228: Chapter 228 Snow Wolf Ridge

The frivolity and lewdness on the middle-aged man's face had long since faded, replaced by a look of utter horror and pallor.

With his Primal Chaos Realm Fourth Stage cultivation, he could be considered a top-tier figure in this patch of Mobei City; otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to openly harass a female Cultivator in the inn.

Yet at this moment, although his internal Spiritual Qi was circulating frantically, it was like a mud ox entering the sea; under the restraint of that withered, thin hand, he couldn't stir up even the slightest ripple.

"You... let go! Do you know who I am!" The middle-aged man's voice had changed pitch, carrying a tremor of feigned strength and inner cowardice.

Old Turtle grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, but there was no hint of a smile in his turbid old eyes: "Who you are is not important; what is important is—you had thoughts you shouldn't have had."

He applied a little more force to his hand, and the sound of bones shattering, like stepping on dry branches, exploded clearly throughout the main hall.

The middle-aged man let out a miserable shriek, his entire arm hanging limply at a strange angle. Beads of cold sweat the size of beans rolled down from his forehead instantly, soaking a large portion of the lapels on his chest.

The few companions behind him turned pale, instinctively wanting to pounce, but before they could take a step, Old Turtle just raised his head and swept a glance at them.

Just one glance.

Those black-clad Cultivators stiffened in place as if hit by an immobilization spell, their faces deathly pale, their bodies trembling like chaff.

The pressure emanating from Old Turtle, the aura of the Asking Dao Realm, felt as tangible as reality, pressing down on their chests, making it difficult for them to even breathe.

"Thump, thump, thump." The three of them knelt down almost simultaneously, their foreheads touching the ground, unable to even speak a coherent plea for mercy.

From beginning to end, Luo Qingyue didn't spare those people a glance. She simply picked up the teapot and refilled Shen Qingyuan's cup with hot water, her movements composed, her brows and eyes indifferent, as if all of this had nothing to do with her.

Shen Qingyuan leaned back against the chair, took a sip of hot tea, and then unhurriedly lifted his chin: "Ask him why so many people have come to Mobei City recently."

Old Turtle acknowledged, threw the middle-aged man onto the ground, stepped on his other intact hand, and asked with a smile: "My Young Master is asking you a question; you had better answer honestly."

The middle-aged man was shivering with pain and dared not hide anything, scrambling to kneel upright: "It's... it's a Secret Realm! An ancient Secret Realm has appeared in Snow Wolf Ridge to the north! Half a month ago, someone discovered a spatial rift near there; the Spiritual Qi leaking from inside was terrifyingly dense, and there was even treasure light soaring into the sky. After the news spread, Cultivators from thousands of miles around have been rushing here!"

Old Turtle raised an eyebrow: "A Secret Realm? What level is this Secret Realm?"

"I don't know... no one has been able to get in yet!" The middle-aged man's voice was trembling, "That spatial rift is unstable. The Cultivators who approached were all repelled by an invisible force; even those at the Peak of the Primal Chaos Realm couldn't break in. Some say that at least the cultivation of the Asking Dao Realm is required to force a passage, while others say there are Restrictions left by ancient powerful figures inside, and one must wait for the Secret Realm to open on its own. Now, several large Sects in the Northern Plains have sent people over, and many Loose Cultivators have also arrived; they are all camping near Snow Wolf Ridge waiting."

After listening, Shen Qingyuan set down his teacup, his gaze passing through the frost-covered window lattice of the inn, looking toward the gray-white horizon to the north.

His fingertips tapped lightly on the tabletop, and he suddenly asked: "Have you people from Tiansha Abyss also gotten involved?"

The middle-aged man's body stiffened, his pupils constricted, and the color drained completely from his face in an instant: "You... how do you kn..."

Old Turtle glanced at the token engraved with blood patterns at his waist, then looked at Shen Qingyuan's calm expression, and understood in his heart.

No wonder this guy dared to be so arrogant in Mobei City; it turned out he was from Tiansha Abyss.

Shen Qingyuan stood up, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and walked toward the door, leaving behind a sentence: "That Secret Realm should be the place where Old Xu is trapped."

Luo Qingyue set down the teapot and stood up to follow.

