Night Exploration of a Cultivator's Cave Abode

Out in the wilderness, the snow had already swallowed his ankles.

As far as the eye could see, everything was white. The boundaries between roads, field ridges, and gullies had long since blurred beyond recognition.

Fortunately, Jiang Fu'an had hunted in these mountain forests year-round and could find his bearings with his eyes closed.

He did not dare delay. He hurried onward, one foot deep and one foot shallow, his studded boots crunching dully against the snow. "Creak, creak."

In less than an hour, the edge of that familiar forest came into view.

Looking farther ahead, the Mizhang Mountains revealed their massive outline, like a colossal beast crouching between heaven and earth.

Beyond this point, the road became unfamiliar.

Jiang Fu'an stood at the forest's edge, staring at the pitch-black mountain shadows in the distance. His heartbeat could not help quickening.

All those rumors of poisonous miasma, demon beasts, and unknown dangers came flooding into his mind at once.

He was a little afraid!

But Seedling's face flashed before his eyes.

At the Melodious Sound Sect, there must have been countless promising cultivators, and the competition was surely fierce beyond measure.

Out there alone, she was likely having an even harder time than he was now, trudging through the snow.

Was he, her father, really supposed to stay safely at home, waiting eagerly for his daughter to complete her cultivation and return to protect the whole family?

In this world, where was there no risk?

In the past, whenever something seemed beyond his grasp, he would turn around and leave without taking the slightest chance.

But this time was different.

Fu Yuan had pointed him toward this cave abode and said its danger had already been reduced to an extremely low level.

If he did not even dare venture into this, what talk was there of immortality?

With that thought, he took a deep breath of icy air, stepped forward, and walked toward the Mizhang Mountains without hesitation, one step at a time.

Between heaven and earth, there was no sound but the howling winter wind tearing through dead branches.

Jiang Fu'an kept his eyes ahead and his ears alert in every direction, letting no unusual sound around him escape notice.

With his nerves stretched taut and his pace swift, though the cold around him froze each breath into frost, a thin layer of sweat seeped across his back.

The information Fu Yuan had provided was exceptionally clear.

At that moment, it was as if a detailed map had unfolded in his mind. The lay of the mountains, markers at every fork, even the spots where steep slopes might lie—all surfaced with perfect clarity.

It was as though he had activated navigation; he had no need to worry about losing his way.

After walking for roughly half an hour, the Mizhang Mountains were already close at hand.

According to the map in his mind, the cultivator's cave abode lay inside a hidden cave only about a hundred meters from the foot of the mountain.

Jiang Fu'an slowed his pace and used the light reflected off the snow to search the area carefully.

The entire process went unusually smoothly. In the end, he stopped before an ordinary-looking little earthen slope.

He first straightened up, held his breath, and scanned his surroundings.

The wind wailed, the forest was silent, and there was no trace of anyone else.

Only then did Jiang Fu'an take off his back basket, pull out a short-handled iron shovel, grip it tightly in both hands, and dig hard at the base of the slope.

The frozen earth was hard. Every strike of the shovel rang with a clang, numbing the webs between his thumbs and forefingers.

He shoveled and pried, dirt mixed with chunks of snow flying everywhere. Before long, a pitch-black cave entrance appeared before him, its depths impossible to see.

He bent down closer, about to widen it further, when the shovel struck something hard with a "ding," and could dig no farther.

Jiang Fu'an froze and reached out to feel it.

The entrance seemed blocked by an invisible wall, cold and smooth to the touch, like glass from his previous life.

"Could this be the formation protecting the cave abode?"

He recalled the introduction in Fu Yuan:

The protective formation had fallen into disrepair over the years and was nearly useless.

Jiang Fu'an drew the long blade from his waist.

The blade reflected the snowlight, giving off a faint blue-green sheen.

He gripped the hilt with both hands, took half a step back, inhaled, swung his arm, and hacked savagely at the transparent wall!

