But if the newcomer were a Golden Core cultivator, the situation might be different.
Golden Core cultivators generally had better places to go. Though work that involved dealing with every peak could bring in quite a bit of profit, running into the disciples of some troublesome great cultivator was enough to give anyone a splitting headache.
They also had to worry about offending people. These days, even demonic cultivators could enter the Dao Sect. If some heretical cultivator killed someone outside again, it probably would not shock anyone all that much.
Lu Qing cast his gaze downward. The spirit rice had been harvested once, but aside from the absence of spirit grain, the spirit fields on the mountain did not expose their dark, fertile soil.
"Of the four Golden Core realms, my strength has grown again. But my seclusion will have to begin after tomorrow."
Other than the miscellaneous work at the Spirit Plant Garden, nothing of note happened in his cultivation today.
That night, he once more drew down the stars to cultivate, refining moonlight and starlight.
The next day.
Lu Qing slowly opened his eyes. A cloud formed beneath his feet—an art he had picked up from watching disciples ride the wind and tread the clouds as they traveled outside. For long journeys, treasure boats and dharma vessels were naturally more popular. But over short distances, quite a few people still used arts such as riding the wind, treading the clouds, chasing the wind, and pursuing the stars, all for that misty, immortal air unique to cultivators.
The drawback was that maintaining a cloud required abundant spiritual power.
But for Lu Qing, that was nothing.
His flight was swift, but today he was headed to Reception Peak in the back mountain. It was a good chance to take