58: Chapter 58 Cloud Gathering

Yun Ming opened his eyes.

What met his gaze was not scorched earth, nor blood clouds, nor that crimson embryo that blotted out the sky, and certainly not those eyes that had turned him into flying ash.

It was green.

Varying shades of green flooded his vision in layered depths.

Nearby was lush, soft grass, with dewdrops still clinging to the blades, refracting fragmented sunlight; slightly further away were low shrubs, their new buds tinged with a gosling yellow; further still were towering ancient trees, their trunks gnarled like dragons and branches like canopies, sifting the sunlight into dappled patches of gold.

He lay there in a daze, not moving for a long time.

A breeze brushed against his cheek.

The wind was warm, carrying the fresh scent of vegetation and the faint fragrance of unknown wildflowers.

A butterfly fluttered past his eyes, its wings a rare iridescent blue; it circled his nose for a moment before leisurely flying away. Birdsong drifted from the distance, crisp and rhythmic, and further away, the faint, long, and peaceful cry of deer could be heard.

Yun Ming slowly sat up.

He looked down at himself.

Everything was there, healthy and sound.

The naxu ring was still on his hand, and the Spirit Stones, Magical Artifacts, and Medicinal Pills inside were all still there.

Even the spirit cuisine that had cost nearly two hundred thousand Spirit Stones lay safely within his Storage Pouch.

Yun Ming froze where he sat.

He remembered those eyes.

He remembered how he had turned into flying ash, scattered by the night wind.

Yun Ming sighed, "What a terrifying monster. I wonder how Great Qian is doing, and if Mother and Erya managed to escape. If I'd known, I would have left them more life-saving Magic Treasures and spirit talismans."

But in truth, leaving them would have been a futile effort; one was a Mortal and the other was only at Qi Refining Level 2, so they wouldn't have been able to activate them at all.

Yun Ming took a deep breath and pushed himself up by his knees to stand.

He looked around.

The sky was blue, so blue it seemed unreal, as if someone had used the finest brush dipped in the highest quality azurite to wash it layer by layer. The clouds were white, wispy strands hanging motionless at the edge of the sky as if pinned there. Sunlight spilled through the gaps in the leaves, spreading patches of gold across the ground, dappled and warm.

He took a deep breath.

Then he froze.

This air...

This Spiritual Qi...

Yun Ming's pupils constricted slightly.

The concentration of Spiritual Qi in this place had reached an inconceivable level.

It wasn't just 'concentrated'.

It was 'thick'.

With every breath, it felt as if countless invisible threads were flooding through his nose and mouth into his limbs and bones, nurturing his Meridians and moisturizing his Dantian. He didn't even need to circulate his technique; the Spiritual Qi flowed through his body on its own, with an effect even better than three days of bitter, seated cultivation back in Great Qian.

What place is this?

Yun Ming looked around blankly.

There was no one.

Only trees, grass, flowers, butterflies, birds, and the distant cries of deer.

He had to go back.

He had to find the way home.

He began to walk.

Without a specific direction, he simply chose a forest clearing that looked a bit more open and stepped forward. The grass beneath his feet was very soft, like stepping on a thick felt carpet. A butterfly circled him a few times before leisurely flying away. A squirrel crouched on a branch, holding a pinecone, tilting its head to look at him.

The scenery was beautiful.

Beautiful as a painting.

Yun Ming was in no mood to appreciate it.

He walked for fifteen minutes.

Then he stopped.

Before him was a tree. On the trunk was a scar shaped like a crooked eye. Beneath the tree was a cluster of wildflowers in full bloom, their petals a rare pale purple.

He recognized this tree.

This tree was exactly where he had started earlier.

Yun Ming frowned.

Perhaps it was a coincidence.

He turned and chose a different direction.

This time he walked very fast, almost at a jog. As he ran, he looked up at the sun, firmly etching that direction into his mind. He released his Divine Sense, leaving a mark on every tree he passed—

Another fifteen minutes passed.

He stood beneath that scarred tree.

Beneath the tree was that cluster of pale purple wildflowers.

Yun Ming stood still.

He looked down at the cluster of flowers, at the cabbage butterfly that had landed on a petal at some point, and a sudden, inexplicable irritation welled up in his heart.

He didn't believe in the supernatural.

He had never believed in such things.

Yun Ming looked up, took a deep breath, and set off once more.

This time, he made a mark with every step he took.

On the trunk of the first tree, he used his sword to carve the character for 'one'.

On the leaf of the first blade of grass, he snapped off a small section and tied it to the stem of another plant.

The first stone he found, he picked up, flipped it over, and placed it in a conspicuous spot.

He walked very slowly.

Every step left a trace, and every trace was different. He used every method he could think of—carving characters, snapping grass, flipping stones, even drawing arrows on the ground with the tip of his sword.

The sun rose and then set.

The sun that had set rose again.

After an unknown amount of time, he stopped and looked up.

Before him was a tree. On its trunk was the 'one' he had carved.

Beneath the tree was a cluster of pale purple wildflowers. A cabbage butterfly rested on the petals.

Yun Ming looked down at his feet.

There was a stone at his feet, flipped over, placed there by his own hand.

Beside it was a blade of grass, with a snapped leaf tied to its stem.

All of his marks were here.

Every single one.

He had walked for so long and made so many marks—the carved characters, the snapped grass, the flipped stones, the drawn arrows—and all of them appeared before him.

It was as if something, after every step he took, had picked up those marks one by one and respectfully returned them to the starting point.

Yun Ming suddenly laughed.

That irritation vanished.

In its place was an indescribable, stubborn persistence.

No way through?

The more there was no way through, the more he wanted to walk.

He simply didn't believe there was truly a path in this world one couldn't walk out of.

Yun Ming looked up at the forest that seemed impossible to escape. Sunlight spilled through the branches, spreading gold patches on the ground. A bird sang in the branches, its melody graceful and leisurely.

He stepped forward.

With the first step, he tied a red thread to the grass beneath his feet—torn from the hem of his clothes.

With the second step, he carved the character 'Yun' into the tree trunk beside him.

With the third step, he picked up a stone and put it in his pocket.

Fourth step, fifth step, sixth step...

He stopped counting.

He just walked.

Every tree, a carving.

Every blade of grass, a thread.

Every stone, picked up.

Every step left a trace.

Time became blurred.

He didn't know how long he had walked. Perhaps three days, perhaps three months, perhaps longer. He only knew that when he finally walked through every corner of this forest—when he finally reached out toward that last blade of grass, that last tree, that last stone—

He discovered an anomaly.

There was one place.

No matter how he made a mark, that mark would disappear.

It wasn't sent back to the starting point.

It disappeared.

Completely, without a trace.

The character he carved on the tree trunk—when he turned back to look, the trunk was as smooth as before, as if it had never been carved. The red thread he tied to the grass vanished in the blink of an eye; the grass swayed in the wind with nothing on it. The stone he placed on the ground—he even watched it with his own eyes—it just disappeared, as if it had never existed.

Yun Ming stood before that place.

It was a small path.

Extremely narrow and well-hidden, concealed between two thickets of shrubs. If he hadn't walked through every single corner of this forest, it would have been impossible to discover a path here.

"I thought it would take me over a decade."

Then he stepped forward, onto that small path.

This time, he did not look back.

The path was not long.

After walking for about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the view before him suddenly opened up.

Yun Ming stopped in his tracks.

Before him was a small waterfall.