As He Lingchuan walked along, he noticed that the more densely wooded a mountain slope was, the more coveted a prize it was, already staked out by others. Thick canopies of leaves and branches could catch more Emperor's Flowing Dew, giving practitioners the time and opportunity to harvest it.
If the dew fell directly onto water or mud, it seeped right in, impossible for anyone to dig back up.
Thus, the spot he occupied now was one that even the wild rabble of woodland demons couldn't be bothered to claim.
He had set a goal for this excursion outside the city:
Keep a low profile.
Keep a low profile and gather as much Emperor's Flowing Dew as possible.
Now, he climbed the tallest tree in the vicinity, standing on its highest branch to look down from above.
"This spot is just right."
This metasequoia was twenty-two zhang tall, a whole head higher than the low hill behind it. Standing on its highest branch, He Lingchuan could look down across the entire small lake.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a suitable mountain breeze.
Before long, the hem of his robes began to flutter.
The wind was blowing in the right direction.
He Lingchuan took two eyeball spiders from inside his shirt, reared back, and flung them high to the north and northeast.
"Go on."
The two little critters were practically weightless and were instantly swept away by the wind. Yet behind them trailed two strands of spider silk, anchored to the sturdy tree fork behind He Lingchuan. Zhu Erniang's silk was as fine as human hair, but tougher than tempered steel.
He Lingchuan was in no rush. He sat down and waited where he was.
About a quarter of an hour later, one of the strands twitched.
This tremor was entirely different from the shudder caused by the wind. Having spent considerable time around the eyeball spiders, He Lingchuan had picked up a thing or two; he knew this meant one of them had reached its destination and plucked the silk to signal him.
Soon after, the other strand twitched as well.
This step had gone surprisingly smoothly. Both eyeball spiders had accomplished their task:
Carried by the wind, they had drifted across the lake and reached the tall trees on the opposite shore. After adjusting their positions, they securely anchored their silk.
Next, He Lingchuan retrieved them and repeated the process in several other directions.
About two hours later, the base framework of a colossal spiderweb was finished, strung loosely across four mu of open water in a wide, coarse grid.
That was as far as the eyeball spiders could go; their bodies were too small to produce any more silk.
So, He Lingchuan retrieved the rosy cloud brocade Zhu Erniang had gifted him from his storage ring, unfurled the bolts, and spread them over the prepared framework.
Back then, he had extorted ten bolts of cloud brocade from Zhu Erniang, never expecting they would come in handy so soon.
Ordinary cotton or linen had at most one or two layers, but Zhu Erniang's rosy cloud brocade was different. That ancient great demon had always been generous with her work; every bolt consisted of at least seven layered plies, and if she was in a good mood, perhaps as many as ten.
After He Lingchuan finished refining the supplementary medicines at the inn, he had hired more than a dozen seamstresses on short notice to help him unravel the brocade, separating all the layered cloth into single sheets and stitching them back together into larger panels. Pressed for time, he hadn't cared about how pretty the needlework looked, so long as it was sturdy.
If Zhu Erniang had seen the fruits of her painstaking labor treated so roughly, she might have flown into a murderous rage on the spot.
Even so, unspooling and stitching ten bolts of cloud brocade wasn't enough to cover the entire lake, blanketing only the greater part of the center.
Still, He Lingchuan was already well satisfied.
Above Three Hearts Lake, such a colossal spiderweb was suspended for the very first time.
He leaped onto the freshly laid web of cloud brocade and made his way to the center to take his stance. The entire net sagged naturally in a gentle curve, with its lowest point right where he stood.
The heart-protecting mirror had been watching his actions all along. At this moment, it let out a "Whoa!"
"You rascal, you're really aiming big, aren't you?"
It had figured out what He Lingchuan was trying to do.
After all that frantic work, the two eyeball spiders were utterly exhausted, sprawling on the net to suck on a freshly caught pheasant as a snack.
He Lingchuan leaned back, half-sitting and half-reclining as though lounging in a gigantic hammock, looking thoroughly comfortable.
Yet his hands weren't idle. He pulled out bundle after bundle of bamboo chopsticks and whittled their tips sharp with a small knife.
He had bought these for a few copper coins from two eateries next to the inn; the shopkeepers had never imagined anyone would want these secondhand, worn utensils.
By the time He Lingchuan finished sharpening all the chopsticks, ten thousand rays of rosy twilight stretched across the western sky.
Reclining on the net suspended over the lake, he admired the sunset while enjoying his dinner.
Right next to the inn where the Shimen caravan stayed was a thirty-year-old braised and smoked meat shop. Its signature dish was the smoked braised trotter he held in his hand right now. Tearing away the dark outer skin revealed snow-white meat beneath—rich without being greasy, tender yet crisp with bite, its savory smoky aroma balanced to perfection, with a remarkably satisfying chew.
For his staples, he had two large bowls of brown sugar rice cakes, washed down with half a jug of sweet-and-sour green plum wine.
Having eaten his fill, He Lingchuan patted his belly and stretched lazily.
He would have to stay on high alert through the night, so he needed a full stomach.
Seeing dusk settle in, he said to the heart-protecting mirror, "Lend me your evil spirits."
"Sure thing." What right did it have to refuse?
He Lingchuan tilted the mirror, and three plumes of black smoke darted out from its surface, shooting toward the nearby woods.
After the sun sank beneath the horizon, three dark silhouettes bounded out from the woods, leaping along the spider silk onto the net.
These were three blue-faced macaques with greasy coats. Standing upright, they were nearly as tall as an adult human; the mountain folk also called them shanxiao.
He Lingchuan didn't get up to stop them. He could clearly see that the three evil spirits released by the soul-snatching mirror were possessing these shanxiao.
He tossed over his leftover food along with the pig bones.
