Enemies

He looked around, but there were no islands nearby where he could take shelter, so he immediately activated his secret talisman. The next instant, the tempest struck. Like a ghost, Qin Sang drifted amidst the howling gale and driving rain. There was no telling when the storm would subside, but braving the wind and rain, Qin Sang pressed forward. Spirit Tortoise Island was situated near a medium-sized island named Bamen Island. There were dozens of smaller islands in the vicinity as well, but all were utterly barren, beneath the notice of high-level cultivators. According to the information Qin Sang had gathered along the way, the factions in this sea area were not particularly strong. The most formidable sect was called the Hanhai Sect, and its sect master was merely a Core Formation stage cultivator. Qin Sang had been rehearsing in his mind how he would meet the Master of Spirit Tortoise Island. Now that he had come all this way, paying a visit to the island was a certainty, regardless of whether the man turned out to be Senior Qingzhu. Even so, Qin Sang would not act rashly. He planned to conceal his cultivation, spend some time mingling in the area surrounding Spirit Tortoise Island, and inquire about the island master's deeds so he could gauge the man's character. Cultivator Wang had only heard about him through rumors; detailed accounts could only be obtained from the inhabitants of the surrounding islands. Having finally found news of Senior Qingzhu, Qin Sang could not help feeling a sense of trepidation. On the whole, however, he was filled with anticipation. Senior Qingzhu was a true sword cultivator, and through his two letters and past actions, glimpses of his noble character were readily apparent. With these thoughts in mind, Qin Sang locked onto the direction of Bamen Island and cut through the wind. The storm grew fiercer, and the surroundings plunged into pitch-black darkness. After flying alone for some distance, Qin Sang suddenly halted, having caught a faint sound. Pricking up his ears, he discerned an unusual noise amidst the chaotic din and abruptly shifted his course. Before long, Qin Sang spotted a wooden ship on the verge of capsizing. Fierce winds churned towering waves, and the rain poured down in sheets. The wooden vessel swayed precariously. It was enveloped in a protective barrier of light formed by a spiritual formation, but for some reason, the barrier was already fractured, flickering erratically and threatening to go out at any moment. Several sections were exposed to the tempest, looking utterly fragile and severely damaged. By now, the hull was listing heavily, on the brink of overturning. Thanks to his sharp vision, Qin Sang spotted survivors on board. After a brief pause to consider, he flew straight toward the ship. As he drew closer, he could see them clearly. Several figures were scurrying across the deck in panic, like headless flies. They were not mortals, yet their cultivation was modest—only at the Qi Refinement stage. These people clearly wanted to repair the spiritual formation but had no idea where to start. Some had broken down entirely, letting out wails of despair. Without the protection of the large ship and the spiritual formation, it was virtually impossible for Qi Refinement cultivators to survive such a storm. "Quick! Shove all the spirit stones in! Third Junior Brother, go to the cabin and see if Master is awake!" One of the young men in white forced down his panic and scrambled frantically to repair the formation. But with his limited cultivation, every method he tried proved useless. Boom! A massive wave tens of feet high crashed down with brutal force. The barrier dimmed considerably once more. While the hull had not been shattered, it was not far from it, creaking and groaning in protest at every seam. Just as everyone sank into despair, an unfamiliar figure suddenly appeared on the deck. They thought their eyes were playing tricks on them. Straining their gaze, they found a youth who looked even younger than they were, yet his bearing was far more composed, and his aura was not the least bit weaker than their master's. "Who are you people? Are you the only ones on board?" Qin Sang asked, frowning as his eyes swept over the deck. His own appearance seemed slightly disheveled, but only because he had disguised himself as a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Seeing Qin Sang, the young man in white felt a brief flash of joy. But remembering that his master was severely injured and unconscious, he feared this newcomer might