Fan asked, intrigued.

”Inner Core Techniques are the basics. Usually, several are free...” Liu Xingtui replied blandly.

Basic necessities can’t all be paywalled; depending on aptitude and difficulty, each type had some Technique that was free. Even the deepest ones—if your talent is high enough, they’ll grant it free.

But if you really want to buy one, the prices can get ridiculous…

”For example, North and South Sect Origin is a top-tier Inner Core Technique. If you’re not given it, but want to buy it, the price is rumored to be your own weight in gold,” Liu Xingtui whispered.

”That valuable?!” Zhang Fan’s eyes went wide.

Whoosh—

Just then, a mountain breeze swept by, the heavy mists around them gradually dispersing.

Zhang Fan sensed something, glanced up, and a quaint, ancient Daoist Temple appeared before them, the faded plaque inscribed with three ancient Dragon-and-Snake style characters: Imprisoned Immortal Temple.

Clang... Clang... Clang...

At the same time, within Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery, that mysterious sound of chains clashing suddenly rang, accompanied by a sleep-like muttering.

”Finally, you’ve returned!!”