The shanxiao caught them and crunched away happily.
With them standing guard, He Lingchuan rested his head on his hands and closed his eyes to conserve his energy.
The spiderweb was light, gently swaying in the night breeze like a cradle, and he soon drifted into a light slumber.
Time slipped by. The mountain lake under the night sky was bathed in bright moonlight. Woodland birds occasionally chattered and squabbled, but soon settled into silence.
The wind rose, only to subside once more.
After who knew how long, an abrupt stillness settled over the wilderness, like the calm before a storm.
Inwardly alerted, He Lingchuan opened his eyes and sat up.
It was here.
Rain began to fall from the sky—first a few scattered drops, then thickening into a steady drizzle.
He Lingchuan held out his hand, and a drop landed squarely in his palm: pale cyan, slightly viscous, bearing an exotic fragrance that penetrated deep into the soul and stirred mad fervor.
This time, the forecast from Lingxu City was spot on—
The Emperor's Flowing Dew was falling!
He Lingchuan pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, kept his eyes on his nose and his nose on his heart, striving to suppress the greed in his chest as he expanded his divine sense on strict guard.
Just like last time, the creatures in the mountains and forests grew frantic, and even the lake below began to churn.
This time, the downpour of Emperor's Flowing Dew was much denser, and its fragrance naturally far more potent—enough to drive unenlightened beasts mad with frenzy.
While they scurried everywhere to collect the dew, He Lingchuan didn't need to bustle about like them; he only had to stand still.
The rain of Emperor's Flowing Dew was liquid. Dropping onto the cloud brocade, it naturally ran down along the silk strands, converging from all directions toward the lowest point—
which was right beneath He Lingchuan's feet.
He had hung a bucket there, steadily and securely collecting it all.
Having witnessed an eruption of Emperor's Flowing Dew once in reality and once in the dreamscape, He Lingchuan had figured out the trick. To seize as much Emperor's Flowing Dew as possible, there were only two principles:
Maximum surface area, minimum time.
That was why the major factions of Fufeng City and the dreamscape's Panlong City authorities staked out the mountain wilds in the outskirts—to claim surface area.
And they had to collect the nectar in the shortest time possible.
After all, once this stuff touched the ground, it burrowed into the earth and vanished.
And once dawn broke, whatever remained would vaporize into thin air.
By weaving such a massive net, He Lingchuan effectively commandeered the dew falling across most of the lake without lifting a finger to scoop it up himself. Though his coverage couldn't match the vast territories claimed by Fufeng City's nobility, his setup excelled in sheer efficiency and practicality.
This was how spiders collected clean dew in the wild. Having observed them extensively in Demon Nest Swamp, he had been struck with inspiration a few days ago to build this funnel-shaped automated collector.
The heart-protecting mirror sighed enviously. "What a shame I've got no hands or feet to share in the feast."
Seeing right through its false modesty, He Lingchuan remarked, "Protect me diligently, and maybe there'll be something in it for you."
The mirror perked up. "Really?"
"Have I ever lied to you?"
*Haven't you?* Before the mirror could ponder the question, He Lingchuan said in a low voice, "Heads up. The looters are here." With that, he casually produced a Nuo opera mask and put it on.
Right now, he preferred to keep his face hidden and his identity concealed.
In truth, the fish in the lake were also enticed by the Emperor's Flowing Dew on the web, leaping frantically out of the water, though none possessed the potential to leap the dragon gate. He Lingchuan only now realized that the fish in this lake were quite large; the longest one exceeded seven feet, its scales gleaming black laced with gold, with two long barbels at the corners of its mouth.
The aquatic creatures couldn't reach him, which was easy enough to handle, but the airborne bandits were drawn in as well.
Deep in the mountains and forests, beasts and birds were already brawling fiercely, but the exotic fragrance rising from the vast net above the lake drew their attention away.
First to arrive were several dozen birds. Paying no heed to how poor their night vision was, they swooped down onto the web to lick the Emperor's Flowing Dew off the silk strands.
The bamboo chopsticks He Lingchuan had spent over two hours sharpening now served as throwing daggers, flicked out one after another.
His throwing aim was already sharp, and these creatures had little ability to dodge, so every throw hit its mark.
The three shanxiao controlled by the evil spirits also joined the fray, pulling out the embedded bamboo chopsticks and returning them to He Lingchuan for reuse.
He Lingchuan ordered them to hurl the bird carcasses toward the nearby woods or ground. The feathers were tinged with traces of Emperor's Flowing Dew, quickly turning them into new prizes for other birds and beasts to fight over, thereby relieving the pressure on the web.
As for the moths, butterflies, ants, and the like, they were too tiny, and He Lingchuan could only turn a blind eye; nothing could be entirely perfect.
It was also fortunate that Zhu Erniang had removed the stickiness from the rosy cloud brocade; otherwise, every single one of these creatures would have been glued fast, none able to escape.
The bucket hanging beneath the web was soon half-full.
The harvest from this single two-hour period alone was five or six times greater than the entire night's yield from before. Although tonight's downpour of Emperor's Flowing Dew was heavier, the crucial factor was the cleverness of his collection method.
Any birds that tried to raid the bucket received his special attention, tumbling into the lake with screeching cries.
He even indulged in the luxury of dipping a finger into the Emperor's Flowing Dew and smearing a dab directly onto the crack in the heart-protecting mirror.
Sharing the bounty, as they said.
The mirror let out an odd squeal, bubbling with joy.
The Emperor's Flowing Dew in the bucket was thick and viscous. The gash in the mirror's surface, once cleaved by the Fusheng Blade, now began to close up at a slow yet visible pace.
He Lingchuan didn't have time to stare at it. He was run off his feet—there were simply too many bandits, and two fists could hardly fend off four hands.
Chapter 375