Chapter 87: Entering the Secret Realm

Mist swirled around the peaks, creating a scene like a fallen immortal realm. The mountains were hidden behind layers of clouds, appearing like spreading ink washes, intertwining and merging with the pervasive fog.

The moment Zora entered the secret realm, she witnessed this sight. She stood on the edge of a cliff, the surroundings empty and desolate.

Mhm... there should be great danger here.

Zora made an effort to remain vigilant, scanning her surroundings. A cool breeze swept past; there was no one in sight. She turned around and took a few steps toward the forest, then stopped cautiously.

Can I just wander around? Is this the Wave Husk Secret Realm?

She doubled back to her starting point and waited patiently for a moment. Nothing happened. It didn't feel like a secret realm teeming with danger. Finally, Zora headed toward the woods.

The spiritual energy here was incredibly abundant. The December Sect was already a peerless holy land for spiritual energy, yet the Wave Husk Secret Realm was even more suitable for cultivation. The energy seemed to be everywhere, dense and pure.

She walked through the forest for a long time. Morning dew dripped onto her clothes and the tips of her hair. The soil and short grass beneath her feet were exceptionally soft; every step the girl took left a shallow footprint.

Finally, a figure slowly approached. The person wore wide robes and a broad belt, with a square wooden box hanging at her waist. She showed no hostility, appearing to be taking a leisurely stroll. Zora stopped and stared at her. The person walked past as if she hadn't seen her, remaining oblivious even when Zora called out.

"?"

This person was ignoring her. Zora was dazed for a moment, then followed, pulling up beside her. "Why aren't you acknowledging me?"

The person smiled as she gazed at the peach blossoms nearby, admiring the scenery as she walked. Zora quickened her pace and stood directly in front of her. Unexpectedly, the person walked straight into her. Zora instinctively moved to draw her sword, but like creatures of two different worlds, the person passed right through Zora's body, continuing forward without breaking her stride.

Zora froze for a moment. She was still in the posture of drawing her sword while the person had already walked through her toward the depths of the forest.

"..."

I've become air.

Zora realized this and naturally sheathed her sword. Seeing only that one person, she followed. The woman was dressed as a healer, the wooden box at her waist clinking and clanging. Her steps were light; as she neared her destination, she even broke into a run, darting through the trees like a carefree white deer.

She reached a cliff—the same spot where Zora had started. A stone table and chairs had appeared there at some point, and a woman sat there gazing at the distant mountains.

"Yun Zhang, you arrived so quickly." The healer spoke in a cheerful tone, sitting on a stone stool.

The woman named Yun Zhang had only a single tree branch pinned through her dark hair. Her features and dress were plain, giving her a clean, simple appearance, yet her aura was sharp as a blade. Sitting there, she was like a sword; her dark pupils were razor-sharp, appearing ready to target her prey at any moment. Her sword lay on the table without a sheath, the edge stained with blood as if she had just killed someone.

Zora's body tensed, her nerves on edge, before she remembered she was currently "air." There was no need for vigilance, so she relaxed.

"Because the enemies were too weak," Yun Zhang said lightly.

"Sigh, I wonder how long it will take for cultivation to truly reach a breakthrough. Currently, most people can only extend their lives; only a few have touched the threshold of immortality, stumbling into the ranks of cultivators."

...

They chatted casually—though the woman named Yun Zhang barely spoke.

Zora understood the history of this world; it had been taught in the sect. Even if the specific events of tens of thousands of years ago had lost their color over time and lacked detailed records, many people knew the general gist. This should be a time before cultivation sects had formed. The title of "cultivator" didn't carry as much weight yet. Mortals had only just begun to figure out the ways of cultivation, and stories of flying or tunneling through the earth only existed in rumors.

Chaos and disorder prevailed. Zora's cultivation level would actually be considered top-tier here. Fortunately, cultivators were rare, so the troubles weren't that severe.

After a long time, three people were sitting at the stone table. Zora joined them, sitting there and spacing out. She didn't know what they were doing.

Where is the danger? Where are the enemies?