harbor ill intent. His relief was tempered with dread, yet he dared not utter any falsehoods. Besides, dying at the hands of the person before him would be no different from perishing in the storm. Showing a measure of composure, he shouted, "Senior! We are disciples of the Sanshan Sect, out at sea with our master! When the storm struck, our ship was suddenly attacked by sea beasts, damaging the spiritual formation. Master fought them off, but he was gravely injured and fell unconscious! I beg you, Senior, please save our lives!" Qin Sang swept his spiritual sense across the vessel and immediately detected a heavily wounded Foundation Establishment cultivator in the cabin—a middle-aged man. In a flash, Qin Sang slipped inside. Startled, the young man in white and the others rushed in behind him. They saw Qin Sang grasping their master's arm, apparently examining his injuries. None of them dared make a sound. The man's injuries were severe, his five internal organs battered. Qin Sang retrieved a healing pill and slipped it into his mouth. The spirit medicine took effect the moment it entered, and the man slowly regained consciousness, though he remained terribly weak. The young man in white and his fellow disciples were overjoyed. "Thank you, Fellow Daoist, for saving my life…" Startled at the sight of the unfamiliar Qin Sang, the man listened as his disciples recounted what had happened, then struggled to prop himself up to offer his thanks. Qin Sang raised a hand to stop him. "Your injuries are too severe, Fellow Daoist. You must rest quietly for some time to recover. The wind and waves outside are treacherous, and the ship is on the verge of capsizing. I happen to be heading for Bamen Island and was caught in this storm, so I would like to take shelter aboard your ship as well. Please share the critical workings of your spiritual formation so I can repair it." Shortly afterward, Qin Sang returned to the deck, took out some spiritual materials, and easily restored the formation. The barrier of light sprang back to life, holding the tempest at bay. With the ship spared from further battering, it was pulled back from the brink of overturning. Having escaped death, the young man in white and the others followed Qin Sang's every instruction, bustling about to patch up the damaged hull. Once the wooden ship stabilized, Qin Sang ordered the others to steer the vessel, then returned to the cabin to speak with their master. "My surname is Wu. Originally, I was a rogue cultivator, but I took on a few unworthy disciples and called ourselves the Sanshan Sect. We have been cultivating on a small island near Bamen Island. This time, we ventured out on an errand, only to be struck by one calamity after another. We nearly lost our lives here. It is all thanks to your timely arrival, Fellow Daoist Qin, that we survived…" With his complexion looking somewhat better, Sect Master Wu asked curiously, "Do you cultivate near Bamen Island, Fellow Daoist? I don't believe we have ever crossed paths before." Qin Sang shook his head. "I am not from Bamen Island. I am a rogue cultivator who has been traveling far and wide. I once sought entry into various great clans and prominent sects, but due to my modest talent, none would accept me. By chance, I heard a rumor that a senior near Bamen Island had established a place of cultivation to lecture on the Dao and guide rogue cultivators. That is why I came to seek tutelage." "You came looking for the Master of Spirit Tortoise Island?" Sect Master Wu cried out, a strange look flashing in his eyes. Noticing his odd expression, Qin Sang felt his heart tighten. "Why? Could the rumors be false?" Sect Master Wu shook his head. "The rumors are true. To tell you the truth, Fellow Daoist Qin, I was once a rogue cultivator from abroad myself. Hearing that the island master had set up an altar to lecture on the Dao, I was drawn here. I received his guidance and benefited immensely. Later, blessed with a fortuitous encounter, I managed to successfully reach Foundation Establishment. It is just that… you have arrived too late, Fellow Daoist." Qin Sang's brow furrowed deeply. "Has that senior already departed?" "He did not leave," Sect Master Wu said with a heavy sigh, a look of deep-seated hatred rising in his eyes as he ground his teeth. "His enemies came looking for him! That senior had lived in seclusion here for two hundred years, yet his enemies still would not let him go! They tracked him down, razed Spirit Tortoise Island to the ground, and now no one knows whether he is dead or alive!"