81: Chapter 81 Qingfu

The temple doors silently opened inward, and an aged yet robust voice drifted out from within: "Old Wang Tou, you aren't enjoying the blessings of your descendants in Lotus Pier, what are you doing running off to this impoverished backwater of mine?"

Wang Chongyang wasn't angered upon hearing this, stepping across the threshold with a chuckle: "I'm close to death, so I came to see an old buddy before I die."

As the voice fell, the leaves of the old locust tree in the courtyard suddenly stopped moving.

It wasn't that the wind had stopped; rather, it was as if the wind had been pinned down by some force, hanging motionless mid-air.

An old Daoist priest dressed in dark cyan Daoist robes flashed out from the inner hall. His beard and hair were a mixture of gray and white, his face was lean, and his aura was as deep and abyssal as a pool.

He circled Wang Chongyang twice, the expression on his face changing from astonishment to solemnity, and then from solemnity to sorrowful exasperation.

"Terrible, terrible, terrible! You old fellow, are you really about to die? You wouldn't come if you weren't dying, right?"

"Well, aren't I here now." Wang Chongyang maintained that same chuckling expression.

Master Qingfu let out a heavy snort, his gaze lingering for a moment on Wang Chongyang's washed-out, faded gray cloth Daoist robe, and his tone suddenly softened a bit.

"You're still wearing the Daoist robe from when we traveled together back then. After so many years, you still haven't changed into a new one."

He flicked his sleeve and turned to walk toward the inner hall, the sorrowful exasperation in his voice not yet fully dissipated: "Spit it out, what do you need my help with?"

The furnishings in the inner hall were extremely minimalist; a few old futons were casually placed on the green brick floor, a yellowed landscape painting hung on the wall, and a bronze incense burner sat on the desk, with wisps of blue smoke curling from the burner.

Master Qingfu casually picked a futon, sat down cross-legged, and pointed to the opposite side.

Wang Chongyang slowly walked over and also picked a futon, his movements more than a beat slower than Qingfu's.

After sitting down, he tidied his robe hems and looked up at his old friend opposite him, a rare, sincere smile floating onto his aged face.

Master Qingfu didn't look at him, instead pulling a pottery pot and two coarse porcelain cups from his sleeve on his own accord. Tilting the spout, he poured two cups of clear tea.

With a gentle flick of his fingertips, two extremely faint flames circled the bottom of the cups, and the cold tea began to steam.

He pushed one of the cups in front of Wang Chongyang, picked up the other cup himself, took a sip, and said with drooping eyelids: "Speak. Having known you for a century, whenever you, Wang Chongyang, visit my door, you've never once left empty-handed."

Wang Chongyang picked up the tea cup, but didn't drink. Instead, he cupped the cup in his palms to warm his hands.

After a good moment of silence, he slowly spoke: "The younger generation of my Family discovered a subterranean fire vein in the mountains."

Master Qingfu's action of sipping tea paused slightly, and he raised his eyelids to glance at him.

"The quality is not bad, and the fire Qi is pure enough to draw out subterranean fire for Artifact Refining," Wang Chongyang continued. "It's just that coiled inside that vein is an adult Ridge-backed Fire-scaled Python."

Master Qingfu put down his tea cup, stared at Wang Chongyang for a good long while, and suddenly scoffed: "I was wondering why you suddenly remembered to come see me. You want to slay a Yao Beast?"

"I want to slay it." Wang Chongyang nodded.

"You can't handle it yourself?"

"I can handle it," Wang Chongyang slowly took a sip of tea. "However, this old man's Lifespan is coming to an end. If I fight that Yao Beast head-on, it will inevitably create a big commotion and attract trouble. Therefore, this matter requires a helper—a trustworthy helper whose cultivation is sufficient."

Master Qingfu was silent for a moment, then said indifferently: "So you thought of this old undead bastard like me."

"Your cultivation is only higher than mine, not lower, and you haven't died after living for over a hundred years. If I don't look for you, who do I look for?" Wang Chongyang put down his tea cup, raised his eyes to look straight at his old friend, and his tone became somewhat more solemn.

"Consider it helping an old friend with one last favor. You and I have interacted for so many years, and this old man has never made a request of you before. This is the first time."

"And presumably the last time."

Master Qingfu lowered his head, his fingers slowly circling the rim of the tea cup, and he didn't speak for a long while.

In the inner hall, only the faint sound of the blue smoke curling and rising from the bronze incense burner remained.

