Outside the canyon camp, Ling Xiyue led Luo Qingchen on a patrol.
Several inner disciples responsible for scouting flew in from afar, landing with dusty faces.
“Senior Sister!”
The leading disciple gasped, shaking his head repeatedly.
“This secret realm is downright cursed!”
“We searched a hundred miles in every direction, not a single high-grade spirit herb left—not even a weed with a trace of spiritual energy!”
Another disciple chimed in.
“The cave dwellings to the west were even worse. Not only were the artifacts and pills completely cleaned out, but even the bluestone slabs on the floors had been pried up!”
“This is absolutely a plague of locusts!”
Ling Xiyue listened expressionlessly and nodded slightly.
She turned her head and glanced at Luo Qingchen standing beside her.
Luo Qingchen clasped her hands behind her back, tilted her head to look at the sky, and pretended she hadn’t heard a thing.
‘She’s thrilled inside.’
Could it be clean?
Of course not.
I worked overtime all night, scraping the ground three feet deep.
‘I was just looking at those floor tiles—super pretty. I planned to use them to decorate my own cave dwelling later. Nice and satisfying.’
Making a fortune quietly—that’s the truth of the cultivation world.
Half an hour later, Wangyou Zhenren gave the order to break camp.
Over a hundred Hidden Sword Mountain disciples marched in full force toward the secret realm entrance.
At the entrance, the atmosphere was tense and knife-edged.
The leading elders from several major sects—Heavenly Sound Sect, Overlord Blade Sect, Divine Spear Sect—had all gathered.
Each faction stood in their camp, wary of one another.
Kuangdao Laozu stood at the front, his broad-backed blade slung over his shoulder, his face dark.
Seeing Wangyou Zhenren lead his group out, Kuangdao Laozu snorted coldly.
“Wangyou, old devil, everyone’s here. According to the rules, show us what Hidden Sword Mountain harvested in the secret realm. Whoever got the most gets the rights to this realm from now on.”
Wangyou Zhenren stepped forward.
The old man’s face was full of pain as he forced out a sigh.
He slowly pulled out the storage pouch Luo Qingchen had handed over.
Untying the mouth, he dumped it on the ground.
Rustle rustle.
A pile of shriveled low-grade spirit herbs, a few dull yellow-rank spirit tools, and plenty of scrap metal.
Complete silence.
The Nascent Soul elders from each sect released their divine sense, sweeping over the pile of junk.
They scanned three times.
Confirmed it was a heap of pure garbage.
Kuangdao Laozu was stunned for a few seconds, then threw his head back and laughed.
“Hahaha! Wangyou, old devil! Your Hidden Sword Mountain sent hundreds of people in, and this is what they picked up—trash? I see it now! This is nothing but an abandoned secret realm with depleted spiritual energy!”
The old woman from Heavenly Sound Sect leaned on her staff and shook her head.
“Such barren land isn’t even worth my outer disciples’ time. Heavenly Sound Sect gives up the rights. We’re out.”
The sturdy man from Divine Spear Sect was even more direct.
“Waste of time. Let’s go.”
He waved his hand, and Divine Spear Sect’s disciples soared away immediately.
Kuangdao Laozu put away his blade, his face full of mockery as he looked at Wangyou Zhenren.
“Old devil, since you like picking up trash so much, I’ll give you this abandoned secret realm. Overlord Blade Sect can’t afford to lose face like that.”
With that, he and his men turned into a bloody rainbow and fled swiftly.
In the blink of an eye, only Hidden Sword Mountain remained at the entrance.
Wangyou Zhenren looked at the empty surroundings.
The old man’s pained expression vanished, and his wrinkled face instantly bloomed.
He waved his hand and swept the junk back into the storage pouch.
“Since all fellow cultivators are so generous, I’ll reluctantly accept this secret realm.”
Luo Qingchen, hiding behind the group, watched and clicked her tongue.
‘This old geezer missed his chance at an Oscar. He even deducted nine-tenths of what I gave him. Maybe he thinks the realm isn’t worth fighting for. These old monsters in the cultivation world survive entirely on acting.’
Wangyou Zhenren turned around, in high spirits.
“Return to the sect!”
Over a hundred Hidden Sword Mountain disciples drew their swords in unison.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh.
Beams of sword light shot into the sky, carrying everyone aloft.
Luo Qingchen stood frozen on the spot.
She was only at mid-stage Foundation Establishment—she couldn’t ride a sword at all.
Fellow disciples flew past one by one.
Even Zhao Shixiong intentionally circled above her head, dusting her face.
Ling Xiyue walked over to Luo Qingchen.
The Green Scale Sword unsheathed and hovered in midair.
Ling Xiyue reached out, precisely grabbed Luo Qingchen by the back of her collar, and lifted her like a chick.
With a light tap, she stepped onto the sword and shot into the clouds.
In the sky.
The wind howled.
Luo Qingchen flailed her arms and legs, dangling from Ling Xiyue’s hand like a pendulum.
Watching her fellow disciples zoom by, she was so envious she could drool.
“Senior Sister!”
Luo Qingchen shouted at the top of her lungs, swallowing a mouthful of air.
“When can I fly on my own? Can Foundation Establishment cultivators sword fly?”
Ling Xiyue looked down at the small figure in her hand.
“Yes. Foundation Establishment only requires you to externalize your spiritual power and communicate with your sword.”
Her tone was calm.
“After we return to the sect, I’ll take you to the Sword Grave. Pick a sword that belongs to you. I’ll teach you personally.”
Luo Qingchen was so happy she nodded repeatedly in midair.
‘This powerful backer is totally worth it—she even offers a full course!’
At the same time.
The scene shifted to a wilderness hundreds of miles from the secret realm.
Xiao Bai was sprinting on his four short legs through waist-high weeds.
Suddenly.
Boom!
A terrifying pressure—peak Core Formation—descended from the sky and slammed directly onto Xiao Bai.
Xiao Bai’s legs gave way.
Splat.
His entire dog face slammed into the mud.
The surrounding weeds were flattened by the pressure.
A young man in brocade robes descended from the sky and landed in front of Xiao Bai.
Behind him followed three guards with steady, Core Formation early-stage auras.
It was Xiao Bai’s former master.
The young man stepped forward, raised his boot, and stomped on Xiao Bai’s dog head, grinding it down.
“Run. Why aren’t you running?”
His gaze was cold, murderous.
“I’m asking you. What exactly did those two women trigger in the valley? Where did they go now? Tell one lie, and I’ll skin you alive today!”
Xiao Bai lay in the mud, his mind racing.
Going head-to-head was certain death.
He immediately dropped his lecherous expression.
His dog eyes closed, then opened.
Tears burst out like a broken dam.
“Woof! Young Master! You’ve finally come!”
Xiao Bai grabbed the young man’s boot with both front paws and wailed loudly.
His voice was utterly pathetic, enough to move anyone who heard.
“Those two women went crazy! They stepped on an ancient lethal teleportation formation. They barely escaped with their lives themselves!”
The young man frowned, and the pressure from his foot eased a little.
“A deadly teleportation formation? Then how did you get out?”
Xiao Bai sniffled, wiped his tears with a paw, his dog face full of grievance.
“Young Master, please see clearly! I’m small. When the formation activated, I was squeezed to the edge! I risked my life and crawled out through a gap in the formation! They’re probably still trapped inside. I ran out to guide you!”
The man laughed heartily.
“Good, good, good. If I can capture that little thief, the big shot from the Central Plains will surely reward me heavily. My father will also see me in a new light.”