Chapter 124: The Unpredictability of Life

At present, Zhou Qing’s arms were injured, and Lin Yunxi’s main cultivation was not in the arts of demon-slaying or exorcism. After a brief discussion, the two decided to first search for a suitable spot nearby and wait until Zhou Qing’s arms had healed before making further plans.

Behind the river lay a small, flat hollow at the foot of the mountain, unmarred by any stray trees and carpeted with a lush, verdant meadow. In the midst of this deep, wild forest, such a smooth and unblemished stretch of grass seemed almost too perfect, beautiful yet suspiciously artificial. Not only were there no weeds or saplings on this meadow, but the grass itself grew evenly, each blade nearly the same height, rather than the usual uneven sprawl of the wild.

When they had first come ashore, Zhou Qing had only noticed the even terrain by the riverbank, which prompted him to land there. Now, upon closer inspection, a faint sense of unease crept into his heart as he gazed at the grassland. In his estimation, this meadow was undoubtedly man-made—or, more accurately, the work of some supernatural being. Otherwise, how could it be so unnaturally level?

“Yunxi, we’d better leave this place at once,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

With only those brief words exchanged, they stepped onto the grassy field and made their way towards the woods beyond. After a dozen steps, their eyes were both drawn to the center of the meadow, where a flat, circular stone lay half-hidden among the grass. Strange markings were carved into its surface.

Upon seeing the stone, Zhou Qing’s suspicions were confirmed—this meadow was no work of nature, but constructed by some spirit or demon. Given all he had experienced in these wild forests, it was clear this was a gathering place for the supernatural; no human cultivator would choose to live or practice here. The smooth stone altar and the manicured grassland bore all the hallmarks of demonic design, as if some monster had carefully arranged it as a place of cultivation.

Their expressions grew grave at the sight of the stone platform, and without lingering, they headed straight into the woods beyond the meadow. These remote mountains and forests were untouched by humans. As they reached the edge of the woods, they saw wild grass growing unchecked, with no trace of man or beast.

After a quick glance around, Zhou Qing stepped into the thick of the forest, and Lin Yunxi followed. Together, they traversed several hills, places seldom trodden by any living soul. Eventually, they stopped halfway up a great mountain. Here, they found a waterfall tumbling down the slope, and beside it, a cave overgrown with weeds.

The cave was nearly hidden beneath the tangled grass, with only a small opening at ground level, just large enough for a dog to squeeze through. Judging by the entrance, some wild animal must have made its den within.

As the two stood not far from the cave, preparing to leave, a dog’s bark rang out from within. Then, a black wild dog, about the size of a village mongrel, emerged from the darkness. Soon after, another dog of similar size appeared, and finally, a much smaller black puppy scampered out, barking shrilly.

Clearly, the two adults and the pup formed a family.

The little one barked incessantly, while the larger two only growled low in their throats, staring warily at the strangers. “Seems we’ve disturbed their home,” Zhou Qing said quietly. “Come on, Yunxi, let’s go.”

As they withdrew, the three dogs advanced a short distance in pursuit, but soon stopped, content to watch the intruders leave. Zhou Qing and Lin Yunxi continued up the mountain, finally reaching its summit. There, they found the source of the waterfall: among scattered boulders was a two-foot-wide gap, from which a spring burst forth and flowed down the mountain in a silver ribbon.

Around the spring grew a few ancient trees, their roots entwined among stones and tufts of grass poking from the cracks. The mountaintop was otherwise empty and open, with no sign of large beasts, judging by the undisturbed grass. Lin Yunxi knelt by the spring to wash her face, while Zhou Qing stood beneath an old tree, gazing into the distance.

From his vantage, he could see a towering peak in the far distance, half-shrouded in clouds. Though separated by a great expanse, he could sense its majesty. The mountain they stood on was not particularly high—after all, it had only taken them a little over an hour to climb to the top—yet even so, they had not reached the cloudline. That distant peak, however, soared into the mists, its summit lost from sight.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Zhou Qing and Lin Yunxi agreed to spend the night atop this mountain. Though the summit offered little shelter, the absence of animal tracks suggested it was relatively safe.

Once their decision was made, Lin Yunxi crouched by the spring to wash her clothes, then hung them from a tree branch to dry. Zhou Qing, meanwhile, leaned against an ancient tree, quietly watching her. He reflected on how, just days ago, he had met the very woman who had once saved his life, and now, wounded, sat with her atop this wild, desolate peak. In the space of two or three days, fate had spun a web of chance encounters, as if the heavens themselves had arranged this unexpected turn of events.

“Here, eat this,” Lin Yunxi said, returning to his side and placing a small pill by his lips.

Without question, Zhou Qing swallowed it. The pill was sweet, unlike the bitter medicines he was used to. “Yunxi, what kind of medicine is this? It’s rather tasty.”

“It’s called a Fasting Pill. One is enough to stave off hunger for a day,” she explained.

“Then it’s a bit wasted on me,” he replied with a smile. As they talked, he revealed that he had already reached the level where he could go without food.

Lin Yunxi was not particularly surprised. Within the White Cloud Sect, few under thirty could reach such a realm, but after spending time with Zhou Qing these past days, she had discovered many things about him that defied expectation. For instance, at the riverbank outside the Wildman Forest, she had seen him standing lightly atop the water—a feat that, among the young cultivators of the White Cloud Sect, only Long Aotian could accomplish. Yet Long Aotian’s water-affinity root had not been obtained through his own cultivation, but had been forcibly bestowed by the Sect Master, his own grandfather, through the latter’s immense power.