Re-entry into the Star Dou Forest!

Three days later.

At dawn, before the sky had brightened, the back door of the Qing Family Manor opened silently.

Five figures filed out, one after another, and vanished into the night outside.

Leading the way was Qing Zhengyue. The old man had changed into a dark gray martial arts suit, his white hair tied up, and the narrow-bladed long sword that had accompanied him for decades hung at his waist.

His footsteps were light, making almost no sound as they pressed against the bluestone path.

Liu Yunlan followed closely behind, dressed in a dark cyan short-sleeved tunic, her hair in a silver-coiled bun, her cuffs tightly bound.

The old lady had one more cloth bag at her waist than last time; the clinking sounds from within were muffled by the fabric, audible only to those very close.

Qing Hongyuan walked in the middle, wearing a black martial arts suit with a sword at his waist, his expression steady.

His aura was much more profound than it had been three months ago; the realm of a Soul King made his stride all the more composed.

Shen Wanqing held Qing Mufeng's hand at her husband's side. She had traded her jade-colored long dress for a practical short tunic, her hair tied into a long braid hanging down her back.

Her martial soul was the Jade Orchid, an auxiliary-type soul master. While she was not skilled in direct combat, her support abilities were indispensable to the team.

Qing Mufeng walked at the very end, his steps light and his breathing steady.

A six-year-old child, woken from his bed at dawn, yet he did not utter a single word of complaint.

A family of five, the entire household mobilized.

Outside the manor, an inconspicuous carriage sat by the roadside.

The carriage body was a plain paulownia wood color, devoid of carvings or patterns, and even the curtains were made of the most common indigo coarse cloth.

The horse pulling it, however, was a fine steed—jet black with long, slender legs; one look was enough to tell it was a choice animal among hundreds.

The coachman was a man in his fifties with dark, weathered skin and rough hands. He wore a washed-out tunic and squatted on the carriage shaft, puffing on a dry tobacco pipe.

Seeing Qing Zhengyue emerge, he immediately extinguished the pipe, jumped down from the shaft, and bowed respectfully without a word.

This was the Qing family's most loyal coachman, surnamed Zhao, who had served the family for thirty years.

He only knew that the masters went out a few times every year; he never asked where they were going, never asked what they were doing, and never spoke a word of it upon their return.

Qing Zhengyue nodded at him and was the first to board the carriage.

Liu Yunlan, Qing Hongyuan, and Shen Wanqing followed in turn, with Qing Mufeng boarding last to sit between his grandmother and mother.

The carriage door closed, and the curtains were drawn.

Zhao the Coachman jumped onto the shaft and flicked the reins. The black horse stepped out, and the carriage rolled silently into the darkness before dawn.

Inside the carriage, the space was not large, but it was more than enough for five people.

Qing Zhengyue sat in the innermost corner against the wall, closing his eyes to rest.

Liu Yunlan pulled an oil-paper parcel from her bag and opened it; inside were several scallion pancakes, still warm.

"Feng'er, eat one. We have a full day of travel ahead." The old lady handed a pancake to her grandson.

Qing Mufeng took the pancake and ate it in small bites.

Qing Hongyuan and Shen Wanqing each took one as well, but Qing Zhengyue waved his hand, indicating he was not hungry.

The carriage sped along the main road, the wheels grinding against the surface with a rhythmic rumbling.

Zhao the Coachman's driving skills were excellent; the carriage moved fast and steady, and those inside felt almost no jolting.

After finishing his pancake, Qing Mufeng leaned against his grandmother, eyes closed, though he did not sleep.

He was thinking about their target this time.

"Grandfather," he said, his voice low.

Qing Zhengyue opened his eyes. "Hmm?"

"Has the target for my third soul ring been decided?"

Qing Zhengyue glanced at him, took a folded piece of paper from his robe, and unfolded it. On it was a drawing of a soul beast.

The soul beast in the drawing had a slender body, thick limbs, and a long neck. Its head resembled a lizard's, but it had two short horns on its forehead.

Its entire body was covered in greenish scales, with a row of fine, dense spines along its back and a long, powerful tail.

