The Remnant Range of Feixian Mountain

Chenyuan—that was the official name of this territory. It lay beyond the radiant reach of Yujing, bordering only its outermost fringe. Certain lines of thought were shared among higher beings. Ever since the sun disappeared, the locals believed their homeland had plunged into an abyss, and hence it came to bear this name. The Feixian Mountain remnant range was situated in the central region of Chenyuan. Now, as outsiders arrived in a continuous stream, its fame had skyrocketed. Chenyuan was vast and sparsely populated. Its populace was concentrated mainly in the north adjacent to Yujing and in the central area. As for the south, it abutted the boundless, endless world of night mist. Across immense Chenyuan, there were over a dozen major powers. Their ostensible sect masters, chiefs, and patriarchs were all grandmasters, yet right now, every one of them was in closed-door cultivation, not daring to emerge. For they had all been severely injured by the drastic upheaval of heaven and earth. "Far from the Supreme Realm, grandmasters can actually be considered top-tier forces with considerable prestige," Qin Ming murmured with a look of surprise. Having just arrived in Chenyuan's central region—the Feixian Mountain remnant range—he had already integrated well into the local environment and gathered plenty of information. Provided, of course, that one had day gold in hand. Day gold was hard currency wherever one went. Legend had it that if one possessed a sufficient amount, a deeply mysterious, divine substance could be extracted from it. Its preciousness was not inferior to that of exotic metal. "Honored guest, you're mistaken. Grandmasters are definitely not the ultimate beings of Chenyuan. Head all the way south into the depths of the night mist world, and those regions are completely beyond imagination." For the sake of the day gold, the innkeeper personally and warmly cleared Qin Ming's doubts. "Occasionally, mysterious beings pass through. The howling hurricanes they whip up have blown away the gate towers of major southern towns. That is precisely why the population gathers toward the center and the north." The waiter chimed in from the side, "Indeed. Legendary species occasionally emerge from the southern reaches of Chenyuan as well. Take the white roc, for instance—pure white all over, capable of swallowing over a thousand people in a single gulp." The innkeeper added, "There are also godkin creatures driven mad that fled from the depths of the night mist world. Some are colossal, like sun discs traversing the sky, radiating terrifying beams of light that can drive the entire population of a city insane..." The waiter said, "It's considered somewhat better now. Over the past year, the broader environment of heaven and earth seems to have undergone changes, so those terrifying creatures haven't been showing up much." Qin Ming naturally knew the reason: nowadays, even cultivators in the third and fourth realms were feeling the impact. He did not understand the local tongue, but could converse smoothly with the two men, communicating primarily through his mental realm. He was not worried about drawing attention as an outsider, either, because there were simply too many adventurers outside the Feixian Mountain remnant range. Let alone a normal human like him, even a talking donkey could check into an inn without raising eyebrows. Outside the remnant range, taverns and inns were scattered like stars across the board. There were no walled cities, only a few larger stone keeps and fortresses. Looking out from the inn, Qin Ming saw a large, silver-furred rat walking upright, stroking its mustache with one paw while draping the other around a woman in a black dress who walked with a feline strut. He was astonished. Was that a silver rat paired with a black cat? The woman in the black dress possessed a pair of cat ears. He deeply realized that this place was truly "tolerant"—natural adversaries could actually end up together. "That is a black tiger woman," the innkeeper secretly informed him, noticing his expression. It wasn't even a cat—a rat paired with a tiger? An upgrade? Qin Ming's expression grew peculiar. Only after watching the silver rat stroll away with its arm around the tigress did the innkeeper dare speak up: "You mustn't look down on him. That mole rat is a master!" He tactfully indicated that in the land of Chenyuan, as long as one was powerful enough, it was not unusual for a master-level old toad to take the legitimate daughter of a fallen noble clan as his bride. Qin Ming remained calm. