A Grand Formation Gathers Spiritual Energy

"If you all like it, we shall hold our lessons here." Zi Bofeng looked around. There was a flat, open space where the Blue Rock stood. As long as the weather was fine, setting up a few tables and chairs here would allow him to open a school. It would serve the dual purpose of teaching the students and helping Uncle Blue Rock awaken his intelligence... Yes, that was a fine idea. He would discuss it with Yan Lao Wu when he returned.

In the blink of an eye, the students chased each other away, leaving only Little Stone lingering by the Blue Rock. Zi Bofeng reached up to touch the center of his brow, peering through the Porcelain Shard to see the black dots flowing down the mountain and returning to their respective homes. Only then did he nod in relief.

Furthermore, Zi Bofeng noticed that compared to the morning, these black dots had grown much denser; clearly, their faith in him had deepened.

Yet, a black dot so faint it was nearly invisible was moving from the foot of the mountain toward the peak.

Zi Bofeng looked up to see Zhuzi carrying a crude hunting bow on his back, clutching several animal traps as he walked up the mountain. Zi Bofeng sighed inwardly. This Zhuzi still hated him to the bone. He was a man of stubborn temperament; once he set his mind on something, it was hard to turn him around. Even regarding the time Zi Bofeng had helped him find a place to stay, he had credited the kindness to Zi Jian, refusing to forgive Zi Bofeng.

Zhuzi walked up the mountain, ignoring Zi Bofeng entirely. He reached out to pat Little Stone and said, "Little Stone, I've set some traps in the area. Be careful when you're running around; don't step on them."

"Mm, I know," Little Stone nodded. Hunters always marked their traps and never placed them on frequently used paths; the village children all knew how to spot them.

Zhuzi patted Little Stone's neck again, cast a glance at Zi Bofeng, and walked toward the mountain with his longbow on his back.

Little Stone rubbed his flat little belly and said, "Brother, I'm hungry. Let's go home and eat!"

"Let's go!" Zi Bofeng waved at the Blue Rock and followed the mountain path down.

When they reached the foot of the mountain, they saw Yan Lao Wu standing outside Zi Bofeng's house, looking up at the rock on the mountain. "Why do I keep feeling like that big rock has grown larger?"

Zi Bofeng looked back and quietly wiped away sweat. He had thought it was just his own imagination, but it turned out Yan Lao Wu felt it too. It seemed... Uncle Blue Rock really was growing.

Zi Bofeng did not yet realize that this was related to his Monster Raising Art. The Monster Raising Art combined worldly power, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, human knowledge, and the intelligence of monsters in a peculiar way. It established a unique cycle outside the Three Realms and Five Paths. As this cycle operated, it grew stronger, eventually establishing a brand-new path of reincarnation. In the dark, this newly established cycle would eventually shake the old, withered, and decaying Heavenly Dao, altering the trajectory of heaven and earth, the fate of the mundane world, and all things under the sun.

But at this moment, this new cycle was still so tender—so tender that even Zi Bofeng, the key link within it, had not yet realized it.

The Blue Rock had not only grown larger, but under the strange efficacy of the Monster Raising Art, its spiritual energy had merged with the spiritual energy of the entire Lower Yan Village. It acted like a needle pinning the sea or a pillar supporting the sky, firmly anchoring the spiritual energy within the boundaries of Lower Yan Village. It circulated within itself, no longer being siphoned away by an invisible force to serve as nourishment for others, as it had in the past.

On the hillside to the north of Lower Yan Village, about two hundred meters from Zi Bofeng's house, stood the giant blue rock. A mile further north, higher up the slope, Zhuzi was setting traps along animal trails. Deeper into the mountain, the terrain became abruptly steep; Bird-Mouse Mountain pierced the clouds, its height unknown.

On a cliff at the cloud-shrouded peak, a place akin to a fairyland, sat a Taoist temple. Facing the cliff stood a memorial archway inscribed with the three characters "Bird-Mouse Temple." This was the mountain gate of the temple. The temple was not large—about the same scale as Lower Yan Village—and many of its buildings were in disrepair, dilapidated and crumbling. Only near the mountain gate was there any sign of life.

An old Taoist walked out from the gate. He had a long, five-willow beard, hair as white as snow, and two long, bushy eyebrows drooping to the sides of his face. He wandered about, finally stopping to frown as he inspected the Spirit Gathering Array on the ground.

For over ten days, the spiritual energy absorbed by the Spirit Gathering Array had dropped sharply, no longer sufficient for the cultivation of the brothers in the temple. To draw in enough spiritual power, the old Taoist had been forced to increase the efficiency of the array, but even so, the situation had not improved. Instead, many of the jade stones in the array had overloaded and cracked.

He took some jade stones from his sleeve to replace the broken ones, thinking to himself, "If this continues, I fear we will have to go to Mengcheng to demand the spirit tax in less than two months."

But this treated the symptoms, not the root cause. Although the spiritual energy between heaven and earth had been thinning day by day for a thousand years, it seemed to be dropping far too quickly these past few days.

As the saying goes, when things are abnormal, there must be a monster. The old Taoist pinched his fingers to calculate, but something always obscured the heavenly secrets, making it difficult to see clearly.

