Starting Cultivation During a Trip

The mountains lay shrouded in mist, with the bright moon rising high.

In the dusky twilight, Wang Qianyu’s gaze was like nails driven into Zhang Fan, fixed on him from head to toe, unable to look away.

”Senior… senior…” Under such a stare, Zhang Fan felt his hair stand on end and couldn’t help calling out twice.

”The more I look, the more familiar you seem.”

Wang Qian’an wore an odd expression; in Zhang Fan, he caught a glimpse of something familiar, hidden beneath the dust of years, right on the tip of his tongue—almost ready to reveal itself but just out of his grasp.

”Young man, who else is in your family? Generations of cultivation practitioners?” Wang Qian’an suddenly asked.

Generally speaking, for someone so young to excel, it was almost always due to family tradition—a deep, ancestral foundation.

”It’s just me and my dad. He does odd jobs on construction sites,” Zhang Fan replied truthfully.

”A mortal-born!?”

Wang Qian’an gave Zhang Fan a long look, then slowly retracted his gaze, asking nothing further.

Moments later, the group ventured deeper into the mountains, where, amidst the shadow of trees, a manor appeared before them—by the look of it, as large as three or five football fields combined.

”Damn, building a manor of this scale up in the mountains…”

Zhang Fan raised his brow. His realm might be high, but having grown up poor, he’d never seen anything on this level.

”Isn’t this kind of illegal construction?”

Zhang Fan leaned over to Meng Qiwu and whispered quietly.

”Don’t talk nonsense,” Meng Qiwu shot him a fierce glare.

As a disciple of Zhongnan Mountain, she’d never heard that the Wang family had such property on Luoying Mountain either.

A manor of this size, built in the mountains—money alone couldn’t make it happen.

”Just because you haven’t seen it before doesn’t mean it’s not normal. This is the Wang Family—weigh your words,” Meng Qiwu warned him.

”Who says I haven’t seen it?” Zhang Fan shot her a look.

As a kid, he’d stayed at the Sanqi Orphanage, which was also up in the mountains, and about on par with the manor before his eyes.

Back then, he and his friends—Zhou Yi, Ge Shuangxiu, Rosen, Ji Suan, Chen Ji—all spent over a year together in that orphanage.

To Zhang Fan, that was an unforgettable chapter of his life.

That’s why running into Ge Shuangxiu again not long ago left him so happy—and marveling at fate’s mysteries.

The seeds planted yesterday will bear their fruits another day.

Ever since he reunited with Ge Shuangxiu, Zhang Fan had an intuition that he wasn’t done crossing paths with that orphanage.

”Qingshan, get their accommodations arranged.”

”Chairman Wu, let’s head to the front hall and chat.”

Upon entering the manor, Wang Qian’an gave the orders, then led Wu Qingnang away.

”What a place…”

Zhang Fan glanced around and was surprised to see a separate Daoist temple dedicated to Ancestor Master Chongyang. Besides that, there was a garden, an Alchemy Room, Dark Rooms, a Medical Clinic—everything you’d expect, and more.

”Hey… what’s his name again… Wang Qingshan…” Zhang Fan suddenly called out.

Wang Qingshan stopped in his tracks, looked back, and fixed Zhang Fan with a resentful gaze.

If not for Zhang Fan, his brother Wang Qinghe’s cultivation wouldn’t have been crippled, Qin Ergou would’ve already been in their hands, and as for Wang Qingyi, perhaps she wouldn’t have met with that accident and lost all her cultivation.

To have such a grudge between them, yet Zhang Fan had to think so long about his name—clearly, Zhang Fan didn’t take him seriously at all.

”What do you want?” Wang Qingshan swallowed his anger and dissatisfaction and asked coldly.

”Do you guys have WiFi here?” Zhang Fan asked.

”What?” Wang Qingshan froze, as if he hadn’t heard right.

”WiFi. Even Zhenwu Mountain has it—don’t you?” Zhang Fan pressed.

Senior Po Jie said you could just pay up and get WiFi on the mountain, and the signal was decent too.

Wang Qingshan’s eyes widened and then grew distant, looking at Zhang Fan as if he was from another world. The veins near his temples seemed to twitch; after holding back for a long while, he spat out,

”Yes!”

”They actually have it!”

Even before he answered, Zhang Fan had already pulled out his phone, and the first network that popped up was ”Wang Family Mansion.”

”Hey, Fellow Daoist Qingshan, what’s the WiFi password?”

”Eight nines!” Wang Qingshan ground out, through gritted teeth, picking up his pace without a backwards glance.

”Holy shit!”

Suddenly, Zhang Fan exclaimed, ”No wonder you’re the Pure Yang Family!”

”What is it?” Meng Qiwu hurried over, looking concerned.

”Full signal!” Zhang Fan proudly showed off his phone.

”...”

Walking ahead, Wang Qingshan staggered and nearly tripped.

Yan Fei and Han Wenlong exchanged glances, looking oddly at Zhang Fan; they couldn’t understand how they had ended up being beaten by someone like this.

”Will you die if you don’t go online for a minute?”

Meng Qiwu tugged Zhang Fan’s sleeve and muttered in a low voice.

”I’m out of data for the month—ten bucks per giga!” Zhang Fan grumbled.

”...”

”Hurry up!”

With their heads lowered, Yan Fei and Han Wenlong brushed past Zhang Fan and Meng Qiwu, following Wang Qingshan quickly.

”Don’t you get the sense Wang Qian’an’s invitation is kind of fishy?” Meng Qiwu suddenly said.

”He doesn’t want us to leave,” Zhang Fan responded gravely.

”Which means…”

”It means there’s a secret hidden in these mountains. He suspects we’re up to something, and if he lets us go, things could get messy.” Zhang Fan guessed.

”I bet the Living Dead Tomb is here in the mountains.”

At that, Zhang Fan’s eyes darkened, and he began to plan how to sneak out for a good look later, once everyone was asleep.

”Look!”

Right then, Meng Qiwu suddenly tugged Zhang Fan’s arm.

Following Meng Qiwu’s gaze, Zhang Fan saw a wheelchair parked on a distant corridor. Sitting in it was none other than Wang Qingyi.