Chapter 28: Into the Mountains in Search of Scales

The Blackwind Mountains lay sprawled across the northern expanse of Chizhou, stretching over the territory of two prefectures—a minor range by the standards of the cultivation world. Resources here were scarce, yet the recent incident had drawn treasure seekers in droves, so many they seemed a sea of humanity.

There were solitary wanderers, duos, even large bands moving together—far too many to count. Among them, quite a few cultivators at the Spirit Refining stage, like Cao Chengyu, arrived atop flying artifacts, and even a handful of celestial-blooded prodigies had come to try their luck.

“The difficulty is considerable,” Cao Chengyu thought, glancing at the cultivators darting through the forest below, the word ‘hard’ practically etched upon his brow.

At that moment, a male cultivator riding a gourd-shaped artifact swept over from not far away and called out an invitation. “Fellow Daoist, are you a disciple of the Skyscrying Pavilion? Would you care to join forces with me?”

Cao Chengyu, dressed in the Pavilion’s standard uniform and flying their signature artifact, was easily recognized. After a brief consideration, he declined. After all, this was his first journey beyond the gates, and caution was prudent.

The other man took the refusal without offense, offering a polite gesture before departing.

Cao Chengyu gave it no further thought. Steering his bamboo-leaf artifact, he entered the mountains, intending to try the treasure-seeking methods he had learned from “A Hundred Solutions to Cultivation.”

Not long after he left, that same man met up with four other early-stage Spirit Refining cultivators, and together they slipped into the Blackwind Mountains, following him.

“Boss, is it really a good idea to target a disciple of the Skyscrying Pavilion? What if we get found out…” one of the group, the fifth in rank, voiced his concern.

“Don’t be such a coward, Fifth. The boss has his reasons, don’t you agree?” another chimed in.

“Indeed,” said the gourd-rider with a self-satisfied smile. “Though he’s from the Pavilion, you can tell by his garb he’s only at mid-stage Spirit Refining. Besides, did you see that face? Red lips, white teeth, strikingly handsome—a rare specimen. Sell him to one of those eccentric old monsters with particular tastes, and he’ll fetch a fine price.”

“But…” Fifth still hesitated.

The man’s expression turned cold. “How do you think you got your flying artifacts? All earned from this sort of work. This isn’t our first time. Are you really unwilling?”

At that, the others subtly moved to encircle their target.

Fifth could only sigh and fall silent.

That their five-man gang intended to capture him alive and sell him to some depraved monster was something Cao Chengyu had no inkling of. At this moment, he was experimenting with the treasure-seeking technique.

“A Hundred Solutions to Cultivation” was an intermediate-level treasure, won from a chest. Its unassuming name belied its contents: alongside introductions to various secondary professions and basic spells, it contained common knowledge of the cultivation world, information on typical spirit beasts, and all sorts of useful lore—a veritable encyclopedia. Wherever you were stuck, it had the answer.

According to the book, all flood dragons and dragon-kind spirit beasts carried a unique energy within them, commonly known as dragon qi. This special energy could be of animal or plant origin. What Cao Chengyu needed to find was flood dragon qi—lesser than true dragon’s, with a distinct fishy tang.

This peculiar scent could be detected using the Spirit Scent technique, a basic spell easily learned at a glance. In ancient times, it was common knowledge among cultivators who hunted flood dragons, but now few remembered it—after all, who made a pastime of pulling dragon sinew like Nezha?

Having mastered the method, Cao Chengyu channeled his magic to his nose, manipulating it in a specific way. Suddenly, every other odor faded, leaving only the fishy scent, which even appeared to him as a trail of black miasma to the eye.

“Is it really this obvious?” Cao Chengyu was instantly invigorated and followed the most distinct trace at speed.

In no time, he found a palm-sized chunk of flood dragon flesh wedged in a crack between mountain rocks—no scales, unfortunately, but even the flesh alone, when consumed by a cultivator, would strengthen the body and meridians. And since this was flesh from a Golden Core flood dragon, it was an exceptional tonic for him.

He stowed it in his storage pouch and continued his search.

In less than half an hour, Cao Chengyu found, in succession, a droplet of blood clinging to a leaf, a massive scale buried in the earth, and fragments of bleached white bone. Bit by bit, his haul grew.

In the end, he had half a jade bottle of blood, three scales, and a heap of bone fragments the width of his palm.

He was just pocketing a strip of sinew when—

“Well, kid, luck’s on your side. You really did manage to find flood dragon flesh.”

“It’s you?” Cao Chengyu turned to see the gourd-rider and his four companions closing in, their intentions unmistakably hostile.

Believing it best to avoid unnecessary trouble—especially as he had never fought a duel before and felt unsure of himself—Cao Chengyu decided to offer them the sinew and buy his way out. After all, he’d already harvested plenty and hardly needed this extra piece.

“I can let you have this piece of flood dragon flesh. Will you let me go?”

The gourd-rider sneered. “Let? That was ours to begin with—how could you ‘let’ us have it? Not just the flesh, but you as well, both belong to us.”

He even licked his lips as he spoke, making Cao Chengyu’s skin crawl.

Damn.

Cao Chengyu was alarmed—did this man really harbor such depraved desires? Gritting his teeth, he thought, “I am a man—my dignity shall not be defiled!”

Silently, he activated the Venomous Eye secret art. Invisible toxins began to seep into the bodies of the five cultivators.

The gourd-rider, still oblivious, continued his wicked boasts. “You’re so handsome, boy—how could anyone resist? I’ll be sure to have my fun with you.” He barked, “Brothers, take him alive!”

“Yes, sir!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the four underlings, all early-stage Spirit Refiners, began to channel their magic to cast spells—only for their faces to turn instantly purple. Their energy was blocked by some unknown toxin; they couldn’t muster even enough to keep their flying artifacts aloft.

With a wail, they crashed to the ground, eating dirt.

“What!” The gourd-rider was shocked and quickly swallowed an antidote pill, only to realize a mysterious poison was already circulating within him, nearing his core.

No time to waste, he summoned all the strength of a late-stage Spirit Refiner to suppress the venom in a single meridian and, with a thought, flung out a barrage of talismans, not daring to circulate his magic recklessly.

Cao Chengyu remained unruffled. He drew his standard-issue Maple Leaf Sword, poured his energy into it, and swept through the air—a white sword arc cutting down most of the talismans in one stroke.

This wasn’t a display of Cao Chengyu’s overwhelming strength, but rather a testament to the talismans’ mediocrity—they weren’t even first-grade.

As the chaotic surge of spiritual energy faded and his vision cleared, he saw that the gourd-rider had managed to flee more than fifty meters.

With a flick of his sleeve, Cao Chengyu sent a pale cyan, nearly invisible wind blade slicing through the air.

A moment later, a scream rang out in the distance.

With a thud, the gourd-rider plummeted to the ground, dying on impact.

This sequence of poisoning and attack, though his first time attempting it, unfolded with practiced precision. That was because, in his mind, Cao Chengyu had rehearsed countless scenarios for dealing with opponents—he was already well-versed in such responses.

This first real encounter had gone rather well.