Luo Jin concluded with lingering interest: "...So I have already found a cultivation path suitable for healers. Yun Zhang, why don't you do the same? Gather a group of like-minded cultivators together to cultivate. More people mean more methods, and perhaps we can avoid many detours. No one knows what lies at the end of cultivation." She laughed teasingly, "Is it truly ascending to immortality—?"

Zora was far too bored, so she answered, "Probably not. For most people, the end is the Yellow Springs. I've never heard of anyone actually ascending in the past. Also, you should be dead by now."

Luo Jin didn't know a "person from the future" was giving spoilers; she began to talk about her patients. Zora remained expressionless, and Yun Zhang was also expressionless; both were deep in thought. The difference was that Zora began to eat osmanthus cakes from her storage bag, while Yun Zhang calmly wiped her sword.

Having finished their one-sided chat, they seemed to have only met for a quick catch-up and soon parted ways.

Luo Jin laughed: "You travel alone; it's not easy to find you. Fine, fine, a true friend is hard to find. Who knows when we'll meet again. Be careful during your cultivation—don't provoke too many people. I'm afraid you'll be besieged."

"My sword has never lost."

The two parted. Zora hesitated for a moment and followed Luo Jin. The path grew increasingly familiar until she saw a giant rock carved with the words

Floating Cloud Valley

. Beside it was a smaller stone with small characters engraved on it.

—The path to the Dao must be practiced personally. There are millions of ways to cultivate through alchemy. Only after repeated failures can the Great Dao be achieved.

—Saving the world, the heart of a healer.

Zora looked at it with confusion. A few lines seemed to be missing.

Luo Jin stepped into Floating Cloud Valley. At this time, the entrance had no array; it was just an ordinary small path leading to a few thatched huts. Patients specifically came to the valley to seek medical help. Currently, the valley had only a hundred or so people, all dressed as healers, quite different from the cultivators in Zora's memory. They were more like benevolent mortal doctors than medicine cultivators.

"This medicine must be brewed for the full time, do you understand? You absolutely cannot drink it early."

"Eat fewer snacks, don't overwork yourself, and rest for a few days."

Amidst the noisy instructions of the healers, a medicine boy scurried past holding a basket. His eyes brightened when he saw Luo Jin, and a smile broke across his round, rosy face. "Valley Master Luo! You're back?"

Luo Jin answered with a smile. As she walked, people greeted her with either respect or joy. This scene was just like Liyu being the Goddess.

Zora paused, looking down blankly at the food in her hand.

Eating should be done with a cheerful mood.

She finished the osmanthus cake in one bite, tossing the association and the faint worry in her heart to the back of her mind.

Luo Jin seemed to be the first Valley Master of Floating Cloud Valley. Once she finished handling the valley's affairs, a disciple ran over with joy written all over his face. "Valley Master! Valley Master! The Emperor has sent people to find you again! They brought so much gold and jewelry, and precious herbs!"

Zora watched quietly as Luo Jin packed her medical kit and followed the people from the palace to perform a consultation. Red walls and golden roofs—the palace was surrounded on four sides. It wasn't as magnificent as it would be in Zora's later era, but it still had a stifling sense of confinement.

The Emperor showed respect to Luo Jin, but it was tempered with imperial arrogance. At this time, medicine cultivators weren't called such; they were called healers. Cultivators were like a pile of loose sand, mostly rogue practitioners. Only Luo Jin had gathered the unarmed healers—whose cultivation lacked martial power—into Floating Cloud Valley. The name meant they were like floating clouds; wherever the wind of need blew, they would go.

Saving the world, the heart of a healer.

She shared the cultivation path she had explored with her fellow healers who possessed the right constitution. Countless patients were treated free of charge and regained their health.

The human imperial family also wanted to find a path for cultivation, but talent and spiritual roots were determined from birth. Such things were rare; among the vast population of the world, very few could be found—let alone in the imperial family. Neither the Emperor, his officials, his concubines, nor his princes possessed them.

