61: Chapter 61 Preparing for Seclusion

"Ding! Congratulations, you have obtained the following items:"

Low-Grade Spirit Stone × 1 (White)

Low-Grade Spirit Stone × 1 (White)

Low-Grade Spirit Stone × 1 (White)

...

Mid-Grade Spirit Stone (Blue)"

Yun Ming stared at the solitary Low-Grade Spirit Stone lying in his palm and fell into a long silence.

He suspected whether the System had secretly adjusted his drop rates; it had been so long, and never mind a colored rarity, there wasn't even a golden glow anymore—it was all just blue garbage.

"Fine." He stuffed the Spirit Stone into his Storage Pouch, stood up, and brushed the grass clippings off his hem. "A Spirit Stone is a Spirit Stone; it's better than nothing."

He looked up at the hanging waterfall.

The water murmured softly, and a faint rainbow hung in the air.

Complaints aside, there was still business to attend to.

Refining the Blessed Land.

He had absolutely no idea how to refine this thing. That Daoist Lord had only written on the paper, "If you can refine it, you may become the new master of this world," but hadn't mentioned a single word about how to actually do it.

Yun Ming decided to explore the place first.

He walked a circle around the pond but found nothing.

The stone table and stools were just that; he tapped them and found they were solid, with no hidden compartments.

He went to touch the vines and pushed them aside to check the cliff face, but it was smooth, without even a crack.

Finally, he looked up at the top of the waterfall.

I'll go up and take a look.

He took a deep breath, gathered his Qi, and leaped up, climbing the protruding rocks on the cliff face. Water splashed against his face, cool and refreshing, mixed with the faint fragrance of the vines.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he reached the top of the cliff.

Then, he froze.

Above the waterfall was a wide expanse of flat ground. It was covered in unknown wildflowers of many colors, spreading out like a brilliant carpet under the sun. In the distance was a continuous forest, identical to the one he had been trapped in before.

But none of these were the reason he froze.

What made him freeze was the sky in the distance.

—The sky was shattered.

To be precise, the edges of this world were fracturing.

Standing at the edge of the cliff, he could clearly see that the distant firmament was covered in fine cracks, like a dropped piece of porcelain that could crumble at any moment. Gray mist seeped through the cracks, and wherever it touched, the mountains, forests, meadows, and streams all dissolved into nothingness.

Yun Ming's heart sank.

He looked closely and discovered that the cracks were slowly spreading. Although slow, they were definitely moving, encroaching inch by inch upon this supposedly peaceful world.

He suddenly remembered what Daoist Lord Wanfa had written in the letter: "If no one refines it, this Blessed Land will slowly dissipate over time and return to the heavens and earth."

So this was what "dissipating" meant.

Yun Ming stood at the cliff's edge, gazing at the collapsing sky, and remained silent for a long time.

He estimated the speed at which the cracks were spreading and visually measured the distance to the center of the Blessed Land—the waterfall.

Three years.

Three years at most.

In three years, this Blessed Land would completely dissipate. And he would return to nothingness along with it.

"If I can't refine this place, it looks like I'll just have to die my way out."

He thought of Daoist Lord Wanfa again.

This Daoist Lord had passed away here; surely he had left behind more than just two books and a piece of paper? A Void Refining mighty figure who had lived for at least thirty thousand years—how vast must his fortune have been?

But now?

Aside from this stone table, this waterfall, and this inescapable forest, nothing remained.

Those Magic Treasures, those Medicinal Pills, those ancient texts, those mountains of Spirit Stones—

They had likely long since been annihilated into nothingness along with the dissipating space, bit by bit.

This was merely the final corner of the Blessed Land.

And he had just happened to stumble into it.

Yun Ming gave a bitter smile.

He didn't know if his luck was good or bad.

He came down from the cliff top and stood by the pond, gazing at the crystal-clear water.

The water was very clear; he could see the pebbles and swimming fish at the bottom.

But a question suddenly occurred to Yun Ming: just how deep was this pond?

He crouched down and reached his hand into the water. A cool sensation traveled up from his fingertips; there was nothing unusual. He circulated his spiritual power and sent his Divine Sense down into the water—

One zhang.

