Chapter Four: The Realm Without Spirit

Lying inside the belly of the giant crocodile, Shen Wan found his thoughts astonishingly calm amid the deep gloom. Recalling the entire sequence of events, he arrived at a conclusion that was, though unlikely, the only one he could not ignore and had to verify: he was no longer on Earth.

“Damn it, could things get any more melodramatic?” he muttered, rolling over as his mind swirled with confusion. At this moment, he was thinking neither of his vibrant university life, nor of the beautiful senior girls with their long legs. Instead, what surfaced was the image of a white-robed elder with a long beard and a lecherous look—an old fraud. No, he was an immortal!

Shen Wan strained to recall the words spoken by the Ascendant Taoist. The Sealed Heaven Realm, the Endless Sea, the Mid-grade Soul of the Pill, Pangu Opening the Heavens, Divine Techniques of Heaven and Earth...

“The golden scroll?!” Shen Wan’s eyes lit up. He remembered that the first time he entered this darkness—the moment he came into the belly of the crocodile—he had seen that golden scroll. Out of sheer boredom, he had leafed through its contents with great care. The writing was utterly obscure, not a single word made sense, yet he couldn’t help but keep reading, drawn in by its mysterious allure.

By the time he reached the end, he had felt a strange daze. He vaguely recalled that, at that moment, a figure had appeared in his mind. He had thought it all just a dream. That figure was indistinct, its features impossible to discern, and Shen Wan only vaguely remembered it speaking.

“The myriad things of the universe are all spirits. The causality of the world is spirit. Spirit is zero; from zero comes all things, from all things returns to zero. Cultivation is to achieve the starry sea of the firmament, to return to simplicity and truth. Only by reversing the cycle of life can one stand upon the heavens. In the creation of the world, there is no spirit; the way against heaven grants you the realm of no spirit. All things in the world are as emptiness to you.”

Shen Wan could not comprehend a word of it—his mind was a mess.

“Did you understand?” the blurry figure asked again.

Shen Wan shook his head dumbly.

The figure paused. “Fine, I’ll say it once more.”

Again, that clear, resonant voice echoed in his ears, as if from a surround-sound system.

When it finished speaking, the figure looked at him again.

Shen Wan stared at it and mumbled, “Could you put it a bit more plainly?”

“Damn!” The figure’s robe suddenly fluttered, then fell silent once more. “In other words, from now on, anything in this world containing spiritual energy will be ordinary to you, like air. You are the only one in the universe with the realm of no spirit! You cannot cultivate by absorbing the world’s spirit; all spiritual energy is immune to you. You may—no, you already understand. Farewell!”

Before Shen Wan could respond, the figure suddenly twisted and vanished.

Once again, he was surrounded by deep darkness.

...

“The realm of no spirit...” Shen Wan tried to recall every detail from that day. He still didn’t understand the meaning of the figure’s words. But if this was not a dream, then the scroll he had perused was truly a divine object.

And he had burned the divine object...

“Goddammit!”

Shen Wan was instantly dumbfounded. He remembered the old fraud—no, the old immortal—telling him of the scroll’s uniqueness, urging him to study it carefully. Yet he, oblivious fool that he was, had burned it.

Rubbing his forehead, Shen Wan felt utterly defeated. “Those years in high school were wasted. What a great old man he was. Such a pity.”

If the Ascendant Taoist, off in some distant place, could hear this, he would probably weep. He would also change Shen Wan from someone he’d never want to see in this life to someone he’d never want to see in the next.

Little did he know that at this moment, in Shen Wan’s heart, the Taoist’s image was being elevated to an unattainable height...

“Immortal bearing, elegance, kingly aura...” Whatever words he could use, Shen Wan applied all of them to the Ascendant Taoist.

“Right, if the old immortal never returns, then those things he left on the island...” Shen Wan remembered that when the Ascendant Taoist left, he hadn’t taken with him what he considered to be “scraps” lying on the ground.

At this thought, Shen Wan began pounding the crocodile’s guts, shouting, “Go back! Go back! Take me back to that little island!”

Seeing the silhouette of the continent ahead, the little crocodile wept. With a mournful turn, it swam once more toward that godforsaken little island.

Feeling the shift in direction, Shen Wan relaxed and rolled over again. Things had come to this, and the recent events were so bizarre that his mind was stretched to the breaking point.

