Chapter 109: Familiar Faces

In the dark pine forest, Chen Luo rested at the entrance of a cave.

Ever since killing the rogue cultivator Wan Ming, he had been constantly on the run. Utilizing Wan Ming’s lingering obsession, he successfully avoided several critical search points and retrieved some resources left behind by Wan Ming, replenishing his strength slightly.

However, an obsession remained just that—an obsession, not complete memories.

Two days ago, Chen Luo encountered a battle in the black pine forest against three rogue cultivators in the Late Stage Qi Refinement. He narrowly escaped disaster, almost capsizing in shallow waters.

This encounter also showcased the ferocity of rogue cultivators in combat.

Their techniques were honed through relentless battles, vastly different from what was taught at the Divine Lake Immortal Sect.

“Those individuals must have possessed valuable items; it’s truly unfortunate,” a hint of regret flashed in Chen Luo’s eyes.

After a brief rest, he rose again and continued fleeing southward.

Although he hadn’t yet encountered the pursuers directly targeting him, the two Foundation Establishment brains consistently issued warnings, even the mummified brain echoed with feedback:

Danger!

Under these circumstances, Chen Luo dared not linger in one place for too long.

He followed the river downstream towards the south.

After traveling for about half a day, the sky grew overcast.

The southern region had entered its rainy season.

Using bamboo, Chen Luo crafted a rain cape and continued his journey amidst the heavy downpour.

The torrential rain washed away any traces of his escape. As he moved through the storm, he distinctly felt the pursuing aura weakening behind him. One of the Foundation Establishment brains no longer signaled danger.

Having evaded pursuit for so long, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“It’s raining in spring!” The joyful voices of Changnan Kingdom farmers echoed from a distant hillside.

Like a ghost shrouded by the rain, Chen Luo tread lightly on fallen leaves. Hearing the voices, he glanced back to see a small village with rice paddies near its entrance. An elderly farmer stood knee-deep in water, calling out instructions. Nearby, a young couple bent over, planting seedlings—a scene reminiscent of a picturesque poem.

Pausing momentarily, Chen Luo rested atop the leaves beneath his feet.

He took out a Vitality Nurturing Pill, consumed it to replenish his energy, then gathered himself once more. After confirming his direction, he resumed his flight.

During this time, he utilized Wan Ming’s rogue cultivator brain to suppress his own presence. This technique was inherent within Wan Ming’s brain; whether all rogue cultivators were similarly cautious or if it persisted even after death remained unclear, as the habit of concealing one’s aura was still evident.

Approximately four hours after Chen Luo’s departure,

a young man clad in black, accompanied by a black-haired zombie, arrived at the mountain pass. Upon reaching this point, the trail had grown faint; with the rain washing away any traces, even the black-haired zombie could no longer detect the scent.

“It’s gone.”

The disciple of the Corpse-Raising Sect stood near the muddy ground, his expression grim.

Throughout the chase, he had come close enough to catch the scent of his quarry. Yet each time, upon arrival, all he found were three slain rogue cultivators. It was as if the Divine Lake Immortal Sect disciple could anticipate his movements, narrowly evading capture every step of the way.

After days of pursuit, he still hadn’t glimpsed his opponent’s appearance.

“Just wait until I find you,” muttered the Corpse-Raising Sect disciple, raising his hand and slamming it against a nearby tree trunk.

Instantly, the pitch-black poison palm corroded through the wood, spreading its toxic aura and emitting wisps of sizzling white smoke. In the blink of an eye, the tree trunk was hollowed out, collapsing sideways amidst a loud crash.

This was the ‘Corpse Poison Hand,’ a unique divine ability of the Corpse-Raising Sect.

Given his mastery of the Corpse Poison Hand, this disciple’s standing within the Corpse-Raising Sect must have been significant.

Half a month later.

Chen Luo successfully evaded the blockade set by both sects and found a secluded little market near the border of the Changnan Kingdom. After paying with spirit stones, he boarded an intercity airship.

After several transfers, he finally arrived in the territory of the Luxury Nation.

However, upon reaching there, Chen Luo was unsure of where to go next.

Daoist Wuwei hadn’t ventured down from the mountain in many years, and when Chen Luo reached the specified location, it turned out not to be Northriver Village but rather a place called Mushan City.

He asked numerous people, yet none had ever heard of Northriver Village.

Unwilling to give up, Chen Luo visited the city lord’s residence and thoroughly searched their archives.

The result remained unchanged.

Northriver Village simply did not exist. Records dating back over two hundred years were nowhere to be found.

There was indeed a North Gorge Village, but no family named Qi resided there.

“Could they have remembered the wrong location?”

Standing in Mushan City, Chen Luo felt uncertain about his next move.

The situation at Divine Lake Immortal Sect was already chaotic, making it impractical for him to seek answers there now. All he could do was proceed step by step.