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard of similar things before. The immortal path grandmaster Ling Canghai had taken an immortal seed as his wife—the crux being that when he was one hundred and ninety years old, his father-in-law had only just been born. "Innkeeper, reserve a courtyard! It must have spiritual flowers and exotic herbs," a palm-sized humanoid being flew in first, bearing a pair of golden butterfly wings on its back. "Right away!" The innkeeper was a cultivator himself and had long ceased to find such sights strange. Soon, over a dozen golden butterflies fluttered over gracefully and checked into the inn. Afterward, thanks to the day gold, the innkeeper patiently answered Qin Ming's questions in detail and even provided him with a rough map of the Feixian Mountain remnant range. "Many regions aren't detailed on the terrain map because they are simply too perilous. Especially the core area—though it holds plenty of treasures, batch after batch of people have ventured inside, all meeting gruesome ends." Whatever concerns an outsider might harbor could find answers here. Primarily, so many people had come that the locals had developed polished expertise in their trade, and even many high-end inns and taverns had sprung up to meet the demand. Qin Ming discovered that his concerns were hardly issues at all. There were established exploration parties here dedicated to showing newcomers the ropes of Feixian Mountain and providing protection. Of course, joining required paying a hefty fee. Moreover, even when accompanying an expedition for the first time, newcomers were obliged to do their part; if a crisis arose, they had to pull together and fight alongside the team. If any gains were made, the newcomers would receive a smaller share of the fortunes. Some expedition teams didn't even set out to explore; they existed purely to guide newcomers on tours through Feixian Mountain to help them rapidly familiarize themselves with the various treacherous spots. The innkeeper cautioned, "The more renowned teams either have backing from major local powers or are influenced by formidable foreign civilizations from outside the domain." According to him, guiding newcomers was merely something those major organizations did along the way. While they provided protection, their real purpose was to recruit peripheral members to scout paths and map out more terrain. Gathering information from multiple sources, Qin Ming quickly shortlisted several reputable teams whose casualty rates were notably low. He set out that very day to make contact, eager to enter the mountain sooner. Outside the Feixian Mountain remnant range stood a stone keep draped in winding vines that bore clusters of delicate purple blossoms. A refreshing fragrance drifted in the night breeze; the surroundings were quite pleasant. Qin Ming noted that the cultivators gathering here were mostly of the older generation, with few young people in sight. This exploration team bore a grandiose name: Godkin. "What realm are you in?" someone behind a desk in front of the stone fortress asked, handling registrations. "Third Realm..." Qin Ming had only just begun to speak, before specifying his exact tier—mid or late—when the other person cut him off. "Apologies, but the route our Godkin organization takes is far too dangerous and probably isn't suitable for you. Go find another team." Qin Ming hadn't expected that simply registering to join an expedition team would have such prerequisites. He did not press the matter. It was mostly because he had concealed his true strength; in an unfamiliar environment, how could he possibly lay all his cards on the table? Joining a lower-tier team was fine anyway—it would be safer, and his main goal for this first foray was merely to familiarize himself with the general lay of the land. The registrar waved a dismissive hand, telling him to try next door, saying it would be more suitable for him. "Hurry along, don't block the way." The man was rather impatient. Their group catered to the high-end market and looked down on third-realm explorers. High atop the stone fortress, a young man and woman looked down. They were key figures in the Godkin organization and rarely showed themselves here under normal circumstances. The young man possessed fiery red hair, crimson haze flowing within his eyes, and blood-colored patterns seemed to cling to the surface of his skin. The woman was dressed in snow-white attire with silver hair, strikingly beautiful, exuding an ethereal, serene grace. This organization possessed an extraordinary background, hailing from the deeper regions of the night mist world. The red-haired man remarked, "I get the feeling that youth just now wasn't simple. Calm, with clear eyes, and under these worldly conditions, not a trace of disorder showed in his Daoist rhymes. Perhaps we should call him back and take him into our core team." The woman glanced over and said, "There is no spiritual light piercing from his crown. Even if he's somewhat decent, it amounts to little." A crescent moon lit up between her brows as she watched Qin Ming's retreating back. Frowning slightly, she noted, "Mhm, the spirituality held within him seems rather unusual. Still, there is no need to call him back." "Moon God, don't let your eyes deceive you," the red-haired man said. "Then probe him with your Blood God Mist and see for yourself," the woman with the crescent moon mark retorted with a glance. A faint blood mist steamed from the red-haired man's body, rippling with twilight-like radiance as it spread outward without a sound. Soon, he shook his head. "Though he is indeed uncommon, he truly hasn't reached the level where we need to speak up and invite him back." Nowadays, older figures of higher cultivation realms did not dare move about at will, so young powerhouses like them served as the core members of the local Godkin organization. Moreover, their titles were unique: the white-robed woman was the "Moon God," while the red-haired youth was the "Blood God." Both actually carried the monikers of