"A Wind Wood Dragon," Qing Zhengyue said. "It cultivates both wood and wind attributes. It is agile, excels at long-range wind-type attacks, and uses its claws, teeth, and tail in close combat. Its scales are hard; it is difficult for an ordinary Soul Ancestor to break through its defense."

Qing Mufeng studied the drawing carefully, committing the Wind Wood Dragon's physical characteristics to memory.

"And the age?"

"Between five thousand and eight thousand years. There are quite a few Wind Wood Dragons in that range within the Hurricane Wood Mountain Range."

Qing Zhengyue folded the paper and tucked it back into his robe. "Your physique can withstand a soul ring of around five thousand years, so I intend to find you one between five thousand five hundred and six thousand years."

Qing Hongyuan added from the side, "The Wind Wood Dragon's wood attribute is extremely pure. Although it is a sub-dragon species and not a pure-blooded dragon, the density of its wood attribute is not inferior to some pure-blooded dragons."

"Why choose a sub-dragon species instead of a pure-blood?" Qing Mufeng asked.

"Pure-blooded dragons are too hard to find," Qing Zhengyue said. "While there are dragons in the Star Dou Forest, most pure-blooded ones reside in the core area, which is too dangerous. Furthermore, pure-blooded dragons are almost always over ten thousand years old, which is not suitable for you to absorb right now."

The old man paused, then continued, "Another benefit of the Wind Wood Dragon is its wind attribute. Among your future Innate Divine Abilities is Azure Dragon Wind Control; a Wind Wood Dragon spirit ring will assist you in awakening that ability."

Qing Mufeng nodded, asking no further questions.

The carriage ran for an entire day.

From dawn to noon, from noon to dusk, they stopped only once at a roadside tea stall to let the horses drink and graze, allowing the five of them to step out and stretch their limbs.

Zhao the Coachman did not disembark; he sat on the carriage shaft, gnawing on a dry biscuit and sipping water, his eyes constantly fixed on the condition of the horses.

At dusk, the carriage drove into a hilly region.

In the distance, a continuous mountain range outlined a black silhouette against the horizon, shrouded in a thin layer of mist that glowed with a dark golden light under the setting sun.

Star Dou Forest had arrived.

The carriage stopped in front of an inn on the outskirts of the forest.

The inn was small, built of earth and wood, with a faded wine banner hanging from the flagpole in front, bearing the characters "Forest Post."

This was the most common resting place for soul hunters entering and leaving Star Dou Forest, a place where all sorts of people from every walk of life gathered.

Zhao the Coachman drove the carriage to the stable in the inn's backyard, fed the horses fodder and water, then returned to the front courtyard. He squatted in a corner, lit a dry pipe, and began chatting idly with several other coachmen squatting along the wall.

His accent had changed; it was no longer the accent of Nuoding City, but the local dialect of this region.

His demeanor had also changed; he was no longer the taciturn Uncle Zhao of the Qing Clan, but an ordinary carriage driver, indistinguishable from the other coachmen around him.

No one noticed him, which was exactly what he wanted.

The five members of the Qing Clan opened two rooms at the inn, rested briefly for a quarter of an hour, and while the sky had not yet gone completely dark, they slipped out the back door of the inn and vanished into the edge of the forest.

Before entering Star Dou Forest, Qing Zhengyue stopped and turned to look at the group.

"Once we enter the woods, Hongyuan will lead the way, Wanqing will stay in the center, Yunlan will bring up the rear, and Mufeng, you stay close to your grandmother."

The old man's voice was low and clear. "I will be responsible for vigilance. If you spot a spirit beast, do not act rashly; observe first."

The four nodded.

Qing Zhengyue took one last look at his grandson's face.

"After the third spirit ring is obtained, we still need to help your father hunt a thirty-thousand-year spirit beast."

His voice deepened. "Therefore, this operation must be not only fast but also steady. Do not get injured, do not linger in battle, and do not attract unnecessary trouble."

"Understood," Qing Hongyuan replied.

Qing Zhengyue drew his long blade, the steel flashing with a cold light in the twilight.

"Move."

Five figures submerged into the shadows of the forest.