Finding this person was crucial. If all else failed, he would visit the palace of the Luxury Nation and enlist the help of its royal family.

As a cultivator at the pinnacle of the Qi Refining stage, he had the confidence to pursue such avenues.

“Junior Brother Chen?!”

A voice suddenly called out.

Surprised, Chen Luo turned around to find a familiar face.

“Elder Brother Hu?”

It was indeed Hu Qiudao, the very same who had escorted Chen Luo, Huang Ying, and others up the mountain when they first joined the sect! Last year, Hu Qiudao descended from the mountain, but Chen Luo, busy earning spirit stones, hadn’t gone to bid him farewell. To his astonishment, after taking a circuitous path, he encountered Hu Qiudao here once again.

“It really is you! What brings you to Mushan City?” Hu Qiudao exclaimed with delight.

Chen Luo then noticed that besides himself, Hu Qiudao was accompanied by two women. The former shixiong who used to welcome newcomers on the mountain had become a wealthy gentleman among mortals. Judging by their attire, these women appeared to be part of Hu Qiudao’s household.

“Sensing Chen Luo’s gaze, Hu Qiudao smiled and introduced them, “This is my wife, Junru, and her sister, Junya.”

As he mentioned his sister-in-law Jun Ya, Hu Qiudao nudged Chen Luo with a smug expression, reminiscent of their early days when Chen Luo had sarcastically questioned him about calling him ‘Senior.’

This guy still hasn’t lost that sleazy demeanor.

“Ah, it’s Sister-in-Law and Miss Jun Ya,” Chen Luo greeted them with a smile.

Encountering acquaintances in an unfamiliar place felt quite comforting. Moreover, during their time on the mountain, Chen Luo and Hu Qiudao had maintained a decent relationship.

“Greetings, immortal elder.”

Jun Ru and Jun Ya respectfully bowed to Chen Luo.

Both women were aware of Hu Qiudao’s status and understood what being his junior brother signified. Despite Divine Lake Immortal Sect’s struggles within the cultivation world, it remained dominant among mortals. Until the sect’s complete downfall, its influence would not yet reach the ordinary people’s realm.

“What brings you to Mushan City? Don’t tell me you’re from around here too?”

Hu Qiudao waved his hand, signaling for the two women to leave first.

Having not seen each other for over a year, Hu Qiudao eagerly led Chen Luo to a restaurant, ordering a lavish spread of food and drink.

Chen Luo briefly outlined the task Daoist Wuwei entrusted to him.

“Northriver Village.” Upon hearing this name, Hu Qiudao began pondering.

“You’ve heard of it, Shixiong?” Chen Luo’s interest piqued immediately.

He had almost given up hope, but unexpectedly, a lead presented itself right before him. It truly felt like stumbling upon a hidden path just as all seemed lost—finding a village amidst the darkest hour! Compared to the mundane world, cultivators always possessed the most accurate information.

“Yes, there was indeed such a place, although it dates back over two hundred years ago.”

Hu Qiudao genuinely knew about this location.

He had heard about it from his family elders, though he couldn’t recall the specific details now.

The Hu Family was a local cultivator clan, with their patriarch being a formidable cultivator at the pinnacle of Qi Refinement stage. In Mushan City, they were practically unrivaled rulers, wielding more influence than even the emperor himself.

With this new lead, Chen Luo wasted no time. He urged Hu Qiudao to guide him to Northriver Village immediately.

At Chen Luo’s insistence, they hastily left the restaurant, barely halfway through their meal, and rushed back to the Hu residence.

The current head of the Hu Family was Hu Qiudao’s grandfather, a cultivator at the peak of Qi Refinement.

Chen Luo’s visit as an official disciple of an immortal sect stirred excitement throughout the entire Hu Family. They solemnly opened their main gate wide to welcome him, demonstrating the utmost respect. This experience further reinforced Chen Luo’s understanding of the prestige held by disciples of immortal sects.

Within the territories of these three kingdoms, disciples of the Divine Lake Immortal Sect were treated like esteemed hosts, commanding respect from all who encountered them.

“Indeed, there is a record about Northriver Village. Qiudao, please escort our honored guest to the study and assist him in finding it.”

Upon hearing Chen Luo’s purpose, Patriarch Hu promptly instructed Hu Qiudao to guide him to the study.

The Hu Family’s study was even larger than Chen Luo had anticipated.

After searching for half a day, they finally found the desired information:

Northriver Village, once part of the West Mountains region near Mushan City. Two hundred years ago, during a famine, the imperial court provided relief aid. Subsequently, five nearby villages were merged into a single town named Westmount Town. Later, when three towns combined, it became known as Mushan City, with Westmount Town transforming into the Westhill District.

“There was a famine too. After so many years, I wonder if anyone from that time still survives,” thought Chen Luo, recalling Daoist Wuwei.