deities. Employing Harmonize with Light and Dust, Qin Ming blended into the surrounding environment, making himself easy to overlook. In an unfamiliar land, he had no desire to draw attention. Yet his keen spiritual perception was anything but ordinary; he had already noticed the Moon God and Blood God probing him from atop the fortress, sensing that they were extraordinary individuals. "Indeed, no one who dares venture from outer domains to explore this place is ordinary," he reminded himself. He could not afford carelessness here; one might well bump into holy disciples from top civilizations at any turn. ... Next door was another stone fortress. The name of this expedition organization was Shenxing. One could say the core ethos of the team was entirely encapsulated in its name—concise and direct, never treading into perilous grounds, with safety as the foremost priority. Their mortality rate was exceedingly low; across countless outings, accidents rarely ever occurred, and most trips saw the entire team return safe and sound. Qin Ming briskly paid his day gold to join them, agreeing to enter the mountains once shallow night fell the following day. An excursion lasted anywhere between five to ten days, roughly enough to tour the major areas of the Feixian Mountain remnant range. Of course, this team truly only passed by to look around, rather than venturing deep to take risks. An elderly man of the Shenxing organization said, "Please wear this bronze mask properly. Anything can happen once you enter the mountain. For example, if you inadvertently offend someone, keeping your true face hidden prevents retribution later on. Consider it a layer of protection." It would be this very elder leading the team into the mountain tomorrow. Qin Ming readily complied. In truth, he had already prepared for such precautions without needing anyone's reminder. The leading elder smiled. "We don't call one another by name here; we use Numbers One through Fifteen. You signed up rather late, and only Number Fourteen was left unpicked. For now, you are Number Fourteen." Qin Ming nodded. It mattered little to him. Be it Number Fourteen or Number Four, what difference did it make? Then, the elderly leader informed him that he himself was Number Four. "All right," Qin Ming said, taking his leave. ... In the same region, Bai Meng was talking with Tang Yushang. "Sis, I really feel like that silhouette looked like Brother Qin Ming." Evidently, though the influence Qin Ming had exerted on him back in the earthen city had faded, some lingering aftereffects remained, and he habitually called Qin Ming his brother. In truth, he felt he had also been at fault during the clash at the Great Thunder Sound Temple. Later in the earthen city, even though part of his conscious spiritual light had been clouded, his interactions with Qin Ming had genuinely left him feeling that the man was decent, so his resentment had largely dissipated. He had even urged Tang Yushang to turn the page, reasoning that it was hardly some blood feud. "Are you still not cured from his brainwashing?" Tang Yushang remarked in annoyance. Dressed in brilliant red, she possessed the rare grace needed to carry off such a vivid gown, which would make ordinary people look gaudy. With hair falling like a dark waterfall, an immaculate jade-white face, dazzling eyes, and exquisitely curved contours, she in her crimson robes truly reigned supreme in radiant beauty. Bai Meng said, "Better to untie a knot than keep grudges tied. That good bro of mine isn't a bad person. Honestly, I took a far worse beating from him back then. Sis, didn't you just take one kick? At worst, next time you meet, you can playfully kick his butt right back, and you're even!" He didn't realize in the slightest that his uncouth words caused the peerless face of Big Tang to turn colors. To Tang Yushang, what kind of feral nonsense was that? The last thing she ever wanted mentioned was the old incident of having her backside kicked. "Sis, be magnanimous!" Bai Meng still hadn't noticed the dangerous look directed his way. "I think the demon he planted in your heart still hasn't worn off." Big Tang made her move, suppressing him instantly before proceeding to literally bring her feet down onto her brother. Baring his teeth in pain, Bai Meng was still trying to mediate: "Sis, are you still brooding over your only defeat? It was just a narrow loss by a single kick! I know, it was mainly because you mimicked my mental field to enter the Great Thunder Sound Temple and couldn't unleash your true capabilities... Really, none of this is a big deal." "Shut up!" Tang Yushang put her utmost sisterly effort into it, instantly making Bai Meng howl in agony. The next day, after shallow night fell, Qin Ming set out with the Shenxing expedition. Glancing back inadvertently, he saw another expedition team in the distance and suddenly felt a sense of familiarity from two figures within it. *Could it be? Meeting acquaintances even after coming to a place this far away?