Old Ground, Old Well

Han Li stood before a massive pile of rubble, his expression carrying a trace of desolate stillness.

Nothing has changed.

To prevent the demonic path cultivators from discovering his old cave dwelling, he had deliberately collapsed the entire mountain peak above it. Now, many years later, the area had become a desolate wasteland. Naturally, no one would imagine that beneath this heap of broken stone, a hidden cultivator's residence lay buried.

Muttering softly to himself, Han Li raised a hand. White light flashed before him as several giant ape puppets materialized.

Under his spiritual sense, the puppets began clearing the rubble with mechanical efficiency. Beams of colored light shot from their ten fingers, pulverizing the massive boulders blocking the path, carving a straight passage down toward the buried cave.

In mere moments, the tunnel was complete.

Han Li ordered the puppets to guard the entrance. He himself transformed into a streak of azure light and flew into the depths below.

The interior of the cave was exactly as he had left it in his hurried departure. No one had entered since. The discovery brought him a measure of relief.

He had not come here for nostalgia. His destination was the chamber housing the Spirit Spring.

His goal was to take the spring with him.

He already possessed the Spirit Eye Stone—a refined jade that was among the highest-grade spiritual objects in existence. He also had the Spirit Eye Tree. But no cultivator would ever complain of having too many spiritual-vein treasures.

This particular Spirit Spring was small, but since he was passing through Yue Country anyway, he might as well collect it.

The spring still sat intact within the chamber, wispy white spiritual qi rising from its surface.

Han Li stared at the spring with complex emotions. His mind drifted back to the days of his first Foundation Establishment, when he had opened this very cave and discovered the spring for the first time.

It feels like yesterday.

A flood of memories stirred within him.

After gazing for a long moment, he let out a soft sigh. His hands formed a series of hand seals, sending several beams of light into the spring.

Brilliance erupted over the water. The ground beneath his feet began to tremble.

Expression unchanged, Han Li sat down cross-legged, his hands forming a strange seal. Fixing his eyes on the spring, he began to chant low, rhythmic syllables.

An impossible sight unfolded.

The spring's surface began to boil without cause, as though an invisible giant hand were stirring the water. The liquid swirled, rose, and condensed into a deep, unfathomable vortex.

Then, a startling burst of white spiritual energy shot upward from the spring, piercing through the chamber ceiling and disappearing into the sky.

Han Li's expression flickered. The spiritual energy leakage was unexpected. After a momentary pause, his face returned to calm, and he continued his incantation.

The trembling grew more violent. A ring of blinding yellow light bloomed around the spring's edge.

The light shrank, contracting inward, and the spring shrank with it.

The radiance intensified, enveloping the entire spring in a dazzling glow.

With a sharp shout, Han Li ended the spell. The light converged.

A round, deep-yellow pearl, the size of a fist, floated gently before him.

Below it was a massive empty pit.

The Spirit Spring was gone.

Han Li smiled faintly. But then his expression shifted. His head tilted slightly, and his face darkened.

He could sense that the ape puppets he had left at the entrance were under attack. They had not yet been destroyed, but they were clearly on the losing end, and would not last much longer.

Without hesitation, Han Li retrieved a jade box, carefully placed the pearl inside, and tucked it away. Then he transformed into an azure streak and flew out the way he had come.

Emerging from the tunnel, he saw several black-robed cultivators savagely attacking his giant ape puppets. Some twenty or thirty yards away stood a gray-robed man in his thirties, with a sinister face and shrewd eyes. He was watching the scene with a puzzled expression.

Han Li's azure light burst out of the tunnel, startling the cultivators. The gray-robed man shouted a command to halt. The black-robed fighters stopped their assault and retreated to his side.

Han Li appeared in midair, his figure solidifying as he stopped. His eyes, utterly devoid of emotion, locked onto the group. He let his aura radiate outward, revealing the unmistakable pressure of a Nascent Soul cultivator.

"Senior, please don't misunderstand!" the gray-robed man blurted out after a single sweep of his eyes. A look of terror seized his face. "I mean no harm! My disciples and I were simply passing by when we sensed an unusual disturbance of spiritual energy. Curiosity got the better of us. This junior is Yu Hong of the Ghost Spirit Sect. My master is the Soul-Fragment True Man. We have absolutely no intention of opposing Senior."

"Soul-Fragment True Man." Han Li frowned slightly. The name sounded familiar.

After a brief recollection, the memory surfaced.

Wasn't he one of the Nascent Soul eccentrics of the Ghost Spirit Sect? Han Li recalled hearing that the man was ruthless, fiercely protective of his disciples, and not someone to be lightly provoked. The white-haired elder of the Falling Cloud Sect had even mentioned him once, advising Han Li to be cautious.

While Han Li pondered, the gray-robed man saw that his master's name had apparently registered with the unknown Nascent Soul cultivator. He felt slightly reassured, but his nervous smile remained fixed on his face.

"Senior knows my master? Perhaps you are an old friend! Then this one has truly been presumptuous. I had no idea Senior was conducting business here. I would never have dared to disturb Senior's peace. Is there anything this junior can do to assist? Please, Senior, just say the word. Or, if Senior prefers, I will take my leave immediately." Despite his sinister appearance, the gray-robed man was exceedingly smooth-tongued. He tested the waters with these words, his posture reverent and submissive.

Facing an unknown Nascent Soul cultivator alone was a situation that made even this Core Formation cultivator's back break into a cold sweat.

Han Li stared at the gray-robed man without answering. He spread his spiritual sense outward, scanning the surrounding area.

No other cultivators for a hundred miles.

They really did stumble here by chance.

The thought crossed his mind.

A spark of killing intent flared within him.

Whether viewed from his former identity as a Yellow Maple Valley cultivator or from his current position as an elder of the Falling Cloud Sect, he had no reason to let these Ghost Spirit Sect cultivators live. The Ghost Spirit Sect's young master had once nearly taken his life. That old grievance still festered coldly beneath the surface.

And there was another concern. If these people returned and reported the presence of an unfamiliar Nascent Soul cultivator in Yue Country, the Ghost Spirit Sect's elders would take notice. Being hunted across the border by several cultivators of equal rank was not a prospect he wished to face.

He decided.

He would act without a word.

But just as he prepared to strike, one of the black-robed cultivators—an elderly man among them—let out a surprised gasp as he stared at Han Li.

"Y-you are—!"