He wasn’t sure what connection Daoist Wuwei had with Northriver Village, but for him to remember events spanning over two centuries must have been significant. Moreover, the price paid—a painting and insights on Foundation Establishment—was not insignificant.

“It has indeed been two hundred years; this search will be quite challenging.” Hu Qiudao acknowledged after reading the records.

“You’re likely to fail in your quest.”

Hu Qiudao did not seem optimistic about Chen Luo’s mission.

In the world of immortal cultivation, time held little significance.

During his time in the sect, Chen Luo had undertaken similar missions before. Foundation Establishment elders enjoyed lifespans of five hundred years, making them akin to ageless immortals in the eyes of ordinary people, seemingly eternal presences. Occasionally, they would recall their mortal relatives and issue such small quests.

Some tasks led to successful reunions, while others couldn’t even locate the place.

Two hundred years is an incredibly long span for the world of common folk. Considering the average lifespan in the Luxury Nation, it was enough time for three generations to pass away.

“I’ll go take a look first,” said Chen Luo.

He didn’t have any better options; having finally found a lead, he felt compelled to investigate thoroughly before feeling at ease. Especially since it involved a Foundation Establishment legacy.

Clutching the vital clue, Chen Luo personally went to the front hall to express his gratitude to Hu Qiudao’s grandfather, the only member of the Hu Family who had achieved perfection in Qi Refinement. The elderly man treated Chen Luo with great courtesy, escorting him all the way to the door before returning inside.

“Qiudao, your shidi is no ordinary individual,” the old patriarch remarked to Hu Qiudao once back in the room.

The founder of a cultivator clan naturally possessed keen discernment. From the moment Chen Luo entered, he accurately assessed his cultivation base.

Ninth Layer of Qi Refinement!

As Hu Qiudao had mentioned, Chen Luo had been cultivating for just over a year. Achieving the ninth layer of Qi Refinement within such a short span indicated that he was a prodigy with a high likelihood of reaching Foundation Establishment.

It was wise to establish connections with such individuals early on.

“What do you mean by ‘not simple’?” Hu Qiudao seemed puzzled.

With his own cultivation at the sixth level of Qi Refinement, he couldn’t gauge Chen Luo’s true strength and merely assumed that Chen Luo was concealing it.

“Whenever possible, interact more with him and build a rapport.” The elderly patriarch glanced at his grandson and couldn’t help but sigh.

Hu Qiudao’s aptitude was neither exceptional nor poor; he possessed average tier-4 spiritual roots. While this caliber could potentially secure a place within an immortal sect, Hu Qiudao had not succeeded. During his time in the sect, he struggled to accumulate significant resources, constantly busy with daily tasks. Consequently, after three years, he remained only in the mid-stage of Qi Refinement. This was typical for most cultivators; few could match Huang Ying’s ease in amassing resources, backed by powerful patrons like Chen Luo and Elder Sister Shen.

Breaking through from mid-stage to late-stage Qi Refinement was not an easy feat.

Many individuals could be stuck at this barrier for over a decade.

After leaving the Hu Family residence, Chen Luo headed directly towards the Westhill District.

The streets here were remarkably wide and impeccably clean. However, they lacked vibrancy, appearing cold and deserted. As Chen Luo arrived, he noticed a shopkeeper sitting by their storefront, yawning leisurely. A birdcage hung beneath the nearby eaves, its occupants chirping merrily, reflecting a life of utter relaxation.

Chen Luo strolled around but saw hardly anyone. Approaching the shop’s entrance, he addressed the shopkeeper:

“Excuse me, sir, I’m looking for information about someone.”

“Don’t know,” the shopkeeper replied instantly, rocking his recliner without even listening.

“Ten taels of silver.” Chen Luo took out a silver ingot from his sleeve and placed it on the adjacent table.

These items were obtained from rogue cultivator Wan Ming’s hidden treasure trove; Chen Luo had plenty of them.

Upon hearing this, the bird in the nearby cage excitedly squawked, “Silver, silver, we have silver!”

“Sir, how may I assist you!”

The sound of silver instantly roused the innkeeper from his drowsiness, as if he had suddenly come back to life. He swiftly pocketed the silver, and his expression transformed into a fawning smile.

“Have you heard of Northriver Village?”

“No, can’t say I have.”

Considering the money at stake, the innkeeper meticulously searched his memory for a while before responding earnestly.

“Have you ever heard of a person named Qi Boyun? From the same lineage as Qi Tong,” Chen Luo probed further, seeking specific information.

He had encountered the name Qi Boyun in the Hu Family’s study, but their records only went so far. Given that it wasn’t a prominent family, finding even a single name was considered fortunate.

“Qi Boyun.” The innkeeper pondered for a moment, then pointed towards an old residence on the left side, saying:

“I’ve heard of someone called Ji Boyun - the surname doesn’t match exactly, but you can go ask there. His house is right over there.”