313: Chapter 313 The Mountain Gate of Qingyun Sect

The morning mist had not yet dispersed, and sporadic footsteps could already be heard on the streets of Qingshan Town. Steam rose from the iron pot at a breakfast stall. When the lid of the steamer was lifted, white steam carrying the fragrance of wheat rose up, permeating the cool air.

Ling Ye stood at the entrance of the inn, looking at the town that had just awakened, and took a deep breath. That strange energy in the air was still present, seeping into his lungs with every breath, bringing a faint, indescribable sense of fullness. He did not know what it was, nor did he know how to utilize it, but he could feel that his body was adapting to this world in a slow and steady way.

Old Shi walked out from behind him, holding two steamed buns wrapped in oil paper, and handed one to Ling Ye: "Fresh out of the pot. I bought them with the silver fragments left over from yesterday."

Ling Ye took it and bit into it. The sweetness of the flour melted in his mouth, carrying a faint scent of grass and trees—it was not the taste of seasoning, but rather a fresh fragrance inherent to the flour itself. The crops of this world seemed to be different from those of the Star Gate World.

"I'm heading east," Old Shi said, chewing the bun and speaking indistinctly. "The terrain on that side is gentler; there should be a path leading to the side of the Qingyun Sect. I'll be back before dark."

Ling Ye nodded: "I'm going to the town center. Let's meet at the inn in the evening."

The two exchanged no extra words and parted at the street corner. Old Shi's figure quickly disappeared into the morning mist, his footsteps steady and silent, like an experienced hunter. Ling Ye watched him for a few moments, then turned and walked deeper into the town.

Qingshan Town was not large; it only took a quarter of an hour to walk from the east end to the west end. But Ling Ye walked very slowly, slowing down whenever he passed a shop to observe the furnishings inside, the types of goods, and the currency used for transactions. He noticed that the currency circulating in the town consisted of copper coins and silver fragments. The copper coins were round on the outside and square on the inside, inscribed with four characters he could not read but understood the meaning of—'Tongbao Yongchang'. The silver ingots varied in purity, and the cutting marks were obvious, indicating that there was no unified silver minting system here, and transactions relied more on weighing.

He stopped for a moment at the entrance of a grain and oil shop, pretending to look at the rice vat at the door, but actually listening to the conversation inside. The shopkeeper was chatting with a customer, speaking in the local dialect with very unfamiliar pronunciation and fluctuating intonation. Ling Ye focused all his attention on capturing those syllables, trying to find patterns within them. He listened for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea and could roughly distinguish a few high-frequency words—'rice', 'oil', 'price', 'risen'—all vocabulary related to daily buying and selling.

This was a good start. Learning a language takes time, but he had time.

He continued walking forward and passed a blacksmith shop. The clanging sound of hammering came from inside, the furnace fire burning red-hot, and a bare-chested man was forging a hoe. Ling Ye stood at the entrance for a while, his gaze sweeping over the finished products hanging on the wall—mostly farm tools, but there were also a few short swords and daggers, crudely made but practical.

He did not go in and continued walking forward.

At the end of the town, there was a stone archway with the words 'Qingshan Town' carved on it. Under the archway was a wider dirt road leading into the distance. Ling Ye stood under the archway, looking toward the end of that road—there, the peaks of the Qingyun Sect were clearly visible in the morning light. The area from the foot of the mountain to the waist was covered in dense forest, and further up, the outlines of some buildings could be seen, hidden amidst the clouds and mist. The mountain was steep, with only a winding stone staircase leading from the foot of the mountain to the heights, like a long, thin scar carved into the verdant mountainside.

He observed for about an hour and noted down several key pieces of information: at the foot of the mountain, there was a stone platform that looked like a guard post or reception area, guarded by two Green-robed Disciples; the stone steps up the mountain had turns every so often, restricting visibility and making it easy to defend and difficult to attack; the complex of buildings above the mountain waist was of considerable scale, with at least a dozen courtyards, capable of accommodating hundreds of people.

A medium-sized Sect. Not top-tier, but within a radius of three hundred miles, it should be the absolute Dominator.

Ling Ye silently noted down this information, then turned and walked back.

By nearly noon, he found a tea house in the town center. To call it a tea house was a stretch; it was actually just a shop facing the street, with a few square tables set up, selling coarse tea and snacks. Inside sat five or six people, mostly local middle-aged men, chatting idly. Ling Ye ordered a pot of the cheapest tea in a corner, sat down, and drank it slowly.

He did not initiate conversation, just listened quietly. The accents of those people were still very hard to understand, but as time passed, he began to gradually adapt to the fluctuations of their tone and was able to capture more vocabulary. He heard the words 'Qingyun Sect', 'recruiting disciples', 'Spiritual Root', and 'trial' repeated, and the tone of the people speaking was filled with envy and awe.

Someone was saying that the Qingyun Sect's triennial opening of the mountain to recruit disciples was next month.

Ling Ye's hand holding the teacup paused.

He did not show any abnormality, continued to drink tea slowly, and continued to listen quietly. But those few words were already firmly carved into his mind.

Qingyun Sect. Opening the mountain to recruit disciples. Next month.

At dusk, Ling Ye returned to the inn. Old Shi had already returned and was sitting in the room drinking water. Seeing Ling Ye enter, he put down his bowl and said: "There is a small path at the foot of the mountain that can bypass to the back mountain of the Qingyun Sect. It is very hidden, but passable."

Ling Ye nodded, sat down by the bed, remained silent for a moment, and then said: "Next month, the Qingyun Sect will open the mountain to recruit disciples."

Old Shi's movements paused, and he looked up at him.

"When we were in the Star Gate World, we had nothing, started from zero, and survived." Ling Ye's tone was very calm, as if stating something already decided, "This world is the same. We need an entry point. The Qingyun Sect's disciple recruitment trial is the most obvious one at the moment."

Old Shi was silent for a while, did not question, did not oppose, but simply asked: "How do you plan to get in?"

Ling Ye did not answer immediately. He looked out the window, where the mountain peak had once again turned into a silent silhouette in the twilight.

"First, figure out what their trial tests," he said. "Then, find a way to pass it."