Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 439: Chapter 223: Daoist Sect United! Li Yishan’s Secret (Part 2)

”He’s a disciple of Zhenwu Mountain, while you’re one of President Jiang’s men...”

”President Jiang has been at odds with Transcendent Zhenren for a lifetime...”

”Hmm!?”

Meng Qinghuan’s elegant brows arched, a sharp gaze flashed over, instantly cutting Xu Qinglai’s words short.

”Don’t say things that undermine unity.”

”What President Jiang carries in his heart is the future of the Daoist Sect, what he intends to create is an unprecedented great union of Dao, never has there been any private grudge, no personal vendettas.” Meng Qinghuan corrected him.

”Outside...”

”Let outsiders talk; just listen and ignore.” Meng Qinghuan said coolly. ”However...”

At that moment, her tone abruptly shifted: ”We’re all friends here, helping you out is not out of the question.”

”What’s the condition?” Xu Qinglai knew full well there’s never a free lunch in this world.

”I know, once you achieve High Skill, you get a chance to enter the Immortal Cave...”

”You want my chance to enter the Immortal Cave?” Xu Qinglai’s face suddenly changed.

The Immortal Cave—that’s where the Ancestral Celestial Master Zhang Daoling ascended; in Qingcheng Mountain it’s sacred ground, ordinary folk rarely even get close. Only High Skill disciples are qualified to enter, and they only get one shot.

”You can always refuse.” Meng Qinghuan’s tone remained utterly calm.

Xu Qinglai’s expression shifted again and again, then, gritting his teeth: ”Fine, I accept. If you help me deal with Zhang Fan and get back the Black Sword Umbrella, I’ll give my chance to enter the Immortal Cave, to you.”

”Deal!” Meng Qinghuan’s lips curled at the corners, revealing a satisfied smile.

A moment later, Xu Qinglai and Lanting Bamboo walked out of the Yujing Grand Hotel.

”Senior brother, are you really going to give her your chance to enter the Immortal Cave?”

Outside the hotel, Lanting Bamboo finally couldn’t hold back.

The Immortal Cave is basically the greatest opportunity Qingcheng Mountain disciples get after achieving High Skill, unimaginably precious.

”The Black Sword Umbrella is an artifact handed down by our predecessors. If it’s lost, even if I reach High Skill, they might strip me of my chance to enter the Immortal Cave...” Xu Qinglai’s mind was exceptionally clear.

”As long as Zhang Fan is suppressed and the Black Sword Umbrella recovered, plus I tame that Old Fish Demon and reclaim the Flood Dragon’s Inner Core from years ago, the loss will be made up for.”

Xu Qinglai calculated all this in his mind—it’s not a bad deal.

Meng Qinghuan is at the Mahayana Realm; up against Zhang Fan, it’ll be a piece of cake for her.

”Junior brother, if you reach High Skill before me, you’ll have to substitute your chance to enter the Immortal Cave.” Xu Qinglai suddenly switched tactics.

”Huh? Use my chance? No way, senior brother...” Lanting Bamboo got anxious.

”You and I are like brothers, what’s the point of splitting things between us now?” Xu Qinglai slapped him on the back. ”It’s decided.”

With those words, he strode off quickly into the vast evening darkness.

...

Night had fallen.

But Yujing City University City was bustling as ever.

Li Yishan parked the car by the curb and headed toward his usual go-to food stall.

”Is Yun Ma feeling any better?”

Zhang Fan got out of the car, asking with concern.

A few days ago, Li Yishan’s stepmother was reportedly hit by a car and had been recuperating. Li Yishan had been busy tending to her, and just recently found time to call Zhang Fan out for some heavy eating and drinking.

”Much better.” Li Yishan replied offhandedly.

”By the way, there’s a bottle of liquor in my car. Go grab it, I’ll pick us a nice fatty dish.”

Li Yishan handed Zhang Fan the keys; the most famous thing at their favorite food stall was its fragrant meat hotpot.

Zhang Fan took the keys, walked over to the car, opened the door, and saw a beautifully packaged bottle of liquor on the back seat.

He picked up the bottle, about to shut the door, when something caught his eye—a small object wedged in the seat’s crevice. He bent down and pulled it free; it turned out to be a little medicine bottle.