"Bang—"

The dull impact was swallowed by the cold wind, yet several spiderweb-like cracks spread across the wall in response.

Joy surged in Jiang Fu'an's heart. He swung his blade again and again, each strike producing a resounding "bang, bang."

After dozens of blows, a crisp crack like shattering glazed glass rang out. The transparent wall collapsed with a crash, and a stale, rotten odor rushed out of the cave and struck him full in the face.

Jiang Fu'an took out an egg-sized pearl from his clothes—this was a night-luminescent pearl the imperial court had awarded him earlier as a reward.

The pearl gave off a soft milky-white glow, illuminating his face, reddened from the cold.

Holding the pearl up, he hunched over and carefully entered the cave.

Just a few steps in, a heavy stench of mold mixed with dust surged into his nostrils, making his throat itch.

Alarmed, Jiang Fu'an immediately held his breath and quickly retreated.

This cave had been sealed for far too long. There was probably no living air left inside.

If he barged in rashly, he might suffocate to death within.

He crouched outside the entrance and let the cold wind pour into the cave.

Meanwhile, he rubbed his frozen hands and kept a wary eye on the surrounding woodland.

After waiting about a quarter of an hour, estimating that the dead air within had mostly been replaced, he raised the night-luminescent pearl again and bent down to crawl into the cave.

This was a natural cavern of around a hundred square meters. Its walls were rough, but its ground was level.

The glow of the pearl pushed back the darkness, first revealing a skeleton seated quietly on a meditation cushion not far away.

The skeleton wore a set of pale pink palace robes. Though their color had dimmed, their former exquisiteness could still be seen.

Its head hung low, its hands resting on its knees, as though it had merely entered meditation peacefully.

Jiang Fu'an's heart stirred.

This should be the cave abode's owner—the Foundation Establishment cultivator who had passed away in meditation over a century ago.

He slowly approached, crouched before the skeleton, and examined it closely by the light of the pearl.

The skeleton's white bones gleamed eerily, yet were unexpectedly not all that frightening.

They were less frightening than the freshly dead corpses he had seen before.

As his gaze swept over it, he was first drawn to a faint, shadowy gleam on one of the skeleton's finger bones.

It was a ring, casting an ancient glow beneath the pearl's light.

"Could this be the Storage Ring cultivators use?"

Jiang Fu'an's breathing quickened slightly.

If it truly was, then he had really stumbled upon an immense stroke of fortune.

He hurriedly reached out and carefully slipped the ring from the finger bone.

As he moved, his fingertips accidentally brushed the sleeve of the palace robe. The fabric, which had looked perfectly intact, instantly crumbled into a cloud of fine dust and drifted down in soft flurries.

He paid it little mind, only raising the ring before the night-luminescent pearl and examining it over and over.

This ring was far thicker than an ordinary ring and felt heavy in his hand.

That only made him more certain of his earlier guess.

But he soon discovered a troublesome problem—it would not open.

The ring was seamless, its surface smooth, with no joints, hidden clasps, or mechanisms to be found.

Jiang Fu'an suddenly remembered the novels he had read in his previous life:

Storage rings needed spiritual power infused into them to open, and some even had restrictions that had to be broken first.

Thinking of this, he decisively stopped dwelling on it and carefully tucked the ring against his body inside his clothes.

Then his gaze returned to the skeleton. He stood and slowly circled it once.

This time, a white cloak half-hidden behind the skeleton caught his attention.

More than a hundred years had passed. The clothes on the skeleton had all decayed, yet this cloak alone remained as bright and fresh as new.

He reached out and touched it. It felt silky and cool, even finer than the ten bolts of brand-new Cloud Brocade at home.

Good stuff!

He gently removed the cloak from the skeleton's shoulders, folded it carefully, and placed it in the back basket behind him.

After confirming that there was nothing else on the skeleton worth noticing, he lifted the night-luminescent pearl higher, its gleaming white halo pushing deeper into the cave.