Chapter 88: Vane's Daily Life

Unlike Vane’s own numbness, Jin Chuyang was well aware of his disciple's grueling experiences. The soul lamp in the Jintao Hall had flickered countless times; a cultivator traveling alone would always encounter various hardships, enemies, and even schemes.

The youth had faced numerous crises.

Occasionally, after fighting with all his might to kill a demonic enemy, he would lose all his strength and could only lie amongst their corpses, quietly waiting to recover. A dead cultivator is no different from an ordinary person; their bodies, influenced by the demonic Qi emitted by monsters, would rot even faster. The stench of decay mixed with the scent of blood to form an indescribable odor.

As a dead cultivator’s face collapsed, a nearby monster—not yet completely dead—would seep demonic Qi to absorb the cultivator’s life force. But since the cultivator was already dead, the dissipating demonic Qi would instead absorb what remained of the corpse. Eyes and cheeks would sink, and the skin would become like shriveled, dried-out leather, wrinkling over the bone in a terrifying display.

Vane was reattaching his own arm.

At a certain level of cultivation, a practitioner can freely repair severed limbs—unless the enemy's cultivation is significantly higher, leaving a wound that is difficult to heal on one’s own.

Sticky cross-sections, fractured white bone, and uneven red flesh. He knit his brows slightly, eyes cast down, as he joined the severed arm. Flesh and bone quickly met, moving from separation to a lingering connection, and finally to a seamless recovery.

For a Golden Core cultivator, broken bones can regrow, and torn flesh can heal. He was already at the Golden Core stage.

When he broke through previously, Vane felt no real sense of accomplishment. Though overflowing power filled his body and he could easily crush enemies who were once troublesome—like that demonic cultivator in Tao County—all of it only left a faint trace in his heart.

I’ve broken through. I wonder if I am slower or faster than her, or perhaps just right.

This was the only thought he had.

Over the years, Vane’s mind had grown increasingly still. Even when scheming against others, he calmly analyzed their temperaments, not even bothering to mock them. The entire sect was boisterous and celebratory over the addition of another Golden Core powerhouse, especially since Vane’s speed of advancement was considered world-shaking. The last ones to achieve such a feat were Wanghua-jun, Zhou Shijin... and Zora.

But as time marched on, many people no longer had interactions with Zora. It was only natural for them to stop thinking of her or even forget her. However, the girl’s reputation had been so great that even now, mentioning her name would bring back memories for many. That sword cultivator’s pure heart and cultivation had allowed her to stand above her peers and even many seniors, easily overshadowing Vane’s own brilliance.

Whenever someone praised Vane, the youth would smile and offer his thanks with a seemingly spirited and righteous air, yet in his heart, he would offer a similar praise to Zora—one that was even better.

She deserved all of it. Since she was currently busy with other things, as a servant, he had to constantly remember everything she had lost. Her honor, reputation, and praise had ebbed away over these years, while Vane’s name had gradually become thunderous in the cultivation world. What master wouldn't mention Vane to their disciple? They praised his diligence, his ability to endure pain and hardship, his ruthlessness toward himself, and his character.

On the day he broke through to the Golden Core stage, countless people rushed to congratulate him, but the youth was nowhere to be found, and they were sent away by Jin Chuyang.

Vane stood up. The enemy had become a mummified corpse, the clothes sagging and emitting a foul stench, as the monster's demonic Qi had completely dissipated.

Oblivious to the surroundings, he used a spell to change his clothes. Holding the old, torn-sleeved garment in the midst of the bloody corpses, he relaxed his features and treated it as practice. Needle and thread in hand, he mended the sleeve stitch by stitch.

His movements became increasingly practiced, his skill more delicate than that of a mortal embroiderer. Vane pondered for a moment and embroidered a small animal on the cuff—a vivid, lifelike fish that looked as if it might leap off the fabric at any moment.

Once the practice was over, the needle and thread vanished into his storage bag. The blood-stained clothing in his hand caught fire, turning to ash in an instant. He had been like this for three years, ever since a sudden whim made him feel that he hadn't learned enough. Though he was now proficient at cooking, he felt lacking in other areas.

Every time he was injured and an arm was severed, his clothes would suffer as well. Usually, they were destroyed, but since then, a new process had been added before the destruction.

What should I do next?

The youth stood in place, lost in thought.

The mission was complete, today's practice was sufficient, and there was no violent urge in his heart that needed suppressing... Perhaps he should visit a tavern.

The youth set off, shrinking the earth with every step—he was now capable of this technique without relying on talismans. In the blink of an eye, he reached a prosperous city. In the center of the city stood the most bustling and grand tavern. It wasn't mealtime yet, so there weren't many guests.

He didn't enter through the front door but went directly to the kitchen. When the somewhat famous chef saw the youth, he showed no surprise; instead, he stepped forward politely, his face full of smiles. "Immortal, you've come. What would you like to learn today?"

Vane tossed him a spiritual stone. The chef, craving it, caught it and tucked it into his robe, his smile widening. The youth didn't put on airs; he knew well how to treat others, and he understood that even with money, an unpleasant interaction wouldn't serve his purpose.

Vane offered a smile—neither superior nor humble—as if treating a person of equal cultivation. He said, "The sweetest dish from that table by the door."

The chef’s mood relaxed significantly, and he hurriedly agreed. He found that the youth learned everything quickly. The chef had once secretly lamented that if this person weren't a cultivator but a chef, he would be sought after by everyone. Little did he know that the youth learned everything well; culinary skill was just a minor part of it.

Soon, the chef withdrew his hands and stood aside to watch him. He had never seen such a handsome young man, and an immortal to boot; just standing there was enough to attract many gazes. The youth's lashes were lowered and his ponytail was high. Cooking softened the murderous aura about him, yet it couldn't dissolve the faint, lingering isolation that set him apart from the crowd.

