Chapter 116: Fellow Daoist

Using the miraculous escape technique from the Nine-Character Mantra Pill Scripture, Ji Hao concealed the presence of his companion, Crow Elder, and quietly left Cold Creek Valley.

Crow Elder had suffered severe injuries some days ago. Although most of his wounds had healed, the muscles at the base of his wings still ached unbearably, making flight impossible. Amidst the torrential downpour, Ji Hao cradled the shrunken Crow Elder in his arms, performing the escape technique to transform into a mist-like, blurry figure, swiftly traversing through the dense forest.

The world was suffused with dense water-element energy. Ji Hao employed the innate Spirit Water Escape, feeling like a fish returning to the sea, freely swaying and darting. Within a day and night, they traveled thousands of miles.

Ji Yao was one of the eldest elders of the Fire Crow Tribe, and in the Southern Wasteland, an elder who lived long enough was the tribe’s greatest treasure—knowledgeable and well-versed in many hidden secrets.

For instance, in a secret valley deep within the mountains, fifty thousand miles from Cold Creek Valley, there stood a small war fortress secretly established by the Sacred Flame Kingdom. It was perpetually guarded by divine sentinels and housed a teleportation array directly linked to the heartland of the Sacred Flame Kingdom. Such classified information was beyond the knowledge of ordinary barbarian tribes in the Southern Wasteland.

“Crow Elder, if we keep moving day and night without rest, we should arrive in about seven days,” Ji Hao said softly, handing Crow Elder a medicinal pill made from green aconite.

Crow Elder flapped his wings irritably and let out a low, listless “caw.” A mere fifty thousand miles was a trivial distance; if he could exert full strength, he could reach it within an hour. But now, he had to rely entirely on Ji Hao’s efforts.

Originally, Cold Creek Valley could have lent Ji Hao one of Ji Yao’s contracted Fire Crows, but Ji Yao had fought fiercely with enemies multiple times recently. His contracted Fire Crows were severely wounded and undergoing urgent recovery. The crucial rescue operation that would determine the fate of Cold Creek Valley had to depend solely on Ji Hao.

“All right, Crow Elder, rest easy and recover. Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll wipe out those stinking snake folk... Tell me, should we head to Pufan now, or wait for Brother Abao to return?” Ji Hao asked.

Crow Elder’s eyes widened as he fell into deep contemplation.

Day turned to night, night to day—three days and nights slipped by in the blink of an eye. Ji Hao ran tirelessly through the mountains and forests, covering over twenty thousand miles. With the aid of the Nine-Character Mantra Pill Scripture’s marvels and the cover of heavy rain, he narrowly avoided several territories of dangerous beasts, having already passed the halfway mark.

Crow Elder took the green aconite medicine continuously, recovering much of his strength. Perched on Ji Hao’s shoulder, he frequently flapped his wings, signaling that with another half to full day of rest, he could barely manage to fly.

Though his speed would certainly not match his prime, it would still far outpace Ji Hao’s current pace.

After another relentless half-day sprint, Ji Hao suddenly stopped, exhaling heavily. A dense cloud of turbid, scorching breath sprayed out over dozens of yards, instantly vaporizing every raindrop along its path. A white mist, as thick as a bucket, quickly formed within the rain.

Taking several deep breaths, Ji Hao formed hand seals. The surrounding energy of heaven and earth surged into his body, continuously absorbed by his Purple Mansion Golden Pill. The massive exertion had already consumed over ninety percent of the pill’s power. Regulating his breath, Ji Hao’s energy was gradually restoring.

Within a hundred yards around him, the trajectories of falling raindrops began to twist strangely. Each droplet spiraled gently before touching the ground, merging softly with the puddles without a single splash.

Even the usual pattering sound of rain had vanished. The forest within several miles around Ji Hao was eerily silent—no wind stirred, no trees moved, no leaves trembled, and the raindrops slowed steadily, many seeming to freeze midair.

Communing his soul with the cosmos, every movement Ji Hao made altered the atmosphere. After condensing the Nine-Character Mantra Pill Scripture into a golden pill, each breath and gesture summoned strange phenomena. While focusing on fully restoring his pill energy, he paid no mind to these uncanny scenes.

Several miles away, the rain suddenly parted to the left and right. Two young men dressed in simple white coarse linen clothes, barefoot, their long hair flowing, emerged cleanly through the rain, each bearing a bamboo staff.

With every step they took, it seemed as though an invisible force lifted their bodies, for despite traversing a long distance through the forest, their bare feet remained immaculate without a trace of mud or water.

Tall and handsome, their noses sharply defined and eyes sunken, their features sculpted with striking relief, their eyes shone with radiant light. Each movement exuded an indescribable, mysterious charm, like whirlpools drawing all attention.

Wearing faint smiles, the two suddenly floated lightly off the ground, standing atop a tall tree, gazing towards the strange phenomena caused by Ji Hao’s energy restoration miles away. The previously carefree smiles faded; their expressions darkened.

“Heaven and man as one, perfectly natural. This youth’s cultivation is astonishing and admirable.”

“I wonder whose disciple he is? To find such a remarkable figure in the Southern Wasteland is unexpected. So young, yet so accomplished.”

“Who else could it be? The vast power of heaven and earth rushes like birds into a forest, accepting none but their own. Such a technique—aside from these few families and these barbarian tribes in the Southern Wasteland—who else could possess such divine arts? Whoever it is, it’s certainly not ours.”

“If not ours, then he truly deserves to die.”

The two exchanged low laughter, glanced at each other, nodded, and lightly kicked off the treetop, silently advancing toward Ji Hao on the wind.

They approached without a sound, closing in—five miles, three miles, two miles…

When just one mile away, the breeze stirred by their bodies accidentally brushed a raindrop suspended in the air. Ji Hao shivered violently, like an old spider perched in the center of its web, sensing the slightest tremor at the edge of its threads. His eyes snapped open sharply, shooting a fierce glance toward the disturbed raindrop.

Within the sacred mountain forest, two young men in flowing white robes, their hair streaming and faces grinning strangely, approached side by side on the wind. Alert, Ji Hao instinctively formed a hand seal. Thick mist swirled into his palms and transformed into a silent Gui Water Divine Thunder.

At the moment the divine thunder was unleashed, Ji Hao recalled many strange ancient legends from his past life—after all, these two men’s strange attire and silent movements, their unnaturally fair skin as if powdered, were unlike anything he’d seen in the Southern Wasteland.

No one here had such flawless, handsome features!

The Gui Water Divine Thunder struck silently but with incredible speed. A fist-sized black lightning flash shot instantly before the two, then exploded without a sound. Its relentless, bone-piercing yin force spread like a tidal wave in all directions.

The two young men, smiling broadly as they flew forward, suddenly had their white robes torn apart by the Gui Water Yin Thunder, revealing inner shirts made of fine white silk. Streams of white treasure light burst forth from the shirts, firmly resisting the gentle power of the watery thunder.

“Fellow Daoist, please hold your hand!” they exclaimed in unison.

“Fellow Daoist?” Ji Hao raised an eyebrow. “Brothers, what exactly is this ‘fellow Daoist’ you speak of? Is it something edible?”

Ji Hao was determined to play dumb to the end.

***

“Fellow Daoist, please wait!” At last, this cliché has arrived!

Quite satisfying!