348: escape route

After leaving the Repair Hall, Su Ming was in no hurry to return to Formation Peak. Instead, he turned a corner and came to a halt under a secluded covered bridge.

He took the wooden box from his robe and gently opened it.

As the lid opened, there was no overflowing treasure light, only a cold metallic aura that rushed toward him.

Neatly arranged on the black velvet were thirty-six steel needles.

The needles were as thin as ox hair, their bodies displaying a dark cyan color from being tempered a thousand times. At the tail of each needle, within an extremely tiny space, the character "Repair" was engraved in an ancient style.

These needles had no spiritual energy fluctuations; they were not Magical Artifacts.

But Su Ming saw at a glance that they were made of "Hundred-Refined Steel," folded and forged repeatedly to remove all Impurities, reaching the pinnacle of Sharp Weapons through pure physical hardness and sharpness.

"This thing is quite interesting," Lin Yu's voice echoed in his Sea of Consciousness. "Without spiritual energy, it's hard for Divine Sense to scan them. If paired with your 'Dripping Water Force' or Magnetic Control, they'd be perfect for ambushing people. Those rough fellows are actually quite meticulous."

Su Ming extended his index finger, his fingertip gently brushing across the row of cold needle tips.

To polish these thirty-six steel needles, who knew how many days and nights were spent, or how many pieces of good steel were wasted. This was the Repair Hall brothers' simplest way of trying to protect their leader who had "risen to the branches."

They knew Su Ming had risen high and the dangers he faced were greater. They couldn't help much, so they could only offer this hidden weapon concealed in his sleeve.

"Master."

Su Ming closed the wooden box and tucked it close to his body. Feeling the slight chill through his clothes, his heart felt warm.

"What is it?"

"This will always be my way back."

Su Ming looked at the continuous cloudy mountains in the distance and said softly, "As long as the Repair Hall exists, I am not alone. If I fall from above one day, at least there's a place where I can peacefully repair a table or fix a Formation Plate."

"It's good to have a way back," Lin Yu smiled.

Su Ming nodded.

He took one last look back at the courtyard filled with the atmosphere of daily life, then turned toward the mist-shrouded Formation Peak.

This time, his steps were a bit lighter than when he arrived... Leaving the Repair Hall with the box of steel needles and a heart full of warmth, he didn't return directly to Star Gazing Cliff.

He remembered the two "Junior Martial Uncles," Qingfeng and Mingyue. He had only met them briefly upon his last return; it was time for a proper visit.

He turned his steps and headed toward the Purple Bamboo Sea on the back mountain of Reception Peak.

Reception Peak's back mountain, the Purple Bamboo Sea.

The wind here was completely different from Star Gazing Cliff. If the wind at Star Gazing Cliff was a blunt knife grinding against rocks, the wind in the Purple Bamboo Sea was silk brushing against lute strings. The bamboo leaves rubbed together, making a fine rustling sound like a never-ending light rain.

Su Ming walked slowly along the path covered in withered leaves, his feet making slight crunching sounds.

Su Ming reached out and pushed aside a green bamboo stalk lying across the path.

The view ahead suddenly opened up.

An exquisite small courtyard was hidden deep in the bamboo forest, with unknown wildflowers climbing the fence. In the center of the courtyard, a spiritual spring bubbled with steam, the water hitting the blue stones with a pleasant tinkling sound. Several orchids by the spring were in full bloom, their petals a translucent moon-white, shimmering under the swaying bamboo shadows.

Those were "Moon Shadow Orchids," a delicate and rare spiritual plant that favored cleanliness and would wither at the slightest hint of worldly smoke.

By the stone table, Clear Wind was scratching his head over a chessboard, while Bright Moon was quietly brewing tea.

"Su Ming is here?" Clear Wind said to the chessboard without looking up, sounding annoyed. "Quick, come help me see if I've been outmaneuvered again in this game."

Bright Moon looked up and, seeing it was Su Ming, a smile appeared on her plain face: "Su Ming is here."

Su Ming quickly and solemnly returned the greeting: "Junior Martial Uncle Clear Wind, Junior Martial Uncle Bright Moon." In private settings, he still observed the etiquette of a Junior.

"Oh, I've told you so many times, don't do this in private." Clear Wind finally gave up on the chessboard, slumped back into the rattan chair, and waved his hand. "Calling us that makes us sound old. Let's just treat each other as equals. You're a True Disciple now; your status in the Sect is significant, so it sounds awkward."

Despite this, Su Ming remained respectful. This seniority wasn't just about rules; the care and key reminders Qingfeng and Mingyue had given him back then deserved this respect.

"Alright, so many rules in private."

Su Ming smiled and waved his hand, walking straight to the stone table to sit down. He took out two black ceramic jars sealed with mud from his Storage Pouch and placed them on the table.

Thump.

The dull sound made the stone table vibrate slightly.

"This is..." Clear Wind leaned in to sniff and his eyes immediately lit up. "What a sharp smell! Is this wine from the Northern Border?"

"Cold Pool Burn." Su Ming patted the jar. "The Northern Border is bitterly cold. To dispel the Cold Malevolence entering their bodies, Cultivators use cold water from deep pools to brew wine, then burn it with earth fire. This wine feels like swallowing knives when it enters the mouth, but like swallowing a ball of fire when it reaches the stomach. When I was at Iron Wall Pass, the old soldiers craved this the most."

"Good stuff!"

Clear Wind impatiently broke the mud seal.

A sharp, almost pungent aroma of wine instantly exploded in the courtyard. The scent contained not only the fragrance of grain but also a coarseness like rusting raw iron and melting snow.

Clear Wind didn't bother with a cup; he picked up the jar and took a large gulp.

"Cough, cough, cough—!"

The next moment, his entire face turned bright red, and he began to cough violently, almost to the point of tears.

"This... how is this wine!" Clear Wind complained while panting, but his hands held the jar tightly, refusing to let go.

Bright Moon gave him a helpless glare and pushed the freshly brewed tea in front of Su Ming.

"Ignore him. A few days ago, Master punished him to look after those ten acres of 'Drunken Immortal Grass,' but he ended up falling asleep in the grass. The scent of Drunken Immortal Grass has a hallucinogenic effect; he slept for three days and nights. If I hadn't dragged him out, he might have rotted in the fields."

Bright Moon's voice was crisp, like spring water hitting stones. She used a set of elegant white porcelain tea-ware; the tea was emerald green and clear, with a few bamboo leaves unfolding in the water, emitting a faint, bitter fragrance.

"That was an accident!" Clear Wind wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth and defended himself. "Who knew that grass was so strong? I felt like I had fallen into the clouds, floating like an immortal... Anyway, let's not talk about that."

He looked at Su Ming, his eyes filled with a bit more inquiry: "Senior Brother Su, is the Northern Border... really as tragic as the rumors say?"

Su Ming's hand holding the teacup paused slightly.

The tea reflected his calm face. He took a sip, the bitterness of the bamboo leaf dissolving on the tip of his tongue, diluting the non-existent smell of blood in his throat.

"Even more tragic than the rumors."