Chapter Thirty-Four: A Strange Encounter in Shashi

Su Fan sat on the ground, gazing out at the endless expanse of golden sand before him. Suddenly, he seemed to hear voices behind him. He spun around quickly and found himself facing bustling streets lined with shops, throngs of pedestrians, and carriages passing in a vibrant, flourishing scene.

Looking closely, he saw teahouses, taverns, gambling halls—every kind of building one might expect in such a prosperous city. It seemed even more lively than Luo City, perhaps countless times more so. Su Fan extended his spiritual sense, but it felt as if he could only perceive a corner of this vast city.

His curiosity piqued, Su Fan rose and attempted to channel his spiritual power to fly toward the city, only to realize he possessed not a trace of it; his body was as powerless as that of a common man. His heart sank, but he quickly composed himself and began to run toward the city.

As he drew nearer, the city came into clearer focus. Two enormous golden qilin stood guard at either side of the city gate, towering dozens of yards high, massive and majestic, gleaming under the sunlight. Their sharp fangs and gaping maws threatened to unnerve any observer, but Su Fan’s expression remained calm; compared to the statues in the Tomb of the Nether King, these seemed much smaller.

The city gate itself was grand and imposing. Nine black-armored guards stood on each side, gazing coldly at the passing crowds. Oddly, those exiting the city would vanish a hundred yards beyond the gate, only for new travelers to appear and enter at the same spot.

Su Fan’s eyes filled with confusion—this city resembled the ancient tomb of the Nether King. Yet, there were no commoners in the tomb, and it was buried underground in perpetual darkness, while here sunlight bathed the land. Steeling himself, Su Fan strode toward the city. The guards paid him no heed, not even glancing his way.

“Looking for a place to stay, sir? Please, come inside.” Su Fan glanced over and saw it was the innkeeper’s assistant inviting guests in. Su Fan’s mind began to stir; he thought to ask the assistant where he was. Yet the assistant seemed not to notice him, heading inside as a sword-bearing man followed.

Realizing the assistant wasn’t speaking to him, Su Fan forced a smile and tried to catch the sword-bearing man to ask him something, but his hand grasped only empty air. Shocked, Su Fan wondered if he had once again entered an illusion and proceeded to test several other people. The result was always the same: he could not touch them, as if they were mere reflections upon water.

Suddenly, a galloping horse thundered toward him, dust flying and scattering across the street. In a panic, Su Fan tried to dodge, leaping aside and crashing into the inn’s wall. He rubbed his shoulder and sighed, “It’s only an illusion—why should I be afraid?”

Yet as he looked around, he thought, “No, if it’s an illusion, how could I have struck the wall?” This place was highly strange; perhaps, like the Tomb of the Nether King, he had best leave quickly. With that thought, Su Fan ran toward the city gate.

In the shade of a willow tree to the right of the gate sat a middle-aged man, legs folded beneath him. The man wore a green robe, a smile lingering at the corner of his mouth. Before him lay a zither, and his delicate hands, as slender as a woman’s, plucked its strings, sending forth melodious music.

Beside him on the ground stood a tea table, atop it a purple clay teapot, two cups, and a layer of dust. The man’s expression was gentle; beneath his dark brows, his eyes carried a hint of compassion, as if he pitied the suffering of all living things. Yet his prominent mustache imparted an air of authority, a sage’s presence.

Su Fan glanced at him, paying little attention, and hurried toward the city’s edge.

The middle-aged man let out a quiet laugh, and his music abruptly ceased. “Young man, since you are here, why not sit and chat?” he called.

Su Fan ignored him, believing this was an illusion and that everything here was unreal. Just as he was about to step outside the city, the gate closed with a thunderous boom.

Su Fan slapped his storage pouch and took out the Mountain Soul Fan, approaching the man at the zither. The man seemed to sense Su Fan’s arrival, slowly lifted the teapot, poured tea into both cups, and said gently, “Since we have met here, fate has brought us together. Why rush to leave?”

Su Fan remained silent, sitting across from the man, smiling faintly. The man glanced at Su Fan and continued, “No need for such caution, young friend. I mean no harm.”

Su Fan replied coldly, “May I ask why, senior, you have detained me?”

The man smiled but did not answer. Su Fan pressed, “What is this place?”

The man nodded. “You could say it is your dream, or perhaps mine.”

“Oh?” Su Fan asked, puzzled.

