Starting Cultivation During a Trip

”Heaven’s wrath shakes the sky, thunder and rain sweeping the heavens—surely, this is the moment when you demons reveal your true forms.”

At that moment, a chilly, mocking laughter drifted from the distance.

Yu Fu steadied himself against the car, raising his head to look. The raging wind whipped up dust, and at the end of the road, two Daoists approached slowly—one with snow-white skin, the other tall and gaunt.

”Daoist whelps from Qingcheng Mountain…”

Upon seeing the newcomers, a cold glint flashed in Yu Fu’s deep-set eyes.

”I am Xu Qinglai, and this is my junior brother, Lanting Bamboo.” The Daoist with pale skin held an oil paper umbrella, displaying refined courtesy, a faint, elusive smile playing upon his lips.

”Senior brother, why waste words with this Old Fish Demon?”

Lanting Bamboo snorted coldly, his gaze sharp as a blade, locking onto Yu Fu: ”Wretched beast, years ago you were fortunate enough to escape Chuanshu and eke out a miserable existence here in Jiangnan to this day…”

”Now, that renegade of Zhenwu Mountain is gone—which means, who else can shield you?”

As he spoke, a purple-bronze bell hanging from Lanting Bamboo’s waist began to quiver softly, releasing a crisp, ethereal chime.

That sound, even amid the deafening thunder, pierced through with uncanny clarity.

”Demon-Suppressing Bell!”

Yu Fu’s expression changed abruptly; in his ears, the bell’s peal grew more urgent, its tempo quickening ever further.

His breathing grew heavier, his entire body trembling; fine scales on the backs of his hands began to shimmer and, inexorably, crept along his limbs.

”Roar…”

Right then, Yu Fu let out a low snarl—like a beast from the Mountains and Seas—no shred of humanity in that sound.

”Tsk, tsk, after all, you’re a creature of the water. This thundering rain is the end of your road…” Xu Qinglai said with a faint smile.

”Come back with me to Qingcheng Mountain, and you may yet keep a sliver of your life.”

”Return to Qingcheng Mountain? Only to be raised like swine in a pen?”

Yu Fu’s palm sprouted long, gleaming talons, cold and deadly, plunging deep into the hood of the Five Spirits Rainbow Light car.

”Still wish to resist?” Xu Qinglai sneered coldly.

”Brat, back when Master Yu churned up rivers and turned seas, you were sucking at your mother’s breast.”

Rumble…

As the words fell, Yu Fu let out a piercing howl. A fine layer of crimson scales spread across his face. Gales raged, gathering the water in the air, surging around him in a mist, billowing in tides.

The thunder overhead grew ever more terrifying; black clouds pressed low, the storm on the verge of breaking.

A dreadful aura erupted into the heavens.

”What is that…”

Lanting Bamboo’s countenance shifted minutely; within the mist swirling around Yu Fu, he caught a glimpse of a shadow—a colossal form coiled, crowned with jagged horns, as if a Flood Dragon thrashing the rivers, as if a Great Demon tipping the seas.

”The flood dragon transforms, mountains and winds collapse!!”

Xu Qinglai’s gaze narrowed into a line, a grave expression coming over his pale visage.

”Abomination! You dare employ demon technique within Yujing City? Heaven and earth shall deny you sanctuary. Should I not kill you, the heavens will purge you themselves.”

As he spoke, Xu Qinglai flicked his oil paper umbrella; a keening sword-hum reverberated between heaven and earth.

On seeing this, Lanting Bamboo’s lips curled into a chilly smile; he quietly stepped back to the side.

He knew the abomination before him was driven to desperation, yet to reveal his true form and wield demon technique in the human city was to violate a dire taboo—he would invite Daoist Sect’s annihilation, and even the Celestial King could not save him then.

Besides, this abomination might not survive even a single stroke from his senior brother’s Umbrella Sword.

This was a certain death where advance and retreat were equally fatal.

Rumble…

The mist around Yu Fu thickened to near-blackness, raging in waves, shrouding his entire form from sight.

”You have chosen the path of death.” Xu Qinglai sneered, grasped his oil paper umbrella, and stepped forward.

”Old Yu, on a day like this, you really shouldn’t have come outside.”

At that moment, a lazy voice echoed from the distance.

Lightning split the sky—under that dazzling thunderflash, a figure pedaled leisurely on a shared bike, gliding closer. Who else could it be but Zhang Fan?