“Today the breeze is gentle and the sun is bright; an auspicious day for angling.”
There was only this single, unprompted line on the jade paper, and nothing more.
Wei Yuan turned it over and inspected it for a long while, then looked around. Where was there any sign of Granduncle Master Zhu? Even if he wanted to ask, there was no one around to consult.
If Zhu Yuanjin did not wish to be found, it was impossible for Wei Yuan’s perception to detect him. But by now Wei Yuan had figured it out: this granduncle master clearly belonged to the Traditionalist Faction, fond of zen-like riddles, divulging one part while withholding nine, dropping enigmas everywhere, and leaving disciples to divine the meaning on their own.
Back when Wei Yuan was undergoing centralized instruction, the struggle between the Reform Faction and the Traditionalist Faction had been at its fiercest, with both sides trading sharp barbs every day without the slightest courtesy.
For instance, during one lecture, a teacher had openly declared that there were only concepts poorly understood, never concepts poorly written. If one could produce a clear and fluent essay, they had surely grasped the matter with absolute clarity.
Conversely, all those who spoke in zen riddles, left words unsaid, revealed one part while hiding nine, and extolled antiquity while disparaging the present simply hadn't learned the subject themselves. Terrified that others might see through them, they deliberately made things obscure and difficult so others would have to ponder and divine the meaning on their own. Even if someone did manage to glean an insight, it usually had little to do with whoever wrote it.
Ever since coming to Qingming, Zhang Sheng had largely corrected this sort of bad habit, and Wei Yuan had not dealt with an elder of Zhu Yuanjin’s style in quite some time.
Angling? How to angle, and what to catch?
Wei Yuan knew how to fish, and he was particularly skilled at karmic destiny angling. Now he had the formation array and the bait, but the question remained: what was he fishing for, and what bait should he cast? Wei Yuan had plenty of baits on hand, but if certain baits were cast out, it wouldn't even be fishing anymore—it would practically be angling for heaven and earth itself, serving as a textbook example of courting death for future generations.
Though he deeply despised digging pitfalls and speaking in riddles, Wei Yuan had no choice but to play along for now. He took inventory of the baits at his disposal.
The immortal laurel branch was out of the question. That was originally what the Immortal Monarch had used to angle for the Western Regions, and it hadn't even been alive back then. Now that the immortal branch teemed with vitality, it was more likely to hook an Immortal Monarch in reverse.
The Maiden Yin-Yang? Wei Yuan shuddered, hastily purging that dangerous thought.
The two Celestial Star Nightshades were both mutated, boasting a respectable status of their own. They could be put to use once fully grown, but not yet.
Xu Wenwu? That seemed decent...
After reviewing everything, Wei Yuan found that the most peculiar item—and one extraordinarily rare in this realm—was the Nether Soil he had excavated from the Nether Cold Realm. It was available for exchange in the Palace of Grand Beginning's merit point system, and it carried a remarkably high price tag.
Wei Yuan retrieved the formation plate, materialized a bit of Nether Soil in the center, and infused it with Dao power to activate it. This formation plate had been bestowed by the Immortal Monarch back then. After the Immortal Monarch’s dharmic power was depleted, it had lost its exalted status, but its craftsmanship and materials remained quite exceptional.
The Nether Soil itself possessed high enough status, and Wei Yuan added an advanced azure qi to it. Enhanced like this, it ought to yield some effect.
Having done all this, Wei Yuan had just put away the formation plate when a premonition struck him. Looking up, he saw a dark crimson tinged with black appear in the void, followed by a viscous, damp mist descending toward him.
The moment the red mist appeared, Wei Yuan caught a foul, nauseating stench, reminiscent of rotting food piled atop corpses left out for days, brimming with an aura of decay, collapse, chaos, and madness. In the red mist, dozens of faint human faces emerged. Wei Yuan glanced over and realized they were all soldiers under Song Chao's command—and one of the contorted faces was Song Chao himself.
With a shift of Wei Yuan's thought, horse and rider instantly shifted thirty yards aside. Yet the red mist still appeared directly above his head and continued to fall, as though Wei Yuan had never moved at all.
