The old monk and the others had originally had only a vague sense of time.
Even the three hundred thousand years they had spent in Cold Mountain Temple was merely a rough estimate.
But ever since Fang Ling had come into their lives, each passing day had grown distinct.
Against a span of three hundred thousand years, eighteen years should have been negligible.
Yet to them, these past eighteen years had felt more real than any of the ages before.
At that moment, the five of them were brewing tea and discussing the Dao around the stone table in front of the hall.
Suddenly, an extraordinary aura soared into the sky from the mountain behind the temple.
"He's broken through the Heavenly Balance Realm and reached the Heavenly Authority Realm!" The old monk stroked his long eyebrows with a faint smile.
"To reach this realm at eighteen, without any cultivation resources, relying solely on his own talent..."
The Flower Thief crossed his legs and clicked his tongue. "Back when I was crown prince of the Li Kingdom, I had endless resources at my disposal, yet at eighteen, I was only in the middle stage of the Heavenly Jade Realm."
"The Seven Martial Realms: heavenly pivot, heavenly jade, heavenly balance, heavenly authority, jade balance, open sun, and dawn light," Zhao Manzi murmured.
"To transcend martial cultivation and enter the Immortal Dao, one generally needs to reach the Dawn Light Realm before the age of a thousand."
"At little Fang Ling's current pace, he'll surely reach the Dawn Light Realm before he turns a hundred. His talent is truly terrifying!"
"The agony of having his heart gouged out, his eyes dug out, and his bones stripped away wasn't suffered in vain. With the Devil Ancestor's Heart empowering it, his chaos saint body has evolved to a truly terrifying degree."
"Cold Mountain Temple may be safe, but apart from some of Fatty's poisonous insects, he has no cultivation resources here," Sword Demon said.
"They say the seven stars should be lit as early as possible. I think it's time we let the little fellow leave the mountain and make his own way."
"His blood sword had already taken form when he was five."
"Over the years, my three strongest sword techniques-"
"Dragon-Slaying, Heaven-Questioning, and Prison-Subduing-he's learned them all. As long as he doesn't encounter those old monsters outside, they'll be enough for him to protect himself."
"Manzi, how is his Taotie Divine Art coming along?"
"Cultivating the blood sword and the Taotie Divine Art together makes things much easier."
Zhao Manzi said, "The little fellow completed the inner method three years ago. His stomach is like a taotie's."
"He seems to have made some innovations, but it still counts as a success."
"From now on, he can refine his sword with blood and temper his body with flesh. One kill will cultivate both arts-twice the results for half the effort."
"Master, what do you think?" He turned to the white-browed old monk, who was resting beside them with his eyes closed.
The old monk slowly opened his eyes. "Amitabha!"
"The little fellow's wings have fully grown. It's time he spread them and soared."
"He shouldn't remain trapped in this tiny Cold Mountain Temple with us old fossils forever."
"He has already comprehended the Swastika Mantra, one of Buddhism's supreme divine abilities."
"He can also freely control the Golden Soul Mantra I placed in his sea of consciousness all those years ago. It will keep his soul safe."
"He could already use the Flower Thief's Divine Movement Step at three. Even if danger strikes, he'll be able to turn peril into safety."
"There's really nothing left to worry about."
"Well said, Master! The boy has already cultivated Divine Movement Step to the second level. As long as he doesn't provoke those old monsters, he can roam the world unhindered," the Flower Thief said with a laugh, immensely pleased with himself.
"I even taught him the Scent-Stealing Finger, so we needn't worry about women making a fool of him someday. Heh heh!"
"We agreed back then that you wouldn't teach him that sort of disreputable rubbish. And look what you've done!" Sword Demon snorted disdainfully.
"How is it disreputable? Back in the day, countless people coveted my Scent-Stealing Finger!" The Flower Thief bristled at once.
"Little Fang Ling will find a use for it sooner or later!"
"Aren't those demonic arts of yours for killing and eating people just as disreputable?"
"Enough. Stop arguing. Little Fang Ling is coming," the big fat man said, the flesh on his face quivering as he spoke.
"You're all masters now. Don't embarrass yourselves in front of your disciple."
Fang Ling had heard their bickering from far away, but he had long since grown used to it.
Eighteen years had passed, and he had grown into a man.
Who could have imagined that the pitiful, maimed infant of those days would become such a handsome young gentleman?
The grown Fang Ling cut a striking figure, with an unfathomable air of mystery about him.
The blood-red eyes that had grown back all those years ago now looked like ordinary eyes.
Only when their power erupted did they reveal their true appearance.
"My masters once said that I could leave the mountain when I reached the Heavenly Authority Realm."
"Does that promise still stand?" Fang Ling asked as he walked up to the stone table.
The old monk nodded slightly. "Of course. With your current cultivation and abilities, you're more than ready to venture down the mountain."
"We've told you a great deal about the world below."
"But we've been cut off from the world in this dilapidated temple for three hundred thousand years. Some things may differ from what we told you."
"Keep your wits about you when something happens."
"I will remember your teachings, First Master!" Fang Ling bowed.
The Flower Thief said, "The women below the mountain are all tigers. Little Fang Ling, whenever you see a woman, be sure to keep a respectful distance."
"Especially beautiful women. The prettier they are, the farther away you should stay. Most of them are no good."
Zhao Manzi and the others had never expected the world's foremost ravisher to say such a thing, and they all looked at him in surprise.
"What are you staring at me for? Am I wrong?" The Flower Thief shrugged, at a loss for words.
Fang Ling said, "Don't worry, Master Flower. If I see a woman, I'll cut her down with one stroke. I won't say another word!"
"He takes after me in that." Sword Demon gave a faint, gratified smile. "Ling'er, remember: with no woman in your heart, your drawn sword is naturally divine!"
Zhao Manzi looked at Fang Ling with some concern. "Though you've attained a little cultivation now, in the vast world of cultivators, there are countless people stronger than you."
"Be careful in everything you do out there. Don't be too overbearing."
"We're trapped here on Cold Mountain. If anything happens, none of us can help you. You'll have only yourself to rely on."
"I know you long to avenge yourself on those who gouged out your heart, dug out your eyes, stripped away your bones, and slaughtered your entire clan."
"But don't rush things. As long as you keep growing stronger, the day will eventually come when you can take revenge and wash away that hatred!"
"Don't worry, Master Manzi. Hidden Dragon, Do Not Act-hide your edge and guard your apparent dullness. I've taken that lesson deeply to heart," Fang Ling replied.
Finally, he looked toward his fat master, who resembled a mountain of flesh, wanting to hear what advice he had to offer.
But his fat master was always a man of few words, and seemed to have little to say.
After a long wait, he finally squeezed out a single sentence. "Make sure you eat on time out there, too."
"I will!" Fang Ling nodded, then stepped back a few paces.
Facing the five masters who had raised him and taught him his skills, he bowed deeply.
"Years will pass after I leave, and I do not know when I will return."
"I will cultivate diligently and train hard in my divine abilities."
"One day, I will break this Ten-Directions Annihilation Formation and restore freedom to all five of you!"
He knew that his five masters were villains whose sins towered to the heavens.
Anyone else in this world could despise and hate them, but he, Fang Ling, owed them filial devotion.
"Go!" The old monk smiled kindly and waved him on.
Fang Ling turned and walked straight toward the gates of Cold Mountain Temple.
The instant he pushed them open, the wind stirred and blossoms drifted down.
A breeze laden with peach blossoms blew toward him and into the tranquil ancient temple deep in the mountains...
He had arrived with peach blossoms all those years ago. Now, with a few petals settling on his hair and shoulders, he departed with peach blossoms too.
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