Old Turtle looked down at the middle-aged man slumped on the ground, then looked at Shen Qingyuan's back as he reached the door, and grinned: "Consider yourselves lucky."

The middle-aged man felt a surge of joy and just as he looked up, he saw Old Turtle wave his hand.

Several streams of Spiritual Qi poured out, instantly reducing the few from Tiansha Abyss into blood mist.

In the inn's main hall, the black-clad Cultivators casually killed by Old Turtle left only a few pools of dark red blood, which shimmered with a damp, cold light under the dim oil lamp.

The few Loose Cultivators in the main hall who had previously been whispering were now all huddled in their respective corners, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Only the thin, withered old man remained stiff behind the counter, still clutching that Mid-Grade Spirit Stone in his hand, the smile squeezed onto his face uglier than crying.

"Guest... please stay." The thin old man's voice seemed to be squeezed from his throat, dry and hoarse, carrying a bit of hesitation and a bit of dread: "That Secret Realm in Snow Wolf Ridge is not something just anyone can enter right now."

Old Turtle frowned and was about to speak, but Shen Qingyuan had already turned around, hands tucked in his sleeves, leaning lazily against the door frame, his gaze falling calmly on the innkeeper.

The thin old man swallowed, lowered his voice as if afraid of eavesdroppers: "When the news of the Secret Realm first spread half a month ago, quite a few Loose Cultivators and treasure hunters did indeed run over there."

"But just three days ago, the people from Sky Wolf Valley arrived. They directly sealed off the outskirts of Snow Wolf Ridge, set up Restrictions for a radius of thirty miles, and do not allow anyone to approach."

He paused, a trace of dread flashing in his turbid old eyes: "The force Sky Wolf Valley sent this time is not small. Leading them is an Old Ancestor of the Saint Realm, bringing a team of direct-lineage Cultivators of the Primal Chaos Realm and Void Piercing Realm."

"They said that this Secret Realm is the ancestral land of Sky Wolf Valley; outsiders are not allowed to approach, and violators will be killed without mercy."

Shen Qingyuan's brows and eyes remained calm. He tilted his head and glanced at Old Turtle: "Sky Wolf Valley?"

Old Turtle hurriedly stepped forward and explained in a low voice: "My Lord, this Sky Wolf Valley is one of the Holy Land forces in the Northern Plains, famous throughout the world for their beast-taming techniques. This Snow Wolf Ridge is only three hundred miles from Mobei City, and is indeed on the edge of Sky Wolf Valley's sphere of influence."

Shen Qingyuan nodded in understanding. He didn't say anything immediately, just raised his eyes to look at the gray-white skyline to the north, his gaze distant.

He took out a Jade Slip and tossed it to the innkeeper.

"Thanks for the reminder; this is your reward."

The innkeeper held the Jade Slip with both hands, his fingertips trembling slightly.

The Jade Slip felt warm and cool to the touch, with fine golden patterns engraved on its surface, looking like some kind of extremely ancient rune.

The moment he probed it with his Divine Thought, he felt a massive amount of information surge into his Sea of Consciousness like a tide—it was a Body Refining Cultivation Technique called "Black Tortoise Mountain-Suppressing Art," a Heaven-Grade Cultivation Technique. The first sentence of the opening chapter read: "With the earth as the foundation, with the mountains as the bones, refine the Physical Body as if forging a divine weapon..."

The more the innkeeper read, the more shocked he became, and his fingers couldn't help but tremble.

When he was young, he was also a practitioner, but his Aptitude was mediocre; having cultivated to the Dharma Image Realm, he could make no further progress, so he retired to open this inn.

Yet even so, his discernment remained.

The profoundness of this "Black Tortoise Mountain-Suppressing Art" far surpassed any Cultivation Technique he had ever seen.

Even among those major forces in the Northern Plains, it would be an extremely precious existence.

What exactly was the background of that young man who had just casually tossed him a Jade Slip?

The innkeeper gazed in the direction Shen Qingyuan had left, and it took a long time for him to recover his senses. He carefully tucked the Jade Slip into his bosom. Seeing that the guests in the main hall had already left, he hurriedly closed the door and put up the 'Closed' sign.