Chapter 33: Shooting Sun Bone Arrows, Studying Reproduction

At this moment, Xuan Qing truly wished he could sober up and properly converse with his master. Spiritual roots alone are not enough—you need spiritual treasures too. The value of innate spiritual treasures was just as immense.

What surprised him even more was that his master had removed ten bone arrows and used them to barter with the Witch Race. So those ten arrows… are they the future Sun-Shooting Arrows? The very ones that nearly wiped out the entire Golden Crow lineage?

Xuan Qing pondered silently. He wanted to resist, but Hou Tu had seized him tightly. Escape was impossible. All he could do was watch helplessly as his master handed over the ten Sun-Shooting Arrows in exchange for spiritual roots.

And not just a few. Twelve in total.

Alongside the banana tree, there were divine trees of the five elements, an Enlightenment Tea Tree, an Innate Pear Tree… a variety of spiritual roots, each with unique qualities. A few were supreme-grade, and the rest were among the top-tier roots. It was practically a one-to-one exchange—one Sun-Shooting Arrow per spiritual root. Yet the Witch Race was generous. They even offered two additional roots, free of charge.

The deal was smooth, and both parties were satisfied. A simple exchange, and centuries passed just like that.

The time during the Flood Era is truly meaningless. Hundreds of years vanish in a drink and a conversation.

During those centuries, Xuan Qing had long since sobered. But escaping Hou Tu’s grip remained impossible.

He had never expected Hou Tu to be like this. He had once thought of her as a gentle older sister. Who would have imagined—like Nuwa, Hou Tu was a witch through and through?

Xuan Qing’s face had been pinched and rubbed for what felt like ages. His expression was one of complex suffering.

“So, Sister Hou Tu… can you let go now? It’s been hundreds of years since you started hugging me. I am… not comfortable.”

“Hehehe… Little Xuan Qing, you’re not comfortable? I am comfortable,” Hou Tu giggled mischievously. “Your chubby little face is so fun to squish! But what intrigues me the most is—how did you, a Houtian being, come into existence? What creation is hidden in your body? If I can figure that out, maybe we can solve the Witch Race’s problem with reproduction.”

Xuan Qing sighed inwardly. So that’s it.

Emotionally, Hou Tu had been pondering the Witch Race’s reproductive problem for ages. Among the Twelve Ancestral Witches, her Earthly Dao was the gentlest, infused with thick vitality. After all, Pangu had evolved the Flood, and the Earth was teeming with creation. Hou Tu alone could connect with that force and sense the power of life.

Thus, she had become the Witch Race’s lead researcher into reproduction—constantly searching for methods to ensure the race’s survival. Yet despite all her efforts, no viable method had emerged.

Until now.

Now she had Xuan Qing, a living puzzle of postnatal formation. He was like a key, possibly unlocking a path to reproduction for the Witches. So she clung to him, analyzing him, probing for secrets.

Naturally, Xuan Qing resisted. What is even going on? Nuwa had gotten close to him in search of the Dao of Creation. Now Hou Tu wanted him for the method of reproduction?

Am I that popular?

The whole affair was bizarre beyond belief. Xuan Qing grew increasingly depressed. And when he thought about how the countless Violet Skyscraper cultivators were still spying on him—either to eat him or steal him away—he felt nothing but exhaustion.

Sigh… All he could do was endure it.

Meanwhile, Laozi and the others engaged in a discussion that revealed many hidden truths.

“Fellow Daoist Taiqing,” Emperor Jiang said, “In recent years, Lord Dongwang has made quite a name for himself. By searching for demonized dragon veins and purifying them, he’s created several blessed lands and rescued many races. Quite a few cultivators now follow him.”

“Duke Dongwang?” Laozi flicked his beard. “That was my master’s command—to purge the demonized dragon veins. He does require help. Those veins have corrupted many cultivators, turning them demonic. And the remnants of the Demon Cult will not sit idly by while the Duke of Dongwang acts freely.”

“Indeed,” Candle Jiuyin added. “Since the end of the Dao-Devil War, the Devil Dao’s core was sealed and obliterated. But many remnants remain, hiding deep within the Flood. Hard to find, yet still dangerous. Now that Dongwang is working to purify the last of the demonized veins, he’s severing the final root of the Devil Dao. Those remnants will certainly retaliate.”

From just a few words, Xuan Qing realized that many devil remnants still lurked throughout the Flood. The Dao-Devil War may have destroyed the core, but devils were vast in number. Even now, the demonized dragon veins continue to corrupt life and convert devil cultivators.

So of course, Dongwang Gong’s crusade would provoke them.

No wonder he had to unite the various Purple Skyscrapers and scattered cultivators.

In the blink of an eye, yet another few hundred years passed.

Taiqing was ready to leave. Hou Tu finally released Xuan Qing, though her gaze lingered with a hint of research still unresolved. While her eyes lacked the peeping greed of the Violet Skyscraper cultivators, being held for centuries had left Xuan Qing a bit traumatized.

Led by Laozi, Xuan Qing departed from Buzhou Mountain. Only now did he finally feel a sense of relief.

“Finally… I can go home. The outside world is too dangerous,” he muttered.

Laozi chuckled softly, recalling something Tongtian had once said. “Disciple… your temperament is rather stable.”

Xuan Qing gave an awkward laugh. He could not deny it. Every trip outside ended with him being dragged into some disaster. “Master, Master… you don’t have to tease me. I know I was wrong. But I have a question. Why did you only trade for spiritual roots and not for spiritual treasures? Also, how did the Witch Clan come to possess so many spirit roots?”

“Disciple…” Laozi stroked his beard and spoke slowly. “Perhaps innate spiritual treasures are indeed precious to loose cultivators. But for us Xuan Sect disciples, they are not essential.”

“After the Dao-Devil War, countless sects were destroyed. Many treasures and resources fell into the hands of your master’s master. So when it comes to spiritual treasures, our lineage has more than enough. Sooner or later, they’ll all be passed on to us.”

“But remember this: when your cultivation is low, innate treasures are useful. When you reach the higher realms, they become shackles. At that point, many cultivators choose to refine their Dao-forging artifacts—unique tools that reflect their cultivation path.”

“So, aside from gifting to disciples, spiritual treasures are only good as materials for refining. Having more is meaningless. But spiritual roots? Those are different.”

“Spiritual roots cannot be cultivated. They cannot be refined. As the Flood’s environment continues to deteriorate, they only become scarcer. A single spiritual root can yield spirit fruits for ages. In the long run, gathering as many spiritual roots as possible is the wiser path.”

Laozi looked at Xuan Qing solemnly. “This is why we made that deal.”