Chapter Forty-Six: Yan Qingye Wishes to Journey to the Immortal Realm

“She went to the Immortal Realm.” Yuxi Yue took out the Divine Domain Map, hesitated for a moment, then put it back into her spatial earring.

Yan Qingye stole a glance at Yuxi Yue, frowned, and felt a pang of sourness in his heart. “Little Master, are you going to the Immortal Realm?”

“When Feng Qinghe becomes clan chief,” Yuxi Yue replied calmly.

“Oh.” Yan Qingye visibly wilted. Wouldn’t that be soon? As soon as she defeated Feng Tianwu, it would be done.

Jun Yang immediately sensed the room grow much quieter, even a little chilly. He had grown accustomed to Yan Qingye’s constant chirping, and the sudden silence felt strange.

After about a quarter of an hour in silence, Jun Yang couldn’t hold back any longer and just as he was about to offer some comfort, he noticed a sly grin suddenly blossoming on Yan Qingye’s face.

That grin made Jun Yang, who already felt the room’s temperature drop, shiver twice.

Yan Qingye quickly suppressed his smile, then poked Jun Yang with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Senior Jun Yang.”

Jun Yang forced a smile, thinking, Now he’s set his sights on me?

“What is it?”

Yan Qingye sneaked another look at Yuxi Yue, who sat with her eyes closed, then sidled a little closer to Jun Yang.

“I still have some Monkey Wine left. Would you like a drink?”

Jun Yang’s eyes lit up. “You’re a sly one, aren’t you?”

“Heh heh.” Yan Qingye got up, bent over like a thief, tiptoed to the door, and beckoned conspiratorially. “Come on, Senior Jun Yang.”

Jun Yang raised an eyebrow and strode out after him. What a furtive little imp, as if their little ancestor couldn’t hear? He shook his head helplessly and followed Yan Qingye to the pavilion.

Yan Qingye set the Monkey Wine on the table. Instantly, the aroma of the wine filled the air, seeming out of place in the stifling atmosphere that had burdened the Phoenix Clan for days.

Yuxi Yue, naturally aware of their little scheme, furrowed her brows in puzzlement and raised her hand to cast a barrier, sealing the guesthouse from the drifting scent of wine.

Jun Yang took a few contented sips, then caught the hesitant look in Yan Qingye’s eyes from the corner of his eye and nearly choked on his drink.

He coughed. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

Yan Qingye, who had been at a loss for how to begin, put on a fawning smile at Jun Yang’s invitation. “Senior Jun Yang...”

Even his voice wavered twice.

The obsequiousness sent goosebumps crawling up Jun Yang’s arms. “Act normal!”

Yan Qingye straightened, a bit aggrieved but more serious now. “I want to go to the Immortal Realm with you.”

“You know the requirements to enter the Immortal Realm.”

“Is there really no other way?” Yan Qingye topped off Jun Yang’s cup with Monkey Wine.

Jun Yang licked his lips, feeling that he couldn’t refuse after accepting the boy’s hospitality.

He looked at the brimming cup on the table, unsure whether to reach for it or not.

“Senior Jun Yang, this is the last jar of Monkey Wine I have,” Yan Qingye coaxed.

Jun Yang caved, picked up the cup, and drained it in one go.

“You should know, there’s only one way from the Upper Realm to the Immortal Realm—the Heavenly Tribulation Stair. And only those who’ve reached the Immortal King’s cultivation can climb it.”

“I know, you’ve said so before... But by the time I become an Immortal King, you and Little Master will probably have forgotten who I am.”

Jun Yang sipped some more wine, savoring it with an air of profundity. “The little ancestor has a Life-Bound Island.”

“Life-Bound Island? What’s that?” Yan Qingye asked, surprised.

“Let me finish,” Jun Yang replied.

“Oh, yes. Please, go on.”

“That island is saturated with spiritual energy. Cultivation there is hundreds of times faster than in the Divine Realm.”

