Chapter Eleven: Stirring the Unusual Vision

Old Zhao was already a centenarian and had long since given up on advancing further in his cultivation. His daily practice was merely to maintain his current level and keep his body vigorous.

So, at this late hour when all was quiet, he must have been sound asleep.

Suddenly, in his dreams, he felt a stirring within his body—a sensation akin to breaking through a bottleneck. This was strange. For two decades, his progress had been stagnant, yet now he sensed a breakthrough approaching. This was no ordinary occurrence.

Startled, he sat up in bed. He wasn’t convinced it was a breakthrough but feared something was amiss with his aging body, which could ill afford any disturbance.

Once fully awake, he realized something was happening outside. He hurriedly opened the window to look out.

What he witnessed was astonishing: a seed rapidly sprouted, grew tall, blossomed, bore fruit, which then fell, sprouting more shoots. This cycle repeated swiftly, and before his eyes, a forest emerged.

“An apparition! An apparition!” Old Zhao exclaimed. In recent times, many in the cultivation world believed such visions were mere legends.

“Who could have had this insight? A forest, and a living, breathing forest at that.” Even hearsay had never mentioned anything like this.

Suddenly, more appeared. Old Zhao glanced upward, surprised.

A sprout emerged in the sky, then another, growing and repeating until a vast grassland formed.

“Endless green plains.” This had been conceived by someone long ago.

Soon after, the sky transformed again, this time revealing a vast field.

But it was not over. The sky continued to shift.

Old Zhao felt the spiritual energy within him swell uncontrollably, yet he refrained from meditating. He wanted to observe exactly what this person had comprehended.

Next came flowers. Old Zhao recognized these visions were the fruits of Wen Yue’s insights. Such realizations don’t come from thin air; even if they did, there must be some foundation.

Wen Yue’s first time grasping such complex images was for amusement—he drew upon everything he’d seen or imagined, including AI-generated images from a previous life, anything etched deeply in his memory. Old Zhao felt that even all the flowers he’d ever seen paled in comparison. He felt as if he’d wasted his entire long life.

Old Zhao was left speechless in astonishment.

The sky remained still for a long while, and just as Old Zhao thought it was over, a barren, parched desert appeared.

“Can someone’s insight into earth itself trigger such an apparition?”

Of course, no one answered.

Struggling, a small sprout emerged from the cracked soil, slowly rooting and then spreading into a vast green expanse with water sources appearing.

“Surely that’s the end now!” Old Zhao thought, preparing to sit down for cultivation.

But the sky changed again. All previous images vanished, then the initial scene replayed quickly—like watching a fast-forwarded animation.

At that moment, daylight broke, the horizon lit up with a spectrum of colors, and a brief shower of spiritual rain fell, disappearing within moments.

Alert, Old Zhao rushed outside to absorb the lingering spiritual energy before it dissipated. In that brief time, he advanced from the seventh to the eighth level of Qi Refinement.

After his breakthrough, he checked on the others in the courtyard to see if anyone else had witnessed the apparitions. After all, if one benefits from another’s fortune, it’s only fair to acknowledge it.

Everyone was sound asleep, clearly enjoying the unusually rich spiritual energy of the night. Only Wen Yue remained cultivating, which didn’t surprise Old Zhao.

Having made his rounds, Old Zhao returned to his room to sleep. Meanwhile, Wen Yue was no longer so pristine. The initial energy intake had felt exquisite, allowing him to complete a full cycle of cultivation easily. Yet reluctant to end the sensation, he ran two more cycles before ceasing.

Old Zhao had advised him that newly guided energy should not be practiced with for too long, as the meridians were still fragile.

But when Wen Yue finally stopped, he found himself covered in mud from head to toe—like a beggar ready to be roasted, suitable as a drinking companion.

Unable to bear his filthy appearance, he took an oil lamp and went to the cool chamber to wash.

Lying in bed afterward, Wen Yue was filled with excitement. He never imagined he could actually draw energy into his body. For others, this was simple and ordinary, but for him, it was profoundly mystical.

So many in past lives had dreamed of this, and now he had grasped it. It meant he truly had a chance to become an immortal.

Wen Yue wanted to howl like a groundhog, crying out his joy.

…

The next day, the sect leader Zong Zheng returned with members of the Demonic Sect. When Old Zhao reported to the leader, everyone stared at him in surprise.

Having lived a hundred years, Old Zhao had never enjoyed such a moment of glory and felt a certain pride.

“Old Zhao, did you sneak some miraculous pill while we were away? Your cultivation has advanced a level, and you look years younger,” the short-statured Soul Hall leader remarked in astonishment.

“Younger?” The one most interested in youth was none other than Granny Corpse, who was about the same age as the Red-Clad Woman, both of comparable cultivation. The Red-Clad Woman was known outside as the Scarlet Enchantress or Scarlet Rakshasi, while Granny Corpse was simply called “Granny.”

Granny Corpse scrutinized Old Zhao carefully. Though she hadn’t paid much attention to him before, cultivators’ memories were far sharper than ordinary people’s. She indeed noticed he looked younger and asked, “Old man, what did you do?”

Such an obvious change could not be hidden. Old Zhao half-truthfully replied, “Last night, while sleeping, I felt a surge of spiritual energy inside me—a sensation like advancing. You all know my cultivation hasn’t changed in over twenty years, and my body isn’t what it used to be. I thought something was wrong and got up to check.”

“I just happened to see a streak of colorful light in the sky, which quickly vanished. As for what I didn’t see before, I don’t know. But I truly felt my spiritual energy was ready to advance, so I sat down to cultivate.”

Old Zhao’s words were half-truths; he wasn’t trying to protect Wen Yue but felt he should return the fortune he’d gained from him.

As for how the Demonic Sect would treat Wen Yue if they knew the truth, Old Zhao couldn’t say after so many years in their ranks, so he instinctively chose to keep Wen Yue’s secret.

“Last night? When exactly?” Zong Zheng asked.

“I’m not sure about the exact time; I was already asleep then,” Old Zhao replied.