Wind spiritual root

The air after the rain was filled with the fresh scent of grass, trees, and earth.

After letting Shen Leyan go, the old village chief remained inside the ancestral hall for a long time.

An Outer Sect disciple asked uneasily, "Senior Brother Zheng, nothing's going to happen in the ancestral hall, is it...?"

Zheng Ziheng transmitted his voice with Spiritual Power. "Sir, since you have released our Cloud Radiance Sect disciple unharmed, I will keep my promise and deliver the living soul. You may go turn yourself in to the authorities."

The village chief's voice rang out from inside the ancestral hall, hoarse and aged.

"Of course, a Daoist priest's word is worth its weight in gold. Turning myself in would only buy me a few more months of life."

The fires in the village had already claimed untold lives. Under the Imperial Court's laws, he would certainly be beheaded after autumn—a life for the lives he had taken.

"Rather than spend months in prison, then be paraded through the streets and beheaded, I'd rather die here with my son... Perhaps we can even walk the road to the underworld together."

Shen Leyan's gaze sharpened. From the sound of it, the old village chief intended to take his own life here.

Someone caught on. "He's going to ignite the gunpowder! Run!"

The nearby Cloud Radiance Sect disciples hurried back, afraid of being caught in the blast.

The old village chief cried, "Son, your father's coming to join you—glub, glub glub glub..."

Shen Leyan: "?"

The old village chief sounded as though he had been submerged in water. All they could hear was a bubbling noise, like a little carp blowing bubbles.

Shen Leyan stood on tiptoe and peered past the crowd.

Zheng Ziheng formed a hand seal with one hand. Blue light flashed inside the ancestral hall, and the old village chief and the villager hiding behind the wooden table, ready to light the gunpowder at any moment, floated slowly out inside a large azure bubble.

The bubble seemed to be made of water. Many northerners could not swim, and the old village chief did not know how to hold his breath. His eyes rolled back as he went "glub glub glub" inside it.

Only once the bubble had floated a safe distance away did Zheng Ziheng release the spell.

Water streamed from the old village chief's clothes as he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"If the ancestral hall were destroyed, the villagers would have to raise funds to rebuild it. That would harm their livelihoods." Zheng Ziheng looked pleasant, but there was no pity in his voice.

The villagers were farmers with little money to spare. Rebuilding the ancestral hall might cost them more than half a year's savings.

As for the old village chief, having harmed so many people for his own selfish ends, he should have foreseen how he would end up.

"I have cast a spell on the gunpowder buried beneath the ancestral hall's floor tiles. It can no longer be ignited. Whether you turn yourself in or take your own life, sir, is up to you."

Zheng Ziheng turned around. "Let's go. We're returning to the Cloud Radiance Sect."

As they took the mountain path back to the sect, the Outer Sect disciples, who had been subdued throughout the journey, deliberately tried to lighten the mood and began chatting and joking quietly.

Some discussed which restaurant they would visit tomorrow after returning to the sect and collecting their mission rewards.

Some gathered to choose the senior sister they thought was the prettiest in the sect.

Others imagined getting their spiritual roots tested upon their return, discovering they possessed a supreme single spiritual root, and having the elders fight over them as they rose to fame overnight and became the finest of the younger generation...

Shen Leyan was also silently making plans.

[They'll test our spiritual roots again when we get back. What excuse should I use to ask for leave this time...?]

[Maybe I could say the fright made me so ill I can't get out of bed?]

[No, they'd see through that too easily.]

[Maybe I could say I want to travel beyond the mountain, wander around for a couple of days, then return?]

[No, I don't think Outer Sect disciples can accept missions alone. Everyone else wants to get their spiritual roots tested. They won't come with me.]

Amused by what he heard, Zheng Ziheng glanced back.

The young junior brother was reclining on the donkey cart with a blade of dried grass between his lips and his hands behind his head. His handsome, almond-shaped eyes were as black as ink, and he slowly closed them in distress.

Most Outer Sect disciples longed for the chance to have their spiritual roots tested and set foot on the path of immortal cultivation.

But some had failed several tests and grown disheartened. Afraid of being mocked, they refused to try again.

How should he comfort this young junior brother?

Zheng Ziheng considered it for a moment and deliberately slowed his pace, but he had no idea where to begin.

His master had taken him as his sole disciple. He spent years cultivating in seclusion and rarely interacted with the sect's other disciples, so he did not know how to offer comfort in a situation like this.

While he was thinking, he heard his junior brother's thoughts again.

[Heavens, why did you have to give me a wind spiritual root?]

Zheng Ziheng's brow furrowed slightly.

A wind spiritual root?

[I just want to find somewhere safe to grow vegetables. You'd have been better off giving me this Wind Spiritual Root to my senior brother. At least he's determined to vanquish evil and uphold the Dao.]

[Now I have to find a way to avoid the Spiritual Root test.]

His junior brother looked so troubled that even his eyes drooped.

People's aptitude for immortal cultivation fell into five grades. Most had a Mortal-Grade Constitution, meaning they possessed no Spiritual Root and could not sense Spiritual Power, much less cultivate.

Most immortal sect disciples had a Mixed Spiritual Root, which possessed many attributes. Although they could cultivate, their limited talent meant that even a lifetime of effort rarely brought them past the threshold of the Golden Core realm.

Next came Three-Element Spiritual Roots, Dual Spiritual Roots, and Single Spiritual Roots.

Those with Single Spiritual Roots had the greatest talent, but such a genius might not appear for centuries.

Cultivators with Single Spiritual Roots whose names had gone down in history were either mighty figures who founded sects and passed down their teachings, or peerless prodigies who slew the Demon Emperor with their own hands and trampled the demon race beneath their feet.

In short, the major sects of the cultivation world recruited disciples every five years. Before each recruitment assembly, the sect leaders and elders made offerings to heaven, earth, and their founding patriarchs. The heart of their prayers could be summed up in a few sentences—

Please, heaven! Please, earth! Please bless us, founding patriarch!

Let our sect recruit a disciple with a Single Spiritual Root this time!

Just give us one disciple with a Single Spiritual Root, and we'll make our sect bigger and stronger, leading it to glory!

Give us a disciple with a Single Spiritual Root, and everyone at the grand sect tournament will be so jealous their eyes bleed! They'll curse heaven for being unfair!

His junior brother had just said he possessed a Wind Spiritual Root.

Shen Leyan had eaten little for dinner, then stayed up working well into the night. By now, he was ravenous, but he had given all the snacks he carried to Goudan back in the village. All he could do was chew on a blade of dried grass to pass the time.

He was agonizing over what excuse would let him smoothly avoid the sect's Spiritual Root test.

Suddenly, he felt an intense gaze settle on his face.

Shen Leyan: "?"

He lazily opened his eyes and looked up, and his heart abruptly sank.

Senior Brother Zheng Ziheng, who had always walked at the head of the group without joining the Outer Sect disciples' rambling conversations, had somehow come to be just two or three paces ahead of him.

He was even holding the donkey's reins for him.

And—and he had turned back to stare at his face for a while.

[D-did I do something to draw attention?]

[Why is Senior Brother Zheng looking at me like I'm some glittering treasure?]

[Could there be something on the cart? Maybe Senior Brother Zheng isn't actually looking at me, and I'm overthinking it?]

Shen Leyan stiffly turned his neck to look around.

The donkey cart around him was completely bare. There was nothing there.

He gave two awkward chuckles. "S-Senior Brother Zheng?"