Chapter Thirty-Four: I Must Leave an Heir for the Zhou Family

“It’s just two low-grade spirit stones, of course no one would be willing to stand guard for that. But at the foot of Mount Changling, there are more than twenty spirit farmers—if each of us contributes two low-grade spirit stones, that adds up to fifty. Split among five people, that’s ten low-grade spirit stones each, and now there are plenty of volunteers. Especially since right now, everyone’s spirit rice is almost ripe, but it’s in the ‘growing and fattening’ stage, so no one’s willing to harvest early. Otherwise, it would’ve been hard to organize this night watch at all.”

Old Xu quickly chimed in. Although the spirit grain was technically mature, as long as the stalks had not yet withered yellow, the rice would continue to grow in size and weight. Even the shriveled grains at the tips would benefit, soaking up spiritual energy to become plump and full. For the sake of a better harvest, many spirit farmers would rather wait a few more days. After all, waiting just one extra day per acre could mean dozens or even hundreds more pounds of yield; over ten acres, that’s several hundred or even a thousand pounds. That’s also why, despite repeated disasters, Old Xu was unwilling to harvest early.

“That’s fine,” Zhou Changwang said after a moment’s hesitation, finally nodding. This spontaneously organized night watch benefited everyone, so he had no reason to refuse. Besides, he no longer cared about those two spirit stones.

After handing over his two stones, Old Xu cheerfully hurried off to Xu Zhong’s field to continue persuading others. Zhou Changwang paid them no mind and began tending his spirit fields as usual.

The little spirit hound wandered around the fields on its stubby legs, only becoming wary and growling whenever it neared the area ravaged by the Ironclad Boar. Clearly, it could still smell traces of its foe. Compared to that creature, the pup was still far too weak—even the lingering scent left it on high alert.

With the spirit rice nearly ripe, Zhou Changwang actually found himself with less to do. Even pest control was handled by the little hound, who would catch the spirit bugs clinging to the rice and bring them to Zhou Changwang for praise.

Taking advantage of this free time, Zhou Changwang focused on the set of basic talisman manuals, slowly absorbing their teachings on the art of talismans. Whenever he encountered something he didn’t understand, he would consult the jade slip containing the notes on talisman crafting, gradually resolving his doubts. When his eyes grew tired, he practiced other spells—mainly Metalfinger and Fireball, the only two offensive spells he had mastered. He knew that raising their proficiency would allow him to wield far greater power.

He also devoted time to studying Earthfissure and Withered Wood Rejuvenation. However, these were mid-tier spells with complex rune structures and demanding spiritual power control. Despite multiple attempts, he had yet to succeed in casting either one.

“Earthfissure has thirteen rune structures,” Zhou Changwang mused, “my spiritual power is sufficient, but the mental strain is immense. Withered Wood Rejuvenation is a bit simpler, with only twelve runes… no wonder so few low-level cultivators practice mid-tier spells—the difficulty is truly great.”

He silently familiarized himself with the rune structures of both spells. After some thought, he decided to focus on Withered Wood Rejuvenation first, given its relative simplicity and less intricate rune composition.

He rallied his spiritual power, forming the runes one after another. One breath, two breaths, three… after five breaths, his spiritual power scattered and he lost control.

“As expected, it’s extremely difficult. In five breaths I only managed to form six runes before everything collapsed.” But the failure did not discourage him—after all, even Fireball, a basic spell, had taken him over ten tries to master, so it was no surprise that this mid-tier spell would be even harder.

He tried again. “This time, only five runes—the issue was lack of control, too much power input, making the structure unstable.”

“Now I formed seven runes, but the overall structure was too loose. Even if I managed all twelve, the spell wouldn’t work like this…”

“It’s still a matter of structural control. The runes aren’t two-dimensional—they’re cubes, and every facet needs to be shaped perfectly…”

Again and again, Zhou Changwang attempted the spell, spiritual power swirling around him and then dissipating with each failure. But he did not stop. Once, twice, three times—constantly experimenting and refining his technique.

Only when his spiritual reserves were completely exhausted did he return to himself, discovering that midday had long since passed. His father had brought over a bowl of spirit rice and set it aside, while he himself sat chatting with Old Xu. Seeing Zhou Changwang awake, his father bade Old Xu farewell and walked over.

“Father, did you agree to teach Old Xu’s grandson martial arts?” Zhou Changwang asked curiously, having overheard a snippet of their conversation.

“No,” Zhou Qiankun shook his head. “I’ve made some inquiries—half a month from now, a merchant caravan will be traveling to Eastwood Immortal City, passing through the Tianwu Kingdom.”

“What do you mean?” Zhou Changwang was taken aback.

“I’m planning to leave,” Zhou Qiankun sighed.

“Leave?” Zhou Changwang shot up, flustered. “Leave here? Go where?”

“Twenty years ago, I arrived at this Phoenix Echo Market full of ambition, determined to cultivate and become immortal. But the truth was, without a spiritual root, there was no path to immortality for me. So I placed my hopes in the next generation—in you. Your mother’s death became my obsession, and these years have felt like treading thin ice, full of hardship. Now her great vengeance is avenged, and you’ve found your footing here and can take care of yourself. So, I can finally let go and return.”

Zhou Qiankun looked at his son and said, “Besides, there’s nothing more I can do for you now.”

“How could you say that? If not for your guidance in so many things…” Zhou Changwang started.

But Zhou Qiankun interrupted, “A fledgling must learn to fly on its own. I’ve spent the first half of my life living for others. In the second half, I wish to live for myself. I’ve already decided—I’ll return to the mortal realm, find a place with beautiful scenery, and enjoy my remaining years. If I feel lonely, I may even take another wife… Over these years, I’ve done all I can for your mother. As for your future in the world of cultivation, I can’t predict it, nor can I control it. But I must leave a legacy for our Zhou family. If fortune smiles and one of my descendants is born with a spiritual root, I’ll have them follow in my footsteps and seek you out. I hope, for the sake of our bond as father and son, you’ll look after them if that day comes.”

…

Thanks to the reader with the ending digits 0417 for the reward—our book’s first hall master! Thank you!