But a second later, he set down the kitchenware, tasted the food with a neutral expression, then put down the wooden chopsticks and smiled. "Thank you. This dish stays here with you; do with it as you wish. Farewell."

That feeling of isolation vanished abruptly. The chef nodded and bowed, nervously wiping his clothes. "Not at all, not at all."

Just as he had arrived, he vanished instantly, leaving no trace other than that dish. The chef took the dish for himself. It was sweet but not cloying, and the meat was succulent—truly top-tier. He wondered why the immortal wanted to learn such a thing; perhaps it was a hobby. Great people always have various hobbies.

Leaving the tavern, Vane didn't stop; he went to find more enemies. Like a bird that never rests and has no home, he feared that if he stopped, he would fall straight down. "Zora" had gradually become a piece of bamboo piercing through his body, supporting his spine so he wouldn't collapse, keeping him busy like a living corpse.

What else? I should cultivate.

...

The enemies are too weak; I need to find stronger ones.

...

Entered a hidden secret realm and emerged quickly.

...

Went to learn miscellaneous skills and look at trinkets.

Always imagining her reaction the moment he learned them, visualizing her expression when she received such an item.

...

He was busy every moment. Since sleep was no longer a necessity, he spent eleven out of twelve hours in a state of bustle. The remaining hour was spent at the Bright Mirror Sea.

Drunken Lu Bay had re-sealed the Bright Mirror Sea. He couldn't get too close, so he stood by the shore, staring at the surging waves in silence for a long while before looking down at a cultivation manual.

The cultivators guarding the array knew why he came; he came every day, every year. They wanted him to give up—after all, that was the Wave Husk Secret Realm, and those who came out were either dead or mad. But every time they spoke, the youth didn't argue. His dark, deep pupils revealed nothing, yet the array master would find themselves shrinking back as they spoke. They would finish their piece, but the youth would return the next day, as steady as a rock.

Whatever.

As Vane's reputation grew, people wanted to converse and befriend him. The youth’s attitude wasn't aggressive or overbearing, yet after a day or two, he could easily lead them in circles until they were forced to leave. And those who wished him ill... no one knew what happened to them, but their shadows were never seen again the next day.

Vane finished the book in his hand and put it away. What he wanted was companionship. Not for him to accompany the Zora in the secret realm, but for the Zora in the secret realm to accompany him. The daily "companionship" was like a rope she held around his neck, pressing his head firmly into the ground, forbidding him from entertaining those bloody, obsessive thoughts. He had to wait in place obediently; no matter how anxious he was, he was not allowed to act rashly or attempt to break open the secret realm and disrupt her cultivation.

An hour passed, and Vane left Drunken Lu Bay. He went again to the Falling Rock Forest, to Zora’s room, to perform the cleaning and organizing he did every three days. The trinket he had placed on the table last time now seemed insufficiently exquisite, so he casually destroyed it and placed a new, more beautiful carved figurine.

How much time had passed? He didn't know. Perhaps years, or over a decade, or perhaps only a few days.

"That girl definitely won't die!" Yiling Ke believed this as well. Over these years, she had entered Drunken Lu Bay to study arrays every day and reunite with her family.

Turi Qi had left a new sect jade pendant for Zora. Her relationship with her master had become increasingly strained, with a series of upheavals seemingly having occurred, yet she remained true to her heart, focusing her gaze on the sect as her reputation grew higher and higher.

Song Zhihuai had been deceived. A cultivator had sensed his "stupid" nature and secretly tricked and used him, nearly leading him to sacrifice himself to a demon and perish in its maw. If He Songning hadn't passed by, there was no telling what would have happened. After Song Zhihuai returned, he recuperated for a long time, and Vane and Turi Qi had visited him.

They talked for a long while, but no one mentioned Vane's advancement or his reputation. The three of them knew he didn't care, and they knew even better that all his thoughts were on waiting.

When only Song Zhihuai and Vane were left, Song Zhihuai said, "We are all moving forward, but you are not."

Vane remained impassive and said, "I am cultivating, entering the mortal world, and I have learned many complicated things."

But Song Zhihuai still said, "You are not."

Everyone else was moving forward, but Vane alone had stopped. On the surface, he seemed to be ascending, yet he was easily shattered; with the slightest lapse in attention, he would fall. His heart was still stagnant; his time had stopped.

Vane said no more, his dark eyes deep as he stared calmly, showing no intention of explaining or further communication.

Song Zhihuai said seriously, "Junior Sister Zora, she will return."

"That is a given." Vane’s lips twitched.

Outside the room, Turi Qi lowered her eyes and touched the bracelet on her wrist. When Zora had entered the Wave Husk Secret Realm without hesitation, she too had been dazed, as if hearing a lie. Now much has passed, but having encountered so many people, Junior Sister Zora remained the person she felt most deeply for. Of course, who could forget her after spending time with her? Junior Sister Zora was out of place, yet unique.

Standing to the side, Yiling Ke scratched her head and said nothing. She was now in Drunken Lu Bay, closer to the secret realm. Occasionally, while cracking sunflower seeds, she would complain to the sea about the life of an array master.

Zora, why haven't you come out? Even if it's a corpse, you should at least let her see it.

The brief gathering soon dispersed, and Vane headed outside the sect once more, throwing himself back into his repetitive and busy days.

...

He missed her very much. In this world, he was the one who missed her most; no one could match his longing for Zora. This heavy emotion and the heart-wrenching pain of being left behind were nearly crushing him, clouding his clarity.

So he had to focus his entire weight on "waiting." Making the best preparations, waiting for her return at any time and in any place.