Chapter Seventy-Four: The Cave Dwelling

Seeing the flood of supportive comments in the review section, Nan Chao was deeply moved. This book was not written in vain… Let me mention something: after Chapter 4, barring any surprises, I’ll be looking for an assistant moderator to help manage the review section. The requirements are being online frequently, having enthusiasm, and possessing a certain level of fan value. When the time comes, everyone is welcome to apply, and I’ll select the best candidate!

The Reclining Pine Cave was nothing more than a cavern hewn into a sheer cliff. The interior had been hollowed out to form a stone chamber nearly a hundred square meters in size.

The furnishings within were exceedingly simple—only what the surroundings provided: a stone bed, a stone table, and two stone stools, all carved from the rock itself. In addition, there were two woven bamboo mats for meditation.

This place was so well hidden that ordinary people could never find it. Even Ying Ning had only stumbled upon it by chance while playing as a child.

Though the stone chamber was plain, it was swept spotless, clean and dry, giving a sense of comfort. A skylight had been cut at an angle, allowing sunlight or moonlight to stream in. Just outside the entrance was a slightly protruding stone platform, polished smooth—Ying Ning would sit there almost every night, breathing in the moon’s essence.

Ordinary demons advanced their cultivation by absorbing the vital blood and energy of humans—a path considered heretical. Only those who inherited orthodox Daoist teachings could draw on the essence of sun and moon.

As soon as they landed, the rat demon sniffed the air and immediately detected an unusually rich spiritual energy. Delighted, it rolled on the ground several times and ran about, breathing deeply, ravenous for more.

Heaven and earth contain spiritual energy, but due to geography, some places are sparse while others are richer. The densest spiritual energy resides where ley lines are found.

Yet true ley lines are rare in this world, difficult to find. Most sects and cultivation schools are built where ley lines exist. In the wild, untamed places, such veins are as rare as phoenix feathers.

Within Reclining Pine Cave, only a short fragment of a ley line existed—insufficient to be complete—so it produced concentrated spiritual energy only within the cave itself, over a very small area. But for one person, it was enough.

It was due to the cave’s rich spiritual energy that Ying Ning’s cultivation could progress by leaps and bounds, saving and shortening much of the arduous training time.

As for spiritual energy, Chen Jianchen truly had no understanding and could not sense it directly. He merely felt the air inside the stone chamber was exceptionally fresh and pleasant. Taking a deep breath, he felt invigorated.

Looking around, he couldn’t help but marvel at the simplicity and resolve of these cultivators—truly living beyond the dust of the mortal world, enduring endless loneliness and solitude, tirelessly pursuing the path to immortality. Even if they died nameless and alone in the wilderness, they had no regrets. And if one should encounter great fortune and glimpse the Dao, by then the human world would have changed beyond recognition, the ages passed, as the poem says:

“Birds, O birds, Ding Lingwei,
Left home a thousand years, returned today.
The city remains, but the people have changed—
Why not learn from the immortals, whose tombs are heaped high?”

Chirp, chirp!

Ying Ning leapt onto the stone bed and beckoned with her hand.

Chen Jianchen walked over and noticed, near the head of the stone bed, close to the wall, a section of stalactite had formed, as if by the hand of the gods. Below it sat a crystal-clear jade cup.

Plop!

At intervals, a drop of liquid would fall from the tip of the stalactite into the cup.

At this moment, the cup was half full of liquid, milky white and shimmering, with a beautiful and enticing appearance.

Chirp, chirp!

Ying Ning pointed at the cup, indicating for Chen Jianchen to drink from it. The rat demon also hopped over and stood nearby. Far more discerning than Chen Jianchen, its beady eyes were glued to the cup, drooling, as if it wanted to leap in and bathe in the liquid.

Following Ying Ning’s instructions, Chen Jianchen took the cup and sipped. Sweetness met his tongue, and the dryness in his throat vanished instantly. The refreshing sensation was like eating a piece of ice in the height of summer—he felt as if every pore in his body had opened, leaving him utterly relaxed and content.

Delicious! Could this be the legendary nectar of immortals?

Were it not for the rat demon’s presence, Chen Jianchen would have drunk it all in one gulp.

“Here, Xiaoyi, this is for you.”

He pushed the cup toward the little rat.

The rat demon was overjoyed, bowing repeatedly in thanks. It too knew proper manners, and instead of hastily drinking from the jade cup, it first asked Ying Ning for permission, then fetched an ordinary porcelain bowl. Pouring the liquid from the jade cup into the bowl, it drank with relish. When finished, it even stuck its head inside, licking the bowl clean and treasuring every drop.

After asking, Chen Jianchen learned from Ying Ning that this liquid was spiritual dew produced by the stalactite. A full cup could be collected each day. Drinking it regularly would strengthen the body and prolong life.

At that moment, Ying Ning seemed to recall something. She took out a small piece of cloth, neither silk nor brocade, and, bringing out needle and thread, began to sew with practiced hands.

She could sew too!

Chen Jianchen realized his capacity for surprise was still not exhausted. Watching Ying Ning sit there, prim as a young girl, deftly working her needle, filled him with quiet astonishment.

Very soon, Ying Ning had sewn a tiny vest and presented it to Xiaoyi as a gift for her little brother upon their first meeting.

Xiaoyi accepted it, deeply moved to the point of tears, and quickly put the vest on.

Seeing the little rat demon in its vest, both adorable and a touch comical, Chen Jianchen was immediately reminded of all those classic cartoon mice from the television of his previous life.

Well, the past is gone and will never return. What matters is treasuring the present.

As night deepened, Chen Jianchen lay down to sleep, while Ying Ning, eager to take on the role of “master,” called Xiaoyi aside. First, she produced a stick of sandalwood incense as thick as a finger, lit it, and placed it in a censer. This incense had the effect of calming and protecting the soul, ensuring the spirit would not be harmed during astral travel.

Then, both let their spirits leave their bodies, for only in this state could Daoist teachings be passed on most effectively.

Xiaoyi’s spirit form was that of a short, plump boy—chubby and endearing, far clearer and more solid than during his first venture. Ying Ning’s spirit form was a young girl in white, appearing thirteen or fourteen, delicate and beautiful, her features like a painting—such a form could not be achieved casually, nor changed once formed. When their cultivation deepened enough to take on human form, they would look just like this.

Yet for a demon to assume a human shape required reaching the Nascent Soul stage, which, under normal circumstances, took five hundred years of cultivation.

“Greetings, elder sister!” Xiaoyi greeted her politely.

“Hee hee, Xiaoyi, you’re such a plump little thing—you must be very fond of eating…”

With their spirits outside their bodies, their conversation was undetectable to Chen Jianchen, unless the two demons entered his own soul. But the rat demon dared not act rashly, for if Chen Jianchen sensed any spirit approaching, the sword of righteous energy within him would instantly manifest to protect its master.

The Sword of Vast Righteousness!

By now, that sword must have grown even stronger.