Since he could not figure anything out, he decided not to dwell on it. Better to get a good sleep and ask someone about it in the future.

Clearing his mind of all clutter, and perhaps exhausted from overthinking, Shen Wan quickly drifted into a deep sleep...

Meanwhile, on the surface of the ocean, the little crocodile swam on, its eyes brimming with tears.

Its legs were killing it!

...

More than a month later, at the shore of Valley Continent.

The little crocodile, utterly spent, finally crawled onto the land. With a rumble of its stomach, it spat Shen Wan out of its mouth.

Shen Wan was still asleep at the time, but suddenly a tremendous force seized him, and he was thrust out into the light of day.

The blinding sunlight struck his face, forcing him to bury his head in the sand as he retched violently. Gasping for breath, it took him a long moment to adjust.

Looking at the wide, endless beach before him, Shen Wan was filled with emotion. He wasn’t sure whether he should declare, “I’m back again!” or simply, “I’ve arrived!” Either way, he couldn’t come up with a suitable line after holding it in for so long.

Glancing back at the little crocodile, which was about to turn and escape, Shen Wan hurriedly stopped it.

“Hey, don’t go! I don’t know a soul here. You’re my only friend—let’s stick together!”

If the crocodile could speak, it would have said, “Friend, my ass!”

Its eyes were misty and full of grievance. It once had a master, and now it was all alone. It was all this human’s fault! This wretched creature had even roasted it over a fire on the island, and yet the crocodile had borne no grudge and had graciously brought him back. Not only that, but it had made the trip twice. Its limbs were about to give out!

It thought itself so kind, so lovable.

But why did this guy always push his luck? Did kindness really mean being bullied?

The crocodile cast a resentful glance at Shen Wan, as if to say, “I never want to see you again!”

Then, with a twist of its body, it plunged into the sea.

On its back, a crab gave Shen Wan a menacing snap of its claws.

Watching the little crocodile swim away, Shen Wan felt a pang of reluctance. Sensing the look in its eyes, he thought, “It must be reluctant to leave me too.” He shamelessly nodded to himself, then turned to face the strange world before him and sighed deeply.

...

Lin Bufan, a disciple of Owe-Mystic Sect, a third-rate sect of Valley Continent.

He had joined the sect eight years ago, and his cultivation was at the fourth level of the Spirit-Concentration Realm—a veritable good-for-nothing among his peers.

At this moment, he held his breath, his entire focus locked on a hundred-year-old Blue Flame Turtle lying on the beach. The turtle was nestled in a huge pit, its body trembling occasionally as it laid its eggs.

Lin Bufan was on the verge of advancing to the fifth level of the Spirit-Concentration Realm. To ensure a smooth breakthrough, he needed a Spirit-Firming Pill, which required a Blue Flame Turtle egg as one of its ingredients.

He had been lying in wait here for over a month for the sake of this egg.

At last, his patience was about to be rewarded. After laying its eggs, the Blue Flame Turtle would coat them in a layer of icy blue saliva. This saliva was so cold that anyone of insufficient cultivation who touched it would be frozen instantly. Crucially, after laying its final egg, the turtle would be utterly depleted for three breaths’ time, after which it would recover its strength.

Therefore, to steal the egg, one had to act within those three breaths after the last egg was laid.

Over the past month, Lin Bufan had carefully plotted the perfect escape route and set up layers of traps along the way. After all, a century-old Blue Flame Turtle was equivalent to a practitioner above the eighth level of the Spirit-Concentration Realm. Lin Bufan knew he had no hope of defeating it head-on.

Watching the turtle lay egg after egg, Lin Bufan scarcely dared to breathe, beads of sweat gathering on his brow.

One stick of incense, two, three... After nearly three hours of waiting, he finally saw the turtle arch its body—a telltale sign that it was about to lay its final egg.

Lin Bufan’s eyes gleamed with anticipation, his spirit focused like never before. Moments later, the turtle’s body convulsed sharply!

“Now!” Lin Bufan channeled his spiritual power, a gust of wind swirling at his feet.

But just as he was about to spring forward, a hand clapped his shoulder.

Startled, he whirled around.

“Hey, brother, can I ask you something?” Shen Wan smiled with an innocent, harmless air.

Lin Bufan’s pupils shrank.

He spun back only to see the giant Blue Flame Turtle humming cheerfully as it lovingly coated its precious eggs in saliva...

Lin Bufan’s heart trembled. He broke down and wept.