Chapter Thirty-Six: First Steps into the Spiritual Realm

Within a grove, the surrounding woods lay draped in tranquility, interrupted only occasionally by the call of birds. A thin layer of morning mist, as delicate as gauze, enveloped the forest, and all around were rolling mountains, stretching endlessly.

Seated upon a smooth stone was a solitary figure. His face was devoid of light, his eyes vacant, his complexion sickly pale, with cheeks tinged an ashen white. It was difficult to imagine what could have tormented a man to such a state.

Indeed, this was Lin Yanghao. He had successfully arrived in the Spirit Realm, yet happiness eluded him, and so, over several days, he had become as he was now.

At last, Lin Yanghao succumbed to a fitful sleep. In his slumber, he dreamt—a vision of nothingness, where only an old man appeared. The elder rebuked him sharply: “Where are your dreams now? Will you continue to wallow like this? If Feng Shihan knew of your condition, she would be utterly disappointed in you! She would be the first to despise you!”

It was this dream that stirred Lin Yanghao from his stupor.

“That’s right! I can’t go on like this. Shihan surely wouldn’t want to see me in such a state. I must pull myself together and not betray her hopes for me. One day, I shall overlook the world from above, and the legends of immortals reviving the dead and restoring flesh and bone are surely not mere fables. Shihan, wait for me! The day I become immortal or divine shall be the day we meet again,” Lin Yanghao resolved, awakened by the dream’s admonition.

After scavenging for food near the mountain to sate his hunger, Lin Yanghao’s first thought was to leave this desolate, lifeless place and seek somewhere to learn about the Spirit Realm’s ways.

Yet he knew nothing about his current location nor where he ought to go, and thus, he had nowhere to turn. With no other option, he chose a direction at random and set off, trusting in the old saying that all roads lead to Rome. Surely, if he walked long enough, he would stumble upon a town.

And so, Lin Yanghao journeyed eastward. When thirsty, he drank from mountain springs; when hungry, he fed on wild fruits and beasts. His face remained wan, a testament to how deeply the matter of Feng Shihan had wounded him.

Five days later, he finally arrived at the gates of a city. Raising his eyes, he saw three bold characters above the gate: Chiyang City. Entering the city, he discovered it was inhabited solely by mortals; not a trace of cultivators could be found. He mused, “Of course. The old monster, True Person Mu Yu, once said that those with spirit roots are one in ten thousand, and those with good spirit roots are likewise rare among them. So it’s no surprise the Spirit Realm has cities of ordinary people. But I’ve been in the Spirit Realm for days—why haven’t I seen a single cultivator? Wasn’t it said that cultivators abound here?”

Determined to gather information, Lin Yanghao decided to seek out a tavern. As he was about to enter, he realized he was penniless, prompting a bitter smile. The mortal world here, like in Dragon Martial Continent, used gold coins for currency.

“Where did this beggar come from? Get out of the way for your master!” A discordant voice suddenly rang out. Lin Yanghao’s heart tightened—how was it that every place had such blind fools? His mood was foul, and he thought to vent his anger. Though his appearance now was no different from a beggar, Lin Yanghao was not one to suffer humiliation.

Turning, he saw a pampered youth behind him, garbed in finery, skin as pale as snow, flanked by several similarly dressed lackeys. They were clearly sons of wealthy or official families. Lin Yanghao smiled at him, and the youth, misreading this as submission, prepared to escalate his bullying. Unexpectedly, Lin Yanghao raised his hand and struck him with a fist. The youth’s face went numb, sensation lost to pain.

With Lin Yanghao’s ninth-level Qi Refining strength, even a gentle punch was more than any mortal could withstand; the agony the youth experienced was beyond imagining.

“Brothers, get him! Beat him to death!” the youth roared in fury.

His companions obeyed, rushing at Lin Yanghao. With a cold snort, Lin Yanghao dispatched them swiftly. Seeing the tide turn, the lead youth grabbed a blunt object and swung it at Lin Yanghao’s head. But Lin Yanghao, with his heightened senses, easily dodged and retaliated with a forceful punch to the youth’s skull, killing him instantly.

The lackeys trembled as they hoisted their fallen leader and fled. One, glancing back from a distance, shouted, “Just you wait! You’ve killed the young master of the Wang family—Wang family will never forgive you!”

Lin Yanghao cast a disdainful glance at them as they vanished.

“Young hero, you’d best run. The Wang family is the foremost clan in Chiyang City. You’ve killed Wang Jinping, the patriarch’s son; the family will not let you off. If you run now, you might still escape. You’ve rid our city of a great scourge,” an elderly man said, trembling as he approached Lin Yanghao.

“Rest assured, elder, it’s nothing. If they leave me be, all is well, but if they seek trouble, I’ll erase the Wang family from Chiyang City!” Lin Yanghao replied. He had no regard for a mortal clan, no matter how powerful. Unless he encountered a cultivator, he believed his strength was sufficient.

The old man, however, did not believe Lin Yanghao was so formidable, thinking he was merely comforting him. Nor did he suspect Lin Yanghao to be a cultivator; in the Spirit Realm, cultivators remained mysterious and were rarely seen by ordinary people, though legend had it that sometimes they could be glimpsed flying overhead.

“By the way, elder, do you know of any sects of cultivation nearby?” Lin Yanghao inquired.

“Cultivation sects, you say? It just so happens that the entrance test for the immortal sects, held every five years, is underway. I don’t know the details, but if you possess a spirit root for cultivation, you can become an outer disciple. There aren’t any sects nearby that I know of, but you could ask the city’s know-it-all. He’s said to know everything,” the old man replied.