The man smiled. “I am the imperial advisor. While wandering in spirit, I chanced upon you asleep in this valley. I sensed something unusual about you, so I entered your dream with mine. This city is the city where I reside, and it is also my dream.”

Hearing this strange tale, Su Fan couldn’t help but feel curious, though his expression remained composed. He asked, “So, what does senior wish of me? My friends outside may be in danger; I ask you to let me go.”

The man replied, “You mean those youngsters fighting outside? It is of no concern; their strength is evenly matched. Even after fighting for thirty or fifty years, neither will suffer harm. But you, if you miss today, may never meet me again.”

Su Fan frowned. “What do you want?”

The man’s demeanor suddenly shifted. “To bestow upon you a great fortune.”

Su Fan quickly responded, “I am of humble cultivation and do not dare accept a reward without merit.”

The man countered, “Do you not wish to improve your cultivation? All who tread the path of immortality seek to advance their abilities, for cultivation determines longevity and status in the realm of cultivation. Those with good aptitudes are nurtured by powerful sects.”

As he spoke, the man glanced at Su Fan. “But you, young friend, do not seem to possess extraordinary talent.”

“What is your condition?” Su Fan asked in a low voice.

The man paused, his eyes showing appreciation. In his eyes, Su Fan’s cultivation was no greater than an ant’s, yet he showed not a trace of fear. In situations such as this, only two types of people behave so: fools or those of deep cunning. Su Fan was clearly the latter.

The man explained, “I have a master who can divine the future. He instructed me to meditate and roam, promising great rewards. Coincidentally, I have a senior brother who inherited our master’s teachings. He predicted that the person I find may help me resolve a calamity.”

Su Fan asked, “Who is your master? And your senior brother?”

The man replied calmly, “I do not know their identities.” Before Su Fan could ask further, he continued, “The first time I met my master was in a dream, and later my senior brother, but their true identities remain unknown to me.”

Su Fan said, “Perhaps you have been deceived, senior.”

The man was not angered by Su Fan’s words, only responding, “My master taught me the art of divination, my senior brother calculated my fortune—both were diligent and attentive.”

Su Fan was speechless.

The man added, “Perhaps our paths will cross again. Let me give you a gift.”

Su Fan clasped his hands in respect. “May I ask your name, senior? Should I succeed in the future, I will surely pay you a visit.”

The man smiled. “I am Ku Zhu. If fate brings us together again, I will welcome you. But for now, you require treasures of heaven and earth to advance your cultivation.”

With that, the man’s eyes swept the surroundings. “This place is wondrous—within this valley, a marvelous space has been formed. Well then, I shall send you on your way.”

He waved his sleeve, and Su Fan was overcome by a wave of drowsiness, slowly drifting into sleep.

After a while, Su Fan gradually opened his eyes to find himself in a cave dwelling. No trace of spiritual energy filled the chamber. At the end of the cave stood an altar, and at its center lay a desiccated bone.

Purple light radiated from the bone. Su Fan hurried to his feet and called out, “Senior Ku, Senior Ku!” He shouted for a long time, but no one answered; only echoes replied.

Su Fan sighed, “It seems Senior Ku has departed. But what is this place? Whose bone is this?”

Thinking thus, Su Fan approached the dried bone. “Foundation Pill,” he exclaimed.

This pill increases the success rate of ascending from the Qi Refining stage to the Foundation Establishment stage. The path of immortal cultivation is fraught with peril and tremendous difficulty at every breakthrough. Major sects grant their disciples such pills, imbued with immense spiritual power, that can turn impossibility into possibility.

The Foundation Pill belongs to this rare category. Even the likes of Ransuo Gate or Qingyuan Pavilion would go mad with envy for such a treasure, for a cultivator reaching Foundation Establishment would greatly enhance their strength.

Su Fan was overjoyed and quickly took the pill. At that moment, the dried bone slowly turned to dust. Su Fan paid it no mind; he had waited so long for this day, and to reach Foundation Establishment he had tried countless times, surviving innumerable brushes with death.

In his eagerness, Su Fan was about to meditate and absorb the Foundation Pill, preparing for his breakthrough. Suddenly, he noticed the dissipated bone was slowly coalescing. Alarmed, Su Fan retreated, brandishing the Mountain Soul Fan.

Before him, a jade tube gradually formed, floating in midair and radiating waves of blue light.