Yan Qingye couldn’t help but interject, “Even so, a few hundred times faster won’t let me reach Immortal King in a short time.”

Jun Yang shot him a glare. “It’s hundreds of times faster than in the Divine Realm, and the Upper Realm’s energy is so thin—you’ve never noticed?”

Yan Qingye opened his mouth, then closed it again. Honestly, he hadn’t noticed; he’d never been to the Divine Realm.

He looked at Jun Yang expectantly. “So, Senior Jun Yang, if I go to that island, how long would it take to reach Immortal King?”

“At least two months.”

“Two months? But Senior Brother can’t fight Feng Tianwu for two months straight.”

Jun Yang flicked Yan Qingye’s forehead hard. “Are you trying to work your senior brother to death? Two months of fighting, as if you could come up with that!”

“Little Master surely won’t wait two months for me,” Yan Qingye muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“You can stay on the island for two months, and when you reach Immortal King, come out, climb the Heavenly Tribulation Stair, go to the Immortal Realm, and then travel freely between the Upper and Immortal Realms.”

“Will Little Master let me set foot on the island?”

“I doubt it,” Jun Yang said.

Yan Qingye shot to his feet. “Then what was the point of telling me all this?!”

Jun Yang pulled him back down. “I haven’t finished. Why are you always in such a hurry?”

“Then please, go on.”

“First, to set foot on the island, you must enter a master-servant contract with the little ancestor. Do you agree?”

Yan Qingye hesitated at the mention of the contract—would his father kill him for this?

After some thought, he made up his mind. “I can.”

“Good. Next, the little ancestor has her own conditions for agreeing to the contract.” Jun Yang cast a secretive look at Yuxi Yue’s room before leaning in to whisper, “Become an alchemist.”

“What? But I have a Wind Spiritual Root... That’s not suited for alchemy.”

“Alchemy has nothing to do with your spiritual root,” Jun Yang replied.

“But alchemy requires fire—only those with Fire Roots are suitable.”

Jun Yang looked at him in disdain. “Nonsense! Remember that Ghost Dream Yin-Yang Pill the little ancestor gave Yuan Yibai?”

“Of course I remember! It was a divine-grade, eighth-tier pill.” Yan Qingye looked confused. “But what does that have to do with it?”

“The alchemist who refined that pill also had a Wind Spiritual Root.”

“What?!” Yan Qingye was stunned.

“Would I lie to you?”

“Then why does Little Master require me to become an alchemist as a condition for the master-servant contract?” Yan Qingye pressed.

Jun Yang straightened up, unwilling to say more. “I can only tell you after you’ve entered the contract with the little ancestor.”

With that, he returned to Yuxi Yue’s room, leaving Yan Qingye dazed in the pavilion.

As Jun Yang walked in, he saw Yuxi Yue staring at him expressionlessly.

He scratched his head awkwardly. “That kid is quite amusing. Wouldn’t it be more fun to have some company on the road?”

Yuxi Yue pursed her lips but said nothing.

She was indeed a bit somber. Having someone to keep Jun Yang company wouldn’t hurt.

If Yan Qingye really could become an alchemist, that wouldn’t be so bad either. At least he was good-natured and free of malice, which fulfilled one of that person’s requirements.

As for the rest, it could only be left to fate.

Yan Qingye stayed in the pavilion until past midnight before finally running back to the Thirty-Sixth Continent.

In the dead of night, Yan Yaofeng was dreaming sweetly when Yan Qingye’s racket woke him.

Yan Qingye was pounding on the door to his father’s room. “Dad! Dad! Open up! I have something to say!”

Yan Yaofeng kicked off his quilt in irritation and stormed to the door.

“You’d better have a good reason for this!”

Yan Qingye wore a solemn expression, tinged with an uncharacteristic gloom.

“What’s happened?” Yan Yaofeng was surprised to see his son looking so serious.

“I... I want to go to the Immortal Realm with Little Master.”