Five zhang.

Ten zhang.

His Divine Sense continued to probe downward, but the bottom of the pond remained pitch black and unfathomably deep.

Yun Ming frowned.

He was currently at Qi Refinement Level 9, so his Divine Sense range was limited, but probing a pond a few dozen zhang deep should have been more than enough. This pond didn't look large; why was it so deep?

He gritted his teeth and decided to go down and see for himself.

Removing his outer robe and putting it into his Storage Pouch, he took a deep breath and leaped into the pond.

The water was cold but not bone-chilling. He circulated his spiritual power to protect his body and dove deeper.

Ten zhang.

Twenty zhang.

Thirty zhang.

It was already so dark that he couldn't see his hand in front of his face; he could only rely on his Divine Sense to find the way. Yun Ming's spiritual power was depleting rapidly, yet he still hadn't touched the bottom.

Forty zhang.

Fifty zhang.

His spiritual power was almost exhausted.

The surrounding water pressure was increasing, and his chest felt slightly tight. He knew he couldn't dive any deeper; if he did, his spiritual power would run out, and he would be suffocated alive in this deep pond.

Helpless, Yun Ming could only turn around and swim back to the surface.

When he scrambled onto the shore and slumped by the pond, gasping for air, he was soaked to the bone and in a wretched state.

"This pond... just how deep is it..." he muttered.

With his cultivation at Qi Refinement Level 9, he couldn't reach the bottom.

That meant it was at least over a hundred zhang deep.

Why was such a small pond so deep? What was hidden beneath?

He didn't know.

But he didn't have the ability to explore it right now.

Yun Ming sat up, wringing the water from his robe, his gaze falling upon the stone table.

The stone table stood quietly in the sunlight, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting the light of the sky and the shadows of the clouds.

He walked over and plopped down on a stone stool, resting his face in his hands as he stared blankly at the waterfall.

"Daoist Lord..."

He spoke softly, his voice low as if talking to himself.

"Just how am I supposed to refine this Blessed Land?"

No one answered him.

The waterfall continued to murmur, the rainbow remained faint, and the birdsong drifted from both near and far.

It was as if he were the only person left in this world.

Yun Ming remained silent for a long time.

Then he stood up and brushed off his hem.

If no one would tell him, he would find out for himself.

Three years.

Three years was neither too long nor too short.

But he couldn't just sit and wait.

He needed strength.

He was currently at Qi Refinement Level 9. Once he broke through to Foundation Establishment, his Divine Sense would cover a wider area, and his spiritual power would be more abundant. When that time came, he could explore the deep pond again, and perhaps he would be able to reach the bottom.

Perhaps the key to refining the Blessed Land lay at the bottom of the pond.

"I'll go into seclusion and break through to Foundation Establishment first!"

Yun Ming took a deep breath, walked to a flat green stone by the pond, and sat down cross-legged.

This was where the Spiritual Qi was densest.

He closed his eyes, assumed the Five Hearts Facing Heaven posture, and began to circulate his Cultivation Technique.

Yun Ming closed both eyes.

The Supreme Profound Pure Qi Art slowly circulated within his body.

The previously dormant Spiritual Qi in his Meridians began to flow slowly, like a trickling stream, widening the riverbed bit by bit along its established path. The Spiritual Qi from all directions seemed to sense this and surged toward him.

The Spiritual Qi in this Blessed Land was so rich it was almost viscous.

Ordinary Cultivators absorbing Spiritual Qi had to first take it into their bodies, then guide it with Divine Sense and refine it with a Cultivation Technique, like a gold panner sifting gold dust from silt—laborious and slow. But here, the Spiritual Qi seeped in through his pores and surged into his Meridians, flowing into his Dantian on its own with almost no need for refinement.

Yun Ming's breathing grew deep and long.

Between each breath, the Spiritual Qi washed through his body like the rising and falling tide. His Meridians were widened again and again, then repaired again and again, a cycle that made them increasingly resilient.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there.

The murmuring of the water was his only companion.