Li Yan noticed something. "Soul lamp"—what was that? He was just about to ask about it.
"Junior Brother, not far ahead is where we live. I heard there used to be many residences here, but a hundred years ago, some disciples who joined Small Bamboo Peak only wanted its cultivation resources. Once they showed even a little promise, they were no longer willing to do the miscellaneous work of Small Bamboo Peak. One by one, they later joined the other four peaks to specialize in spirit insects, formations, and alchemy. In a fit of rage, Master sealed the peak and shut its doors, accepting disciples only occasionally. As a result, there were too many empty houses here, so Master later used his magic power to demolish seventy or eighty percent of them. Those places are now used to cultivate spiritual plants or for other purposes. Only twenty or thirty percent of the houses remain."
Before Li Yan could ask, Lin Daqiao had already slowed his steps and pointed at the vast stretch of dark, densely packed houses ahead.
Only then did Li Yan realize that, without noticing, they had arrived before a cluster of residences. The spiritual energy here was astonishingly rich; even the air felt faintly heavy, several times denser than the place they had passed at the foot of the mountain.
The residences were all built from black bamboo. From afar, they looked like separate little courtyards, each roughly five or six hundred meters apart. Between neighboring courtyards, dark green bamboo leaves swayed in the wind, their crystalline green motes flowing and flickering slowly, preventing anyone outside from seeing anything within. The place felt solitary and secluded. Above certain areas, mist coiled and drifted, veiling that patch of space.
Standing amid the secluded bamboo grove, Li Yan could