The common people were told that Heaven gave the Emperor the power to rule. If the Son of Heaven himself couldn't cultivate, the matter of cultivation absolutely couldn't be publicized too much. Thus, few commoners knew that aside from mortals, there was a group of cultivators exploring the Great Dao.

The Emperor's temples were already gray, and his wrinkled eyes were sharp as a hawk's as he looked at Luo Jin. For the past few years, Luo Jin's face had remained the same, showing no signs of aging. Cultivators and mortals shared this land; the cultivation and mortal realms had not yet been divided. The Emperor knew a bit more: so far, only four paths had been opened. Subsequent cultivators would simply choose one of these four and use methods suited to themselves.

The first person to enter the Dao through medicine was Luo Jin. She gathered the weak healers to study the way of herbs and alchemy together.

The one who entered through talismans was Feng Chenting, who loved fishing by the sea and often stayed there.

The one who entered through Buddhism was Yuan Zhen, a compassionate man worshipped by the people.

Finally, there was Yun Zhang, who entered through the sword. That swordsman was the peak of cultivation; it was said she could split waves with a single strike to create a wide path.

That

was true cultivation,

that

was power.

And the rest... The Emperor glanced at Luo Jin, who was taking the Empress Dowager's pulse with perfect composure. The rest were just long-lived people with some strange skills and medical techniques.

Zora looked around. She had never been to a palace before and found the strict hierarchy and interesting clothes of these people fascinating. Luo Jin prepared some medicine; before she left, the Emperor said with a smile and a hidden meaning:

"Healer Luo, have the people of your Floating Cloud Valley forgotten my court? Even my prince couldn't move a small medicine boy from your valley."

Luo Jin's expression paled slightly. She was about to speak.

Zora's vision blurred. When she opened her eyes again, she was facing the Emperor's condescending face.

"?"

The Emperor said to her, "What? Are even my words no longer effective?"

It seemed she had taken on Luo Jin's role. Zora was finally able to speak, but she ignored the Emperor, turned around, and pushed the door open.

The Emperor paused, then flew into a rage. "What a Floating Cloud Valley! Do you think you can stand above me? Someone, come!"

Zora had taken over the role physically. Her sword was still there, and her body was her own. She casually drew her sword and slit a man's throat.

The moment blood gushed out, her vision went black, and she entered a void, bottomless space.

"Ugh...!" She felt her limbs being compressed. Intense pain washed over her, and no matter how she dodged, she couldn't escape. The girl gritted her teeth, cold sweat dripping from her forehead. She had never experienced such pain; it was a hundred times worse than her skull caving in. Her voice failed her. She curled up as best she could, her body shaking uncontrollably, her fingers drawing blood from her palms.

It felt like dying, yet it was more agonizing than death. Ten thousand hands seemed to be churning her internal organs, her brain was being hammered, and her eyes were heating up unnaturally, as if soaked in too much blood.

After an unknown amount of time, just as Zora's nerves were jumping and she was about to reach her limit and faint, the pain receded like a tide. She was back in front of the Emperor; time had reset.

The Emperor narrowed his eyes and said, "What? Are even my words no longer effective?"

Zora could feel a portion of her life force had been snatched away. If this happened a certain number of times, she would likely die. Having finally figured out the rules of the secret realm, the girl's amber eyes quickly grew steady and unruffled. The pain that could drive a person mad quickly dissolved in her gaze.

It seemed she had to act—figure out a person's temperament, guess what they would say and do.

...She wasn't good at this. Zora couldn't help but think of Vane. He was much better at it.

Most of the people in the Wave Husk Secret Realm were corpses who couldn't endure the torture, gave up voluntarily, and were consumed by the realm. But no one knew what kind of torture it was.

It had been an unknown amount of time. He hadn't been counting the days; every day was dull and monotonous, each passing similarly, failing to pique any interest. The flow of time in the secret realm was different from the outside world, though no one knew exactly how, as every secret realm was different.

How did I think of coming to the cultivation world in the first place?

Vane occasionally wondered.