He inspected the Spirit Gathering Array again and discovered that the spiritual energy from the south seemed to have been intercepted by something, causing the total energy gathered by the array to drop by more than a tenth.

"Could it be that a great monster has descended, marking territory and monopolizing the spiritual energy to wreak havoc on the world?" The old Taoist furrowed his bushy brows and looked south, but he saw no monstrous aura soaring to the heavens.

"This matter is strange. I must go down the mountain to investigate... but if I leave, the Spirit Gathering Array will likely stop functioning..." Just as he hesitated, he heard someone calling out as they ran toward him.

The old Taoist turned to see his junior brother, Feijianzi, dressed in white Taoist robes, running toward him. Seeing the old Taoist, he immediately shouted, "Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother told me to call you back!"

Seeing his junior brother, who still possessed the appearance of a youth, a smile appeared on the old Taoist's face. This junior brother was gifted and possessed high aptitude; if not for the current scarcity of spiritual energy in the world, his cultivation would have long since surpassed his own.

"Junior Brother, you have been on the mountain for thirty years now, haven't you?" the old Taoist asked.

"Mm, I have been on the mountain for thirty-two years," Feijianzi smiled. In the mountains, there are no calendars; one does not know the years as the winters pass. Time had left no mark on Feijianzi, who was devoted to the Tao. Such natural constitution, such clarity, and such comprehension made even the old Taoist, the master of Bird-Mouse Temple, deeply envious.

"Then have you ever thought about going down the mountain?" The old Taoist smiled, gently stroking Feijianzi's back. Their master had passed away less than a year after taking them in; the youth before him was more like his own disciple.

"Down the mountain?" Feijianzi was stunned. "Why would I go down the mountain?"

Cultivating the Tao in the mountains, idle and tranquil—Feijianzi loved this life. He had almost forgotten everything from before he came up the mountain.

"I will discuss this with your Second Senior Brother and then explain it to you in detail," the old Taoist smiled.

However, those who cultivate the Tao have long lives, and it was two months later when the old Taoist brought the matter up again.

Two months is neither long nor short. During these two months, Zi Bofeng went to the Blue Rock every morning to hold classes and, incidentally, raise monsters. In the afternoon, he returned to his study to read, write, and experiment with monster raising. Occasionally, he would handle miscellaneous matters with Yan Lao Wu.

In the middle of a certain month, a messenger from Mengcheng arrived and delivered a letter to Zi Bofeng. The letter was written by the Prefect himself, roughly detailing his experiences in Quzhou Prefecture. The Prefect had argued eloquently in Quzhou, finally succeeding in having Mengcheng's taxes waived, which made the people of other cities envious and, naturally, allowed him to hold his head high. The letter also stated that if Zi Bofeng were willing, the doors of the Mengcheng Prefecture would always be open to him. Zi Bofeng smiled and dismissed it, tossing the letter into the fire to be burned.

The world only knew that he had argued eloquently in Mengcheng and persuaded the Prefect to waive the taxes for Lower Yan Village, but they did not know that he had actually achieved this result by cooking the books. The fewer people who knew about this, the better.

Now, the vast majority of Zi Bofeng's energy was focused on the little ones in Lower Yan Village. These days, Zi Bofeng had discovered that Lower Yan Village consisted only of honest, simple farmers or lazy loafers; there wasn't a single talent worth using. Many things could not be done, and the first priority was to cultivate a batch of usable talent.

The adults were already beyond saving, so the young ones were more malleable. However, these people were truly too young; it would take a long time for them to become talented, and they would need at least a year of study at the academy.

In these two months, his students had made rapid progress. The older ones could already recite the classics, the younger ones could transcribe the Thousand Character Classic, the Hundred Family Surnames, and the Three Character Classic, and even the youngest ones recognized many characters and could read haltingly on their own. Zi Bofeng had compiled many picture books for them to read. Little bookworms holding a book while walking down the street could now be seen everywhere. Where had these children ever seen such interesting, illustrated picture books? Little Stone even had to hug one to sleep at night.

However, with the academy entrance exams approaching in a few days, Zi Bofeng began to focus on test-taking techniques.

Zi Bofeng decided that once he sent these people to the academy, he would open a literacy class in Lower Yan Village to "liquidate" those in the village who didn't know a few big characters yet dared to claim that every word they spoke was upright and honorable.

For some reason, Yan Lao Wu firmly disagreed with this, and the two were currently in the midst of a dispute.

As the date of the academy exams drew near, Zi Bofeng began the final sprint with his students. A total of six people were taking the exam. The day before the exam, the villagers beat drums and gongs to see them off. Even Yan Lao Wu personally led the team, bringing three or four strong men to escort them, his hopes for the children to become successful dragons extremely fervent. Zi Bofeng was full of confidence regarding the academy exams; he was certain about these six people, and at least five of them would surely pass.

Progress on Zi Bofeng's side was smooth, but the big creature wreaking havoc in the village had still not been caught. Livestock were still being bitten to death sporadically in the village. Yan Lao Wu organized the able-bodied men to patrol every night, but it was to no avail.

Record of Raising Monsters