Chen Chuan had no intention of completing his cultivation in one uninterrupted stretch. After just one night, he emerged from the Rift.
The Snow Monarch Blade flashed, erasing the Rift along with the dazzling light spilling out of it.
He inspected the ritual he had laid out and confirmed that nothing had slipped through from the other side. This was a necessary check. Even though he had been cultivating right at the edge of the Rift, he could not guarantee that nothing would come through.
Of course, Rifts created by the First People and present-day religious groups were scattered throughout Ying Land. Who knew how many things had already come through them? His little contribution hardly seemed to matter.
But as a member of the Purity Faction, he was still willing to put into practice certain principles of the faction that aligned with his own beliefs. Whatever happened elsewhere, he would make sure there were no problems here.
He took out the ingredients he had prepared earlier and sent his mental power outward. A rush of wind followed. Zhao Ming, who had been circling overhead, sensed it and descended from the sky, crawling through the cave entrance. It bounded up to him excitedly and gave a chirp.
He smiled faintly and reached out to stroke it a few times, then set aside some of the food for it. With a thought, he also drew water out of the pool. Crystal-clear globules floated around them, ready for Zhao Ming to swallow whenever it wanted a drink.
Chen Chuan picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of translucent rice, and ate slowly. Cultivating here was almost like going into seclusion, but with Zhao Ming for company, it was not particularly dull.
His mental power was also strong enough that, even inside