* he wondered. Their faces did not match anyone he knew, yet he felt a distinct, intuitive impression. In truth, Taixu, where Tang Yushang was from, was not far from Chenyuan; one only needed to pass through three Mist Gates to arrive. In the distant past, Taixu had been the terrestrial confluence of Yujing, possessing immense pedigree, which was why higher beings there considered themselves members of the Sacred Race. Every day, many expedition teams ventured into the mountains. As Number Fourteen in his group, Qin Ming formally set foot into the remnant range and found himself deeply astonished by the land. After merely half a day in the mountains, he had witnessed all manner of bizarre sights. In a blood-red mire, for instance, lights of ascending immortals surged from time to time, captivating the eye. Some asserted that many powerhouses had perished below, likely leaving behind Earth Immortal–level ruins or perhaps even a Palace of Heavenly Gods. Number Four, the elderly team leader, warned solemnly, "Everyone, looking is enough. It's true that people have unearthed good things here, but far more have ventured deep into the mire only to vanish forever. Even masters couldn't break free and were swallowed whole by the bloody mud." On their third day in the mountain, Number Four led them into an area of undulating peaks where immortal mist coiled and auspicious haze steamed periodically, painting a truly sacred scene. "An immortal palace!" Most members of the team were novices and gasped in amazement. Deep within the mountain range, palace halls loomed indistinctly, cloaked in mystery. "Just look and do no more," Number Four said responsibly, warning everyone with earnest care that they could only observe from afar and must not set foot inside. They had been quietly observing for only a brief moment when a piercing shriek rang out. A formidable flood dragon with golden spiritual wings on its back flew silently toward the immortal palaces, only to be ambushed along the way. It was a swarm of exotic insects, boiling like a crimson shower of light. In the blink of an eye, they devoured that near-master flood dragon down to nothing, leaving not even a skeleton behind; only a few blood-stained scales tumbled into the night sky. "Scarlet God insects! Exotic insects ranked in the top twenty under heaven! There's actually an entire nest here... terrifying!" Many went pale on the spot. At the same time, their goodwill toward Number Four surged. Fortunately, they had such a responsible leader; otherwise, had they blindly stumbled into that place, they wouldn't even know how they died. The elderly leader said, "There are indeed many good things in the remnant range, but far more perils. Our premise is survival. Let's move on to observe the next location." "Isn't there any relatively safe area with fewer dangers?" someone asked. Number Four pondered for a moment. "Well, there are, but whether you can obtain good fortune depends entirely on luck. Since you brought it up, let's head to the next site and try our luck." Ahead lay a pitch-black mountain range from which astral winds continually howled. Under the elder's guidance, however, there was a specific mountain path to take, skirting the black storms as they wound their way forward. Number Four explained, "Sometimes, the astral winds blow good things out of the mountains—fallen petals of exotic herbs, leaves of divine trees, or even fragmentary pages of bronze scriptures. Presumably, the depths hold extraordinary grounds. We'll wait in a safe area and try our luck." Suddenly, without warning, the bodies of several members of the team burst apart in a shower of blood. Even their bones and conscious fragments were blown to smithereens, their forms and spirits entirely destroyed. Qin Ming was horrified. Instead of retreating, he dashed straight forward, for the peril was spreading from the rear toward them! "You only send in blood food once every ten trips into the mountains. Aren't you being far too cautious?" A muffled voice resounded from within the astral wind. "The casualty rate can't be too high," Number Four replied with a faint smile. The blood sacrifice was complete this time, and the other party would soon open a safe path for him. "You..." One person was not yet dead, their severed upper body struggling in violent rage, pointing an accusatory finger at the elderly leader. Number Four smiled gently. "Don't blame me. You can only blame your poor luck for falling into this batch. Today was the day for a blood sacrifice." Deep in the mountains, Qin Ming saw from afar a fan gently swaying atop a mountain crag; every gust of astral wind was generated by it. "How could this be..." The weapon spirit of the Eight Trigrams Furnace was stirred, murmuring in disbelief. "Have you sensed Qingyue, Jiang Ran, and the others?" Qin Ming asked. "Yes, behind this mountain range where the astral winds erupt," the weapon spirit replied, its gaze fixed squarely on the colossal mountain where the fan rested. "Have you seen it before?" Qin Ming asked in surprise, staring closely at the severely damaged fan. To be precise, it had rotted on its own, its very essence degraded. "A fan from Bajing Palace has actually fallen here," the weapon spirit said solemnly. Qin Ming showed a look of shock. That had to be an extraordinary treasure, yet its material had actually... decayed. The astral winds howling through the mountain were chilling. Sensing an opportunity, Qin Ming immediately circulated the Wind-Riding Scripture. In an instant, two divine beams erupted from his eyes, and he sat down cross-legged on the spot, focusing his mind to capture a certain mysterious vibration.