Chapter 12: Little Qing Mountain
“Little Qing Mountain?” Song Changsheng was even more surprised.
Little Qing Mountain was the na of a spiritual mountain, a kind of family enclave located a thousand li away from Cangmang Peak in a rather remote corner.
Despite its isolation, its conditions were far from poor. Beneath it lay a second-rank spirit vein, rich in spiritual energy, it was more than sufficient for Qi Refinent cultivators to train with ease.
The family’s operations there mainly revolved around raising spirit fish and so spirit beasts, all in a free-range manner that required little supervision. It was considered a rare and leisurely post.
Aside from being a bit secluded, it had virtually no shortcomings.
However, such places were typically assigned to the aged clan elders to enjoy their twilight years in peace. Why was he being sent there now?
Perhaps sensing his doubts, Song Xianming chuckled helplessly and said, “You gave your mother quite the scare this ti. When I returned, she specifically asked to give you a safer assignnt.”
“She’s never asked for anything in her life. Out of both sentint and duty, I must honor her request. As it happens, your Fifty-Third Granduncle has grown old. You’ll be replacing him so he can co ho and enjoy his remaining years in comfort.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Song Changsheng imdiately accepted the order. This task was exactly what he had hoped for, though sowhat remote, it required little effort and would allow him to cultivate in peace.
“Good. Pack your things. In three days, your Twelfth Uncle will escort you there,” Song Xianming nodded, dismissing him.
He had only just stepped out of the hall when a fit of violent coughing echoed from behind, imdiately dampening his mood.
Once outside, Song Changsheng sighed softly. “Grandfather sacrificed too much back then. He’s been in seclusion for years, yet there’s been no sign of improvent. Just where in the world can we find a treasure that replenishes vital essence...?”
He couldn’t help worrying. Song Xianming was already two hundred years old. For a Foundation Establishnt cultivator, a lifespan of two hundred fifty was typical.
But by forcibly halting his breakthrough, Song Xianming had damaged the very foundation of his life, drastically shortening his remaining years. Without another breakthrough, his life would soon co to an end.
He was the jade pillar that held up the Song Clan, the bridge of purple gold spanning the sea. If he passed, the blow to the clan would be catastrophic.
“I have to grow stronger as soon as possible...”
Three days later, with everything packed, Song Changsheng stood at the edge of a cliff, silently waiting.
Before long, a streak of rainbow light shot through the sky, approaching rapidly.
Sword flight, the hallmark of a Foundation Establishnt cultivator.
“Nephew greets Twelfth Uncle. Thank you for taking the trouble,” Song Changsheng said respectfully to the figure before him.
Song Luhuai laughed warmly. “We’re family, what trouble is there to speak of? Honestly, I think you should’ve stayed at the main house to cultivate. Once you reach Foundation Establishnt, you could help shoulder so of our burdens.”
Song Changsheng replied seriously, “Fairness must be upheld. I’m no different from anyone else. How could I accept benefits without contributing?”
“Good kid, good kid,” Song Luhuai said with heartfelt admiration, patting his shoulder. “If everyone thought like you, our clan would flourish without worry.”
“It’s getting late. Let’s be on our way.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Song Changsheng stepped onto the flying sword. He felt a slight sway, and then the scenery around him began to blur, rapidly receding behind him. In an instant, they soared through the clouds.
Flying by sword felt nothing like riding a paper kite. Song Changsheng felt as if he had beco a bird, freely soaring beneath the vast sky…
It was a novel sensation but the sword was too fast. In less than half an hour, they had crossed over a thousand li.
As their altitude gradually lowered, a rather modest spiritual mountain ca into view. This was their destination, Little Qing Mountain.
“So this is the Little Qing Mountain the Grand Elder once claid by slaying a superior-grade second-rank beast… I’ve long heard of its unique beauty. Seeing it now, it truly lives up to its reputation.”
Song Changsheng was thoroughly pleased with his future post. Though remote, it was clearly an ideal place for peaceful cultivation.
“Hahaha, let’s go down,” Song Luhuai said, guiding the flying sword to a landing on a stone-paved square halfway up the mountain.
There, five elders were already waiting, all white-haired, exuding a heavy aura of age and twilight.
Song Luhuai put away his sword and led Song Changsheng forward, bowing. “Nephew greets the elders. This is Changsheng, who has co to take over from Fifty-Third Uncle.”
“Junior pays respects to the elders.” Song Changsheng bowed deeply. These were all senior mbers of the “Xian” generation, distinguished contributors to the family’s legacy. Even Foundation Establishnt cultivators showed them due respect.
“Good, good. Finally, we have a young one joining us,” the gaunt elder at the front said cheerfully, stroking his beard.
“Fifty-Third Uncle, if you're ready, I’ll escort you back now. The Grand Elder has been thinking of you,” said Song Luhuai, who was clearly too busy to linger.
“Off I go then. Little Changsheng, that thatched hut of mine is yours now. Everything inside is good stuff, it'll spare you the trouble,” the elder said kindly.
“Thank you for your generosity, Granduncle,” Song Changsheng replied, grateful. This saved him quite a bit of effort.
“Changsheng, I’m off. If you need anything, send a flying sword ssage.”
“Farewell, Twelfth Uncle, Fifty-Third Granduncle,” Song Changsheng said, watching them disappear into the clouds. Only then did he turn back and ask, “Granduncles, may I ask what my duties will be?”
The elders exchanged glances, and one stepped forward, pointing toward a large nearby lake. “That’s the Mirror Lake. It’s stocked with several schools of first-rank Silverthread Fish.”
“Your task, aside from cultivating, is to feed them and ensure they’re not disturbed by other beasts. Lately, a top-grade first-rank bird has been seen near Little Qing Mountain, so be watchful.”
“The family sends people each year to harvest the spirit fish. You must turn in the quota. If the numbers fall short, you’ll have to cover the loss in spirit stones. But if you manage the task well, such a situation rarely happens.”
“I see. Understood.”
...
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Song Changsheng bid the elders farewell and walked toward Mirror Lake.
The lake was expansive. Its clear surface mirrored the azure sky above. When there was no wind, it truly resembled a flawless mirror.
Fruit trees lined the shore. Though ordinary in type and rank, they had absorbed the ambient spiritual energy of the land for years, subtly evolving in nature.
The fruit they bore contained only trace amounts of spiritual energy, enough to satisfy the palate but useless for cultivation.
As such, the family paid little attention to them, treating them instead as a modest perk for the stationed cultivators.
In the center of the lake lay a small island, upon which sat a thatched cottage, a modest patch of spiritual farmland, and a few green plum trees. This would be his new residence, left to him by the departing elder.
“Now, how do I get over there?” Song Changsheng looked around and spotted a few small boats tied to the bank.
He stepped into one, slowly rowing across the still lake toward the island in the center…
(Chapter End)
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