After a long time, he let out a muffled retort: "You old fellow, you never open your mouth your whole life, but the moment you do, it's to make me go risk my life with you. I advised you long ago to let go of those worldly matters and concentrate on cultivation. How could you have stopped at the Early Stage Foundation Establishment, and how could your Lifespan have been exhausted after only a hundred and sixty years?"

Wang Chongyang remained silent in response, which angered Master Qingfu enough to drain the tea in his cup in one gulp and slam the cup heavily onto the desk.

"I knew I was playing a lute to a cow."

"When?"

"Ten days from now. This old man still needs to make some preparations."

Master Qingfu nodded and didn't ask for details, simply pulling another teapot from his sleeve, replacing it with fresh tea, and pouring two new cups.

After finishing this, he raised his head, looked at Wang Chongyang's face, which was marked with wrinkles as deep as knife cuts, and suddenly asked: "Old Wang Tou, do you have any regrets in this lifetime?"

Wang Chongyang picked up the freshly poured hot tea and took a slow sip.

Outside the window, the leaves of the old locust tree began to sway again. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window lattice and fell upon his aged face, illuminating those wrinkles to appear a few shades deeper.

"Regrets, huh." He cupped the tea cup in his palms, a very faint smile emerging at the corners of his mouth as his gaze pierced through the window lattice to look at the patch of tree shadows outside ruffled by the mountain wind.

"My regret is not being able to live a few more years, so I could watch the young men of my Family achieve Foundation Establishment, and watch the next generation of my Family grow up."

He paused, withdrew his gaze to look at his old friend: "However, it's been worth it. In this old man's lifetime, I have practiced the Dao, killed people, protected the Family, and in the end can still pave the way for future generations. I've got no complaints."

Master Qingfu gazed at him, remaining silent for a long time before simply picking up his tea cup and lightly clinking it against Wang Chongyang's.

The sound of the two coarse porcelain cups colliding appeared exceptionally crisp in the quiet inner hall.

At the border between Wanshan County and Funiu County.

Wang Shouren and Wang Qingcheng traveled through the wind. Wang Shouren was already at the ninth layer of Qi Refining, so flying through the air was a piece of cake for him.

Naturally, Wang Qingcheng wouldn't actually ride Xiaotian to run such a long distance; otherwise, Xiaotian would inevitably be exhausted to death halfway there.

Stepping on her small Flying Sword, Wang Qingcheng flew crookedly, several times almost crashing into her own eldest brother.

She was guided by Wang Shouren to slowly adapt to the speed of flight.

In the distance, the outline of a large village had already risen from the horizon.

"Big Brother, do you think if we bring back someone with a Single Spiritual Root this time, we'll have made a massive contribution?"

Wang Shouren shook his head with a bitter smile: "It would already be not bad to have someone with a Five Spiritual Root; the high probability is returning empty-handed."

Wang Qingcheng didn't believe it: "No way, the children born to the Family in the past two years all number a few, and at least a third of them have Spiritual Roots."

"Besides, the towns below aren't small either; how could dozens of children not be born every year? Having not come here for so many years, there definitely must be many who meet the appropriate age. How could there not even be a single one with a Spiritual Root?"

"That's because when cultivators mate with cultivators, the probability of giving birth to children with Spiritual Root Aptitude is much greater."

Wang Shouren slowed his flight speed to let his younger sister keep up with him:

"Mortals couples lack Spiritual Root nourishment within their bodies. Wanting to give birth to a child with a Spiritual Root—to say it's one in a thousand is already an overstatement; out of a thousand people, one might not even appear."

Wang Qingcheng's little face immediately collapsed: "Ah, so that's how it is. Then what's the point of going to all this trouble to run such a long distance and still take the risk of getting close to the Yan Family's territory?"

"Precisely because the chance of a Spiritual Root being born among Mortals is too low, even fewer Cultivator Families are willing to go test them."

Wang Shouren gazed down at the village below with curls of cooking smoke rising, his voice steady:

"How many people among Loose Cultivators have never even stepped onto a Spiritual Testing Platform in their entire lives? Born amidst a heap of Mortals, farming for a lifetime, hunting for a lifetime, and dying without ever knowing that they were only separated from the Dao of Immortality by a single layer of window paper."

"If you go find these people and give them a chance, they will only recognize the Family for the rest of their lives."

"This sense of belonging is something that those Guest Elders and retainers who defected from other families can never compare to."