Wei Yuan's thoughts raced. This decaying mist of black blood seemed innate, as if it naturally belonged with him. The sensation was distinct from the Shaman blood curses—blood curses had an evident tracking mechanism, whether through karma, karmic luck, or mere geography. But this bloody mist bore no lock-on whatsoever; it simply manifested above his head, thoroughly defying reason.
The last time something similar had happened was a bestowal of heaven and earth.
Wei Yuan dodged no longer, allowing the bloody mist to descend upon him. Instantly, his body felt somewhat heavier, and both flesh and nascent soul underwent slight aging. Entering his sea of consciousness, the bloody mist transformed into over a hundred vengeful spirits, flitting about wildly.
What was this? A lingering ghost refusing to depart?
Wei Yuan was not one to let fate push him around, and the Palace of Grand Beginning had no shortage of methods to handle vengeful ghosts and remnant spirits. Just as he searched his memories, preparing to pick a few Dao arts to annihilate wraiths, all the vengeful spirits suddenly seemed to find an objective and flew into the Jade Mountain, plunging into the black pool.
Ripples stirred across the black pool and then settled into calm. All the damage suffered by Wei Yuan's body and nascent soul was completely restored, as though it had never happened.
The shadow within the moon shifted slightly, releasing a strand of advanced black qi that hovered before Wei Yuan.
Obtaining otherworldly fortune once more, Wei Yuan inexplicably found himself unable to rejoice. The last time he had gained otherworldly fortune was by sacrificing the remnant spirit of the Xu family's dharma idol. This time, Song Chao and the others' vengeful spirits had lingered and haunted Wei Yuan, only to be swallowed by the black pool within the Jade Mountain. And the black pool itself had formed from the coalesced remnant spirits of tens of thousands of Shaman warriors.
Now Wei Yuan was certain that the black pool was inextricably linked to the shadow within the moon.
Back at the Palace of Grand Beginning, when studying the Theory of Heaven and Earth and the Theory of Karmic Destiny, the teachers had repeatedly warned that before reaching Scenery Command, one should avoid dabbling in the domain of souls as much as possible, steering clear of soul-binding, reincarnation, and the like. The teachers had spoken with great gravity, yet gave no explanation, saying only: “Once your cultivation realm reaches that level, you will naturally understand.”
Wei Yuan's mood turned somber; he vaguely sensed that he had touched something he shouldn't have.
Yet this was beyond his control, so he could only set it aside for now and return to the domain first.
With this shipment of military grain secured, they could essentially hold out until the new grain ripened. However, Wei Yuan did not plan to stop here; he intended to buy several more batches, and see if he could purchase other supplies along the way. In any case, there was still immortal silver left from Xu Jingfeng's father's secret vault, and stockpiling more grain was always prudent.
This was only their first transaction; Yue Qilin undoubtedly possessed more resources and wouldn't release everything the first time. If Wei Yuan stopped now, their connection would gradually cool. Thus, Wei Yuan planned to conduct business in small batches multiple times; back and forth, their ties would deepen. Such was the essence of sowing troublesome ties far and wide.
Meanwhile, ten thousand li away, several cultivators were trekking through deep mountains and ancient forests. Unusually attired, each carried a wooden chest on their back and held various tools in hand.
As they walked along, they captured insects and flies, gathered herbs and plants, and occasionally sampled soil and stream water.
The leading cultivator suddenly halted and drew a formation plate from his robes. Oddly shaped, it resembled a white jade bowl. Inside sat a finger-sized pitch-black figurine babbling and chattering incessantly while pointing toward the northwest.
The cultivator froze for a moment, then broke into immense joy. “Who would have thought there'd be Nether Soil in the Western Regions, and in no small quantity! Heaven truly favors us!”
Another cultivator remarked, “Where there is Nether Soil, there is bound to be danger. Should we notify senior brothers from the Hall of Heavenly Craft to explore together?”
The leading cultivator waved a broad hand and said, “No need! Today's geomancy is sublime—an auspicious day to feast alone!”
Chapter 220