Chapter 34: The Essentials of the Nine Fountains
In the afternoon, the Cangli tribe mbers, temporarily staying at Date Plum Manor, bustled about, preparing to depart.
The battle at Immortal Burial Town cost nearly a thousand lives and countless alien coffins.
Though the Buddha Ferry thieves had retreated, the incident was suspicious and grave. Cangli needed to return to the tribe, report to the elders, and guard against further trouble.
Due to his “congenital language barrier,” Gao Huan avoided conversation, boarding the carriage early.
He was gifted in languages, fluent in four foreign tongues, confident he’d master this world’s speech quickly.
Cangli and a group of tribal experts left the manor.
Beside him were two tall, veiled mysterious won.
One was a pure immortal body, her skin jade-like, aloof, silent since their encounter in the Departed Spirit Fog.
The other, in red with bone chis at her waist, was lively and talkative.
They were “lost wanderers” who strayed into the fog— Qi Shanshan and Cai Yutong.
Cangli had rescued them.
He’d seen pure immortal beauties before, but even among them, beauty varied.
He’d never forget his first sight of Cai Yutong— stunning. This coffin retrieval, though perilous, was a blessing in disguise for this heroic rescue.
“We sisters plan to head to Jiuli City. If it’s not on your way, don’t trouble yourself…” Qi Shanshan began.
Cangli smiled, “What a coincidence— I’m returning to the Cangli tribe, then heading to Jiuli City. You must pass our tribe to get there. Why not visit as guests?”
“With your extraordinary grace, heroic heart, and warm hospitality, you’re the finest man I’ve t,” Qi Shanshan said, curtsying, pulling Cai Yutong onto the grandest carriage.
When Gao Huan lifted the curtain, looking ahead, the won were aboard.
Cangli stood by, adjusting his attire, more nervous than when facing the thieves’ top expert.
“We’re leaving soon— where’s Li Ling?” he asked.
An older cultivator replied, “Fourth Miss said she had business and we shouldn’t wait.”
“Business? In Yao Pass, what business?”
Knowing his sister’s cultivation and independence, Cangli asked no more, striving to appear refined before boarding.
…
I drove the carriage alone, racing along the firm riverbank road.
The Beast Li tribe often retrieved coffins by land, making the road wide, lined with ancient willows and century-old mulberries.
Through the trees’ gaps, I saw giant warships on the Sui River, loaded with coffins, guarded by ard Cangli tribesn.
Cangli, with a small group, had gone ahead to thank the Beast Li tribe. The main tribe and coffins followed by water.
The carriage was slower. By the ti I glimpsed Immortal Burial Town, night was falling.
The sun set, leaving a fiery horizon.
“Old Zhao said nights in the wild are unsafe— departed spirits and fiends grow active, even bugs or curses. The Blood Sea’s two to three hundred miles away. Better stay in town tonight.”
Unaware of the town’s eerie legends, I felt uneasy from yesterday’s bloodshed.
Having faced slaughter and the soul sea, bloodstains didn’t scare .
The corpses were cleared.
Small, unfamiliar animals scurried through grass, licking blood from the soil.
At the town, I dismounted, leading the horse.
Dusk deepened, the sunset cooling.
Mist rose from fields or the roaring Dragon-Slaying Pass waterfall, clouding my vision.
I glanced back, sensing sothing following.
“Am I paranoid? This place isn’t peaceful— no more bone demons or cal ghosts.”
Kiloters of giant stone statues lined the road, heads massive, so weighing tens of thousands, others hundreds of thousands of pounds, all gazing one way.
They reminded of Easter Island’s statues. I stopped, looking where they faced.
Far off, a towering pyramid-like mountain stood, birds circling, clouds low, majestic in the cyan night.
Statues lined the riverbank too.
“Immortal Burial Town… could it really hold an immortal?”
I chuckled, leading the carriage into the blood-reddened town. I didn’t go deep, choosing a relatively intact courtyard.
Soon, a fire blazed in the yard.
Amid the mountain-ringed night, it glowed like a lone lamp.
I transferred food bags from the carriage to the evil cal bell’s space.
Since opening my third fountain, I could enlarge it further.
“Could I summon that three-to-four-ter cal? It could carry things. The bell might hold an entire caravan…”
“Better try with higher cultivation.”
After moving the food, the bell’s weight hadn’t changed, underscoring its extraordinariness.
Controlling it, Yutuonan must’ve been formidable, yet less fad than Zen Sea Mist Watcher.
By the fire, I sipped Golden Crow blood.
I realized my rapid breakthroughs likely ca from it. Not a common bird, its blood was precious.
Top talents here took a decade for four fountains.
Even if Zhao Zhizhuo exaggerated, it wasn’t far off.
A re mortal, not a mutant or pure immortal, why was my cultivation so fast?
Golden Crow blood!
I resolved to bring more back to the ship, maybe cut Golden Crow or Black Dragon at.
I read The Essentials of the Nine Fountains, a gift from Cangli.
Yongquan realm techniques weren’t rare— money could buy them.
But this book’s value lay in the Jiuli experts’ unique insights, aiding young cultivators in opening fountains.
Cangli knew it didn’t repay my favor, promising higher-realm techniques later.
This was a friendly gift, not debt repaynt.
“The Law— internal mana, externalized as qi.”
“Law, fruit, and nirvana are the Law, omnipresent, filling the cosmos.”
…
I read, pondering.
I’d learned so of this world’s script from Senior Sister, understanding thirty to forty percent, needing diagrams to grasp it, harder than classical Chinese.
The gist: Law is the world’s energy, in all things, invisible and intangible to low-realm cultivators.
Law is like water in soil.
Breathing techniques draw Law near, opening fountains to channel it, transforming the body for use.
Stronger breathing draws more Law, sustaining longer, even fighting all day without depletion.
More fountains make the body tougher, channeling more mana.
“The Jade Void Breathing Technique is strong. Even fleeing the Thousand-Headed Dragon Vine all night, my body tired, but my Law didn’t run dry.”
Thinking this, I skipped the book’s breathing technique, studying the vein diagrams.
Left page for n, right for won.
Both showed dense lines— white, red, silver, gold— stemming from nine major acupoints.
“Everyone’s vein colors and numbers differ?”
I felt I didn’t need diagrams. Each fountain opened, and a dozen silver veins ford naturally.
Why so complicated?
I was more curious about the nine fountains’ locations and how to open them.
My three were opened by chance, without thod.
Without Golden Crow blood’s rare potency, a mortal like opening one fountain would’ve been heaven’s luck.
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