Chapter 1289: Petals of the same flower(2)

Koi Lantern Cafe

“Seems like you enjoyed yourself,” said a woman who looked to be in her early fifties, a genial, warm smile on her face as she addressed an old man with a toothy grin, joyfully patting two jars of wine as though they were his most prized treasures.

“I got two free jars of wine and the company of an interesting person,” the old man chuckled.

Were Yang Qing here, he would have recognized the old man immediately—it was none other than Cheng Yun.

“Where are you off to now?” the woman asked, watching as Cheng Yun patted his robes before rising with the grace of a cat, slinging the two jars of wine over his shoulder.

“Not off to scam wine from others, I hope,” she added with a sigh of exasperation.

“If I’m lucky, little Bai,” Cheng Yun prattled with a laugh. “Next time,” he added, waving as he headed out.

A few steps later, he suddenly turned back. “Oh, this is for your hospitality,” he said, tossing a silvery-golden object that landed neatly in the woman’s hands.

She smiled awkwardly as she looked at the object—it was a cylindrical crystal with swirling waves of gold and silver that radiated with an ethereal charm. If one looked closely, they could faintly see the golden and silver currents swirl together, forming the image of a dragon before dispersing once more, subtle, faint roars echoing from within.

She murmured, “Who pays dragon jade for just using a chair and a table?”

That single gold-silver cylindrical crystal was worth ten thousand high-grade spirit stones. Yet few would ever make such a trade. After all, dragon jade was something produced only by a dragon spiritual vein, which instead of producing spirit stones, condensed its spiritual essence into these crystals.

A single piece could support an early-stage Palace Realm expert’s cultivation for five years. Unlike spirit stones, it didn’t merely provide spiritual qi—its purity was a thousand times more refined than that of high-grade spirit stones. The essence stored within also strengthened the soul while at the same time granting a cultivator contact with the distilled essence of the Grand Dao itself. That, more than anything, was its greatest benefit, especially to Palace Realm experts and above.

Even those below, particularly cultivators at the peak of Core Formation, considered it priceless. Refining dragon jade and absorbing its essence could raise their odds of reaching the Palace Realm astronomically.

This was part of the reason powerful organizations could continuously churn out talents—or draw them in. Dragon jades took far longer to form compared to spirit stones, with lesser dragon spirit veins said to produce only five or six in a hundred years. But those mere five or six could mean five or six new Palace Realm experts being born, or five or six Palace Realm experts advancing their cultivation even further thanks to the power of dragon jade.

Though few in number, the effects of dragon jade far surpassed what even a mountain of spirit stones could accomplish. Both their potency and their quantity grew alongside the strength of the dragon spirit vein.

An ancestral dragon vein, for example, produced dragon jades of a lesser vein’s quality almost every other day—like refuse. More than that, it also birthed unique dragon jades whose worth was no different from that of a saint-grade treasure. These, however, took close to a millennium to form, and only one emerged each time. Yet the wait was well worth it, especially for Domain experts, for such a jade could refine and strengthen their domains while granting insights crucial to their breakthrough into the Soul Formation Realm.

And that was only one of its uses.

If just a single ancestral dragon jade crystal were dropped into a river, that river and its surroundings would instantly transform into a blessed ground rivaling—or even surpassing—that produced by a lesser dragon vein. And if one wished to evolve a lesser dragon vein into a mature one, using an ancestral dragon jade crystal would guarantee success without fail. Not only would the evolution be assured, but there was also a high chance that a middle-tier or even top-tier ascendant-grade treasure would immediately form as a result.

Dragon jade crystals were just that precious, more so those from a mature dragon vein or an ancestral one. The one handed to the old woman, called Little Bai, was from a lesser dragon jade crystal.

“I do,” Cheng Yun smugly replied to the old woman’s mutterings about using the crystal to settle a bill. “Besides, if I didn’t, I’d be leaving myself open to be verbally abused by your poison-tongued father,” he added with a snort.

“You two…” she sighed, shaking her head wearily. “How long do you both intend to keep this up?”

“Until he calls me ancestor,” Cheng Yun said matter-of-factly before a sleazy smile crept across his lips. “Once I break through to the soul formation realm, he’ll have no choice. That old geezer can’t possibly catch up to me there—and even if he does, I’ll already have a head start. I’ll torment him until he does.”

Chuckling gleefully, Cheng Yun’s figure vanished into the crowd outside, his triumphant laughter lingering behind.

“How could our founder be so despicable?” said the middle-aged woman with another shake of her head. Her smile grew even more weary as she thought of another old man who matched him in shamelessness—her own father.

In Hebei, however, he was known by another title. He was the Dean of the Hebei Imperial National Academy and one of the most powerful cultivators in the kingdom, second only to the kingdom’s founder.

Most within the kingdom revered and even idolized these two figures as the very image of what a true scholar should be. Little did they know the truth, a truth only a few like her were aware of: the two were narrow-minded and petty, especially toward one another.

Down the streets Cheng Yun whistled off-key as he sauntered along with a swing in his step. With every stride, his body seemed to shift. His slouched back straightened, and he even seemed to grow taller, towering over most of those he passed. His gait shed its rogue-like looseness and became graceful. His wiry silver hair turned into a cascading, smooth silver hair that reached his back and shimmered under the sun. His rough beard vanished, along with his wrinkles and murky eyes. In their place was a youthful, handsome face that carried an air of elegance and grace, with eyes that sparkled with wisdom.

His robes transformed into flowing silk of deep purple, and at his side, the pommel of a sword swayed with each step, a moonlit orchid dangling from it like a tassel, swaying in and out of view.

What had moments ago been a husk of a body drying out was now a bamboo shoot brimming with vigor, vitality, and a spirit vast as the heavens themselves.

“Yang Qing…” said the now-transformed Cheng Yun, his voice gentle, clear, and warm, yet carrying a soft penetrative quality, as if it could echo in the hearts of all who heard it. “I wonder what stories you’ll create. Hopefully, next time I’ll have some more for you,” he added wistfully.

“Soul formation realm,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Time for another adventure.”

His figure faded into nothingness, leaving behind white petals that swirled as though they were carried by a breeze.