Chapter Thirty-Four: The Heavenly Spring Vein

The shadow’s words left Shen Wan utterly speechless.

Fine, Shen Wan admitted it: apart from that so-called Realm of No Spirit, which he could barely grasp, he hadn’t understood a single thing the shadow had said.

Awkwardly smacking his lips, he made a gesture of invitation.

If you’re so capable, you do it. I’ll keep my mouth shut.

The black figure clasped his hands behind his back, poised and at ease.

“I didn’t expect you to open a celestial vein so soon. Truly surprising.”

The voice differed slightly from his memory, as if the pitch had risen, not by much, but enough to be noticeable.

Clearly, the other was genuinely surprised, with perhaps a hint of skepticism.

Shen Wan was a little annoyed to hear this, thinking:

“What, so I must have cheated to open a celestial vein? I did it with real skill! Enduring that kind of agony is a talent in itself, isn’t it?”

“Wait, opening a celestial vein?”

Suddenly something clicked. So that crystal mushroom hadn’t been trying to kill him after all, but was helping him open his celestial vein.

If that was the case, then he was still alive.

At this thought, Shen Wan’s spirits soared.

Looking at the distant shadow, all the irritation faded from his face, replaced by a beaming smile as he asked, “What exactly is a celestial vein?”

...

He could almost feel the shadow’s hair bristle with annoyance, though it soon settled back.

Great, he’s mad again.

Shen Wan grumbled inwardly,

“Why didn’t you just explain it properly in the first place? How is that my fault?”

He felt this guy was just as petty as his so-called master—two of a kind.

The shadow was silent for a long time. Just as Shen Wan was growing impatient, he finally spoke:

“The Pure Jade of the Spiritual Heart—a treasure of the Outer Mystical Heavens, forged from the source of all life in the universe. It defies the heavens, grants rebirth, regenerates, seals bones, connects to spiritual fortune, and embodies the sincerity of the Great Dao.”

The voice was deep and powerful, stirring a surge of excitement in the soul.

Shen Wan seemed infected by this energy, his eyes glowing gold as an inexplicable fighting spirit welled up within him.

“Pure Jade of the Spiritual Heart… Is that the dog-lichen?”

He muttered softly. Though he guessed what the other meant, everything that followed was sheer gibberish—completely indecipherable.

“Um… Could you explain that?”

Shen Wan had never thought of himself as particularly studious, but surely the other could act a bit more like a proper teacher?

Of course, it wasn’t double standards—just a shameless one-sided demand.

But the shadow couldn’t even be bothered to answer. He simply continued:

“You have opened the Celestial Spring Vein. From now on, your life source will far surpass the ordinary. Do not disgrace your Spiritless Body.”

With that, the figure began to blur and finally dissolved into a wisp, vanishing from the dream.

Shen Wan wanted to curse. This guy had appeared three times and talked nonsense every single time. Damn it!

But the shadow gave him no chance to vent—just a curt “Scram!”—and promptly kicked him out of the dream.

...

He opened his eyes, feeling remarkably refreshed.

Shen Wan had never felt so clear-headed and at ease.

But then he realized something was pinning him down—he couldn’t move at all.

Everything was pitch black. Fortunately, his right hand could still move, and by groping around, he slowly pieced together what had happened.

He was pinned beneath a massive stone.

His face darkened; he was beginning to suspect that his bad luck today was the work of that guy from his dream.

“Damn it, if I can’t curse you in a dream, I’ll do it in real life!”

And so a string of ancestral expletives echoed through the darkness…

Above ground, beside Lake Tingyun.

Wei Zhen and the other elders, along with the nine disciples who had been cultivating in the Cloud Ravine, all stood in stunned silence, staring at Lake Tingyun.

There was no lake anymore—only a field of shattered rocks.

Lake Tingyun had collapsed.

“What happened here?” Wei Zhen demanded, scowling fiercely at the nine disciples.

Everyone kept their heads down, none daring to speak. How could they possibly know what had happened?

One moment they were cultivating, the next the lake just gave out.

They’d seen mountains collapse, houses fall—but never a lake. That was definitely a first.

