Chengsan Real Person

The Array Dao Primer was difficult.

But no matter how difficult it was,

as long as one possessed talent in the Array Dao and relied on time to grind away at it, getting started was actually fairly easy.

As time continued to pass,

He Song ceaselessly studied the Array Dao Primer, feeling that he was no longer far from entering the Array Dao.

Although he had yet to take that step and could not set up even the simplest Spirit Gathering Array, He Song was not discouraged.

Because through his constant studies, he had already begun learning to carve array patterns onto stones, hoping that when he carved array patterns onto Spirit Stones in the future, his hand would be more practiced.

At the same time, after several days of secluded bitter cultivation, He Song released a Sound Transmission Paper Crane.

After releasing the Sound Transmission Paper Crane, He Song continued his daily bitter cultivation.

On the outskirts of the Immortal Market.

Next door to He Song's home.

A streak of spiritual light arrived in an instant, landing directly before a burly figure.

"Hmm? A Sound Transmission Technique?" A familiar voice came from the man. If He Song had been here, he would have recognized at once that this person was his neighbor, Lin Cong.

Lin Cong, who had just broken through to the Qi Refining Middle Stage, had originally been consolidating his cultivation.

Yet this sudden streak of spiritual light still roused him from his cultivation state.

He released a trace of his aura.

The Sound Transmission Paper Crane before him immediately transformed into a sheet of paper.

Picking up the paper, Lin Cong's expression swiftly turned grave.

"Brother Lin, this He departed without saying farewell. I hope Brother Lin will not blame me; circumstances forced my hand."

"Regarding the Red Spirit Gold Mine that you and I heard about at Osmanthus Tower, after making many inquiries, I discovered that the Red Spirit Gold Mine may be on the verge of an upheaval. That is why I have written this letter."

"Once something happens at the Red Spirit Gold Mine, Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market will bear the brunt of it. When the Immortal Market falls into turmoil, with our meager cultivation, we may suffer a great calamity."

"This He has already found a safe place and will wait quietly for the right time."

"I hope Brother Lin will make preparations early. Under no circumstances must this matter be mentioned to anyone else."

"He Song."

His gaze swept over the paper, and a ripple of spiritual power soon appeared in Lin Cong's hand.

When the ripple of spiritual power vanished, the paper in Lin Cong's hand scattered away on the wind.

Once the paper had completely disappeared, Lin Cong sat upright on his meditation cushion, his expression changing again and again as he seemed lost in thought.

After a long while.

"Alas, then I'll leave for now!" After a bout of inner struggle, Lin Cong let out a long sigh and finally made his decision.

At the same time, he firmly committed He Song's letter to memory.

This time, He Song had saved his life again!

Lin Cong left.

Just one shichen after receiving He Song's Sound Transmission Paper Crane.

He packed up his belongings, then stood before He Song's door for a long time, as though he wanted to etch this place firmly into his memory.

Only much later did he shoulder his luggage and stride toward the outskirts of the Immortal Market.

Time slowly passed as He Song cultivated without cease, his strength steadily increasing and his understanding of the Array Dao Primer deepening further.

During this time, He Song lived a highly regular life.

Aside from cultivation, he pondered the Array Dao Primer. Occasionally, he would drink tea and chat with Wei Fan, relaxing his mind a little.

Other than that, He Song did nothing.

Every day, he immersed himself in cultivation and contemplation, as though everything in the world had nothing to do with him.

But for He Song,

the affairs of the outside world had never had much to do with him in the first place.

Spirit Fields? Someone was tending the Spirit Fields.

Mining? Only someone courting death would go mine.

Visiting friends? Wasn't he living in a friend's home right now?

And so, three months passed in succession. He Song continued this routine each day; his cultivation advanced rapidly, while his understanding of the Array Dao Primer grew ever deeper.

This day.

At dusk.

At Wei Fan's invitation, He Song left the quiet room and went with Wei Fan to the pavilion atop the small courtyard.

The pavilion was not completely enclosed. Wind blew through all four sides, and the view was quite pleasant.

Here, Wei Fan had placed a round table along with a tea set.

In their spare time, the two would sit in the pavilion drinking tea and chatting. With a sweep of their eyes, they could clearly see everything happening around them.

"I wonder how Old Meng is doing over at the Red Spirit Gold Mine. In these past three months, he hasn't sent any news at all." Looking at the breathtaking sight of the setting sun in the distance, Wei Fan sighed.

Over the past three months, apart from sending the two of them one Sound Transmission Paper Crane during his first month there, Meng Guan had sent no further word.

Wei Fan was deeply worried.

He Song was no exception.

But they both knew well that no matter how worried they were, it would be of no use.

The two of them were in the Immortal Market, while Meng Guan was inside the Red Spirit Gold Mine.

They were in different places. Even if they wanted to help, it was practically impossible.

Not to mention that He Song's cultivation was low; even leaving the Immortal Market would likely be dangerous for him.

"I've sent him several Sound Transmission Paper Cranes, but whether he received them, I have no way of knowing." He Song wore a worried expression, but his gaze gradually shifted to one side.

At the very center of the area where Wei Fan lived stood an exquisite courtyard.

This courtyard stood on higher ground than all the surrounding small courtyards. At a glance, it stood out like a crane among chickens.

That was where the spiritual energy of the Immortal Market was most concentrated.

It was also where the Immortal Market's sole Foundation Establishment Real Person resided.

This Real Person's Daoist title was Chengsan.

Over the past three months, He Song had seen Chengsan Real Person from afar once.

Like the vast majority of cultivators, Chengsan Real Person had the appearance of a young man and wore a set of exquisite Dharma robes.

As for Magic Artifacts, He Song had never seen any.

But with just one glance, He Song could feel an incomparably dense spiritual pressure emanating from him.

The spiritual pressure was immensely strong. The instant he sensed it, He Song knew that the other party could crush him to death with a casual pinch.

There was no falsehood in that.

He Song even felt that even if his cultivation broke through to the Qi Refining Late Stage, Chengsan Real Person could still casually crush him to death without any surprise.

This Chengsan Real Person was the Immortal Market's sole Foundation Establishment Real Person.

At the same time, he was the pillar that held the Immortal Market steady as the sea.

As long as he remained, the Immortal Market could not fall into disorder.

However.

Just as He Song spoke and subconsciously looked toward that exquisite courtyard,

a streak of flying light suddenly flashed past before his eyes, carrying dense spiritual pressure as it swiftly flew into the distance.

The flying light was earthy yellow.

It appeared to have flown out from that exquisite courtyard.

That dense spiritual pressure also gave He Song a rather familiar feeling.

The earthy-yellow flying light streaked across the horizon.

For a time, He Song and Wei Fan, who had just been drinking tea and chatting, fell into a deathly silence.

Silence.

Silence.

After a long while.

He Song and Wei Fan exchanged glances.

Each saw a trace of horror in the other's eyes.

"The Immortal Market is about to descend into chaos!" Only then did Wei Fan finally squeeze out a sentence.

Looking in the direction where the flying light had vanished, a trace of relief soon surfaced in Wei Fan's eyes.