It seemed that to survive, his initial thought was that he had to live no matter what. Even if he had to become a "good person" in the cultivation world, he had to do it, and it wouldn't be hard to accomplish. But now, he found it somewhat difficult to persist. If he had never met Zora, perhaps he really would have become the pride of the December Sect, Jin Chuyang's good disciple, and everyone's good senior or junior brother, living that way forever.

But it was different now; he had met her. Without Zora, he didn't even bother returning to the sect, having no desire to maintain the mask of a genius young cultivator that the sect was proud of. It was very dull, very uninteresting. The life of the cultivation world was so unbearable, even more unpleasant than the Demon Realm.

But she was still alive. The youth was like a literal puppet, breathing on the ground day after day. Sometimes time felt incredibly long, and at other times, he lost all sense of it, feeling exceptionally numb.

Had months passed? Or years? It was all the same anyway.

"Congratulations on your breakthrough, Senior Brother!"

Outside the Jintao Hall, a disciple spoke to the youth. A new batch of disciples had already entered the sect. Vane glanced at him, paused, and then smiled. "Thank you, Junior Brother."

His smile was full of spirit, appearing like a brilliant, arrogant youth—neither humble nor overbearing, yet full of the pride of a genius. After he left, several junior brothers and sisters gathered together.

"Senior Brother Vane is truly a genius. He's surpassed Senior Brother Song, hasn't he? It's only been a few years."

"And I've never seen Senior Brother Vane idle. He's either on a mission or hunting enemies."

"His character is also great. No wonder the sect values him so much."

"Everyone says he's the next in line for the Sword Sovereign. In terms of strength, Senior Brother Vane is the only one who can even think about reaching that position."

The Vane ahead felt no change in his heart. Since her departure, his heart had maintained a steady frequency. In all these years, it hadn't changed for a single moment. On the surface, he still had vivid reactions to things and people, but his heart, blood, and even his brain presented a cold, detached posture, showing not a sliver of emotion.

Suddenly, the soul lamp resting against the spear in his storage bag flickered, glowing and dimming sporadically. Dark Dust, which had been resting quietly against the soul lamp's base, immediately began to vibrate and hum, conveying a terrifying sense of frenzy.

A weapon is the truest reflection of its master. It was in a constant state of restless agitation, even if its master appeared very calm on the surface.

Vane stopped his steps, his expression faltering. He took out the soul lamp—Zhou Shijin had given it to him. According to her, she didn't feel she needed Zora's soul lamp; she could just tell the life status of her disciple by looking at whether Vane was dead. Zhou Shijin had also seen that Zora had been gone for too long and Vane was repressing himself too much. She was afraid that by the time Zora returned, he would have gone mad without anyone noticing—since Zora certainly wouldn't see through his acting or care about his mental state—and it would be like raising a tiger that would cause trouble. So, she simply handed the soul lamp over.

Now, the soul lamp was flickering, proving that its master was suffering through life-and-death agony. The knuckles gripping the spear handle tightened, and the spear immediately went still. It was no longer frenzied, but instead became as calm as a pool of stagnant water that no longer flowed.

The youth stared intently, his dark eyes filled with a thick, impenetrable gloom. The surroundings were deathly silent. Finally, the soul lamp's flame stabilized, emitting a faint warmth as usual, though it was slightly weaker than before.

Vane stood and watched for a long time, as if time had stopped. It wasn't until dusk fell that he lowered his brows and put the soul lamp away. The spear leaned against it once more, guarding it.

It was truly strange. His brain was frantic with anxiety, yet his heart was a pool of dead silence. The two sensations tore at him, splitting him into two bloody halves. His brain was manifesting normal worry and anxiety, yet spiritual energy flooded his heart, forcefully controlling his emotions.

Every piece of food has a way to stay fresh. This was the only way for Zora's puppet youth to keep himself "fresh"—to suppress himself, to try his best to stay repressed, so as not to rot and spoil too early and do something that would change his current status. That would be violating Zora's command.

Until Zora emerged from the secret realm, her status as a disciple of the December Sect was frozen and unchanging. Therefore, he too had to be like her—never changing.