Wei Zhen knew it wasn’t their fault, but what could he do?

Lake Tingyun was a sacred place to the sect. Few outsiders knew this, but as the founder’s direct disciple, Wei Zhen certainly did.

The sect had been established here because of this very lake.

And now, the holy ground of the sect was simply gone. How could Wei Zhen not be furious?

“Zhang Qi, activate the fourth-level ward. Seal off this area—don’t let so much as a fly get out!”

Wei Zhen was so enraged he dispensed with titles, calling the second elder by name.

Zhang Qi didn’t mind. He simply took the order and flew off.

Elder Qu Fanghua looked around, then stepped lightly to Wei Zhen’s side and whispered, “Elder Shen is missing.”

At these words, Wei Zhen glanced at Qu Fanghua, then at the nine disciples.

Indeed, his junior brother was nowhere in sight.

Was that brat part mouse? He never did anything, yet was always getting lost.

Wei Zhen was at his wit’s end with his junior, but what could he do? Annoyed or not, he still doted on him.

Sighing helplessly, he spread his spiritual sense to search for Shen Wan’s presence.

Lake Tingyun wasn’t large; in an instant, Wei Zhen’s awareness swept the entire area.

But after searching, he found not the slightest trace of Shen Wan.

Frowning, he searched again—still nothing.

Puzzled, he looked at Elder Qu. “Are you sure he came in?”

Qu Fanghua, seeing the elder’s expression, seemed to understand and released her own spiritual sense to double-check.

When she finished, her expression matched Wei Zhen’s exactly.

“It’s impossible. I brought Elder Shen here myself, and only I can open the ward. There’s no way he could have left.”

Everyone present agreed with Elder Qu’s words.

Since the sect’s founding and the establishment of the Immortal Cloud Terrace, Elder Qu had always been its steward.

She managed all the sect’s cultivation spaces, and in all these years, there’d never been a single mishap.

Now Wei Zhen was even more confused. Where could that junior brother have possibly gone?

But just then, a resentful voice drifted up eerily from underground.

Everyone froze. It wasn’t loud, but clear enough for all to hear.

“I… damn… you… bastards…”

Regardless of the words’ intent, everyone could tell it was Elder Shen.

“Hurry—Elder Shen is beneath us! Move the rubble, quickly!”

Wei Zhen gave the order and, with a sweep of his sleeve, hurled a massive stone from the pile, sending it crashing meters away.

The others followed suit, unleashing their techniques. In an instant, stones of every size flew in all directions from Lake Tingyun, as if a rain of meteors was scattering across the ground.

Dust billowed, the rumbling was deafening.

After all, they were cultivators. Regardless of level, if they couldn’t move a mountain, they could certainly dig a hole.

At this pace, it was like hundreds of excavators working at once.

In the time it took for half a stick of incense to burn, they’d dug Lake Tingyun inside out.

There lay Shen Wan, flat on his back, gazing up from the bottom of a pit more than ten meters deep, where a cluster of heads peered down at him in astonishment.

“Junior Brother!”

“Elder Shen!”

“Ninth Elder!”

Everyone spoke at once, and Shen Wan nearly burst into tears.

This was what it meant to see daylight again, to return from the jaws of death, to escape from disaster—well, maybe not the last one.

Since arriving in this world, even though it hadn’t been long, Shen Wan had always seen himself as something of an outsider.

He’d never expected that, solitary as he was, so many people would worry about him. Not even his senior brother’s past actions had moved him so deeply.

Senior Brother, Elder Qu, Brother Lin, Zhu Qianqing, Elder Hong…

All these familiar faces looked down at him. He couldn’t see their expressions clearly, but he could feel their concern—the concern of family.

Tears welled up, emotion blocking his chest, overwhelming him with gratitude.

Suddenly, something was tossed down from above, landing right next to his face.

He turned his head. It was something like a banana.

Bright yellow, too.

At last, the emotions he’d been holding back… broke through.

He turned his head silently and looked up at the heads jostling above, moved to the core as he exclaimed,

“Who the hell did that?!”