”Haloperidol tablets!?”

Zhang Fan stared at the unfamiliar drug name, pausing in mild surprise, then reflexively glanced at Li Yishan, who was ordering food nearby, and pulled out his phone to look up the medication.

”A butyrophenone antipsychotic!?” Zhang Fan looked at the search results, brow raised, his face showing a strange expression.

”What took you so long?”

Once he got back, Li Yishan was rinsing bowls in hot water and glanced up at Zhang Fan’s look.

”What’s wrong? Why the face?”

”How long has it been?” Zhang Fan sat down, suddenly not in the mood to eat or drink.

”How long what?” Li Yishan asked, puzzled.

Zhang Fan didn’t reply, just placed the small medicine bottle squarely on the table.

”Don’t tell me this isn’t yours.”

Li Yishan eyed the bottle, his brow twitching. He paused, then nodded.

”It really is mine.”

”What’s going on? How did you end up with this illness?” Zhang Fan pressed.

By rights, with Li Yishan’s family background, life’s all good, carefree—so how’d he end up schizophrenic?

Or was it childhood trauma?

After all, the mess they dealt with at home was the stuff of soap operas. The scars of a broken family truly take a lifetime to heal.

”At first it was just lots of dreams...” Li Yishan said in a low voice.

”Later, the dreams kept coming, some were continuous, and during the day my mind got a little off...”

”Those dreams were so real, sometimes I couldn’t tell if I was awake or dreaming, I couldn’t even tell who I was...”

”Eventually, I started sleepwalking. Multiple times I woke up in different places, no memory of how I got there...”

He paused a bit, glancing over at Zhang Fan.

”Once I woke up and found myself at the cemetery on the edge of town.”

As he spoke, Li Yishan unconsciously rubbed his fingers—it was a habitual gesture.

”Little by little, I started forgetting lots of things; a few times, I even forgot who I was. Those dreams and reality blending together... it’s just...”

Li Yishan shook his head and picked up the small medicine bottle.

”It’s gotten that bad? How long’s this been?” Zhang Fan asked again.

”Don’t remember. Must’ve been a while.” Li Yishan shook his head.

”Of course, most of the time I’m lucid; it’s not like that all the time.”

Li Yishan’s eyes grew deep. ”I’ve even started seeing patterns in it.”

”Want me to take a look for you?” Zhang Fan suddenly offered.

He knew a lot of mental illnesses—maybe it was the Primordial Spirit that had issues.

”You’re gonna perform an exorcism for me? I almost forgot you’re a Daoist now.”

Li Yishan chuckled, seeming to only just remember that back at Zhenwu Mountain, Zhang Fan had joined the Daoist Sect—officially even, certificate and all, for just a hundred and fifty yuan.

”It’s a real illness. I’ve seen psychologists, even psychiatrists...”

Li Yishan shook the bottle indifferently, as if he genuinely wasn’t bothered.

”Doesn’t really help much, but most of the time I’m perfectly normal. The stuff I forget doesn’t seem important anyway...”

”But... those dreams, they’re too real. Even now, thinking back on them feels like it happened for real...”

At this, Li Yishan’s eyes grew misty, unfocused for a moment.

”Zhang Fan, ever died before?”

”...”

”What kind of question is that—have you?” Zhang Fan shot him a look.

”Yeah... in my dreams...”

”...”

”Feels so damn real. Not only have I died—I’ve killed people, blood everywhere, just like fighting monsters out in the wild...” Li Yishan whispered, as if savoring how vivid it all felt in his dreams.

”You sure you’re not getting high?” Zhang Fan raised an eyebrow, unable to stop himself.

”Get high, my ass. I never do illegal shit.” Li Yishan shot him a sidelong glance.

”But you’ve killed people.”

”In my dreams!” Li Yishan rubbed his fingers.

”Dreams all like that? Nothing special, you know, the kind of dreams men like...”

”Never had those.” Li Yishan shook his head.

”But lately, I keep having the same dream.” Li Yishan lowered his voice.

”What is it?” Zhang Fan couldn’t help asking.

”I dreamt of my dad.”

Li Yishan stared straight at Zhang Fan, voice low and steady: ”In my dream, he wasn’t dead. He’s been talking to me!!!”