Everyone bid their farewells at Wulei Mountain. Wei Hongqing hurried back to Tianmu Mountain that very night to tend to his injuries, while Zuo Gaofeng and Tan Bajhang set off together for Chicheng Mountain to sell their goods.

The Chicheng Sect was one of the ten great sects under heaven, but unlike most orthodox sects with their rigid hierarchies and rules, Chicheng had a looser structure. It was founded by seven elders who joined forces to create an alliance-style sect focused on refining magical tools. Because of that, life there was far more relaxed. The bustling Chicheng marketplace at the foot of the mountain was also the largest in the land, making it one of the safest places to trade.

As for Liu Xiaolou and Fang Bu’ai, they traveled through the night back to Qianzhu Ridge.

Fang Bu’ai had just earned a large pile of spirit stones and was eager to make up for lost time. He planned to throw himself into cultivation and push through to the third layer as soon as possible. Liu Xiaolou, on the other hand, was preparing to go into seclusion to break through the sixth layer of Qi Refinement. And to study the newly acquired Qiankun Pouch.

When he extended his spiritual sense into the bag, a hazy light filled his vision. After a careful look around, he discovered a small inner space. About the height of a man and roughly seven feet long and wide. Not bad at all.

Feeling quite pleased, he examined the space again, an idea forming in his mind. Withdrawing his spiritual sense, he went into the forest, chopped several bundles of bamboo, and spent half a day weaving a bamboo frame nearly identical in size to the space inside the Qiankun Pouch.

The rack had five tiers in total. The bottom two were a bit taller, while the upper three grew slightly narrower. Once it was finished, Liu Xiaolou focused his mind and tried to “will” it into the Qiankun Pouch. At first, it got stuck and refused to go in, but after some trimming and adjustments, he finally managed to fit it inside.

Next, he headed to the underground cave of the Sanxuan Sect to sort through the things he had stashed there and put them into the pouch, neatly categorized.

The bottom shelf held leftover materials from his earlier attempts at refining the formation disk. Mostly spirit ores and minerals, things like refined metals and rare stones. They filled about half the space on that level.

The other half, he decided, would be for spirit wine. He still remembered the time he raided the Jiping Manor treasury and found a jar of fine spirit wine. Since he couldn’t carry it off back then, he’d only managed a few hearty gulps on the spot and had to leave the rest for Dragon Mountain Wanderer.

That kind of regret wouldn’t happen again. This half-layer could easily store ten jars of Bamboo Leaf Green!

The second tier was also for materials, but of a rarer kind: pine resin essence, royal lotus seeds, spring jade crystals, golden leaves, water-milk quartz, and other uncommon treasures left over from his past refining work. Combined with the metals and stones below, he now had more than enough to refine another Abyssal Blackstone Formation, with some materials to spare.

He also placed a few other things on the second tier. Tiger whip, deer antler, cinnamon bark, and the like. Ingredients for refining Bewildering Fragrance Tendon. With them always on hand, he could start a batch whenever he needed.

The gourd of miasma he’d collected deep in the mountains went there too. He hadn’t yet figured out how to incorporate it into the formation disk, so that would take some careful thought later.

The third tier held his pitifully small stash of spirit pills. Just a few bottles, including Heart-Nourishing Pills and Tiger Bone Pills. He also placed the three sect leader tokens there: one from Sanxuan Sect, one from Purple Pole Sect, and one from Xingming Sect.

This layer doubled as a library as well. Titles like The True Mysteries Scripture, The Yin-Yang Scripture, The Illusion Scripture, The Five Talismans, Essentials of the Golden Scroll Formations, Thousandfold Formulas, Abyssal Blackstone Formation Manual, and Secret Methods of Serpent Gu were all neatly stacked in order.

Looking at the collection, a sudden wave of pride welled up in his chest. After all these years of hard work, hadn’t he, in his own way, strengthened his sect?

Suddenly remembering something, he pulled his mind back from the Qiankun Pouch, grabbed pen and paper, and began to write furiously. For two days, he worked without rest, producing a new manual titled The Secret Formations of Qianzhu Ridge. In it, he copied the entire Abyssal Blackstone Formation Manual and added more than a dozen other formation techniques, including The Earth Gate Formation and The Northern Blackwater Nine-Palace Formation. Most of these came from his insights while studying the great defensive formation of Jinting Mountain. He wanted to write them down while they were still fresh in his mind; if he waited a few years until the memories faded, he’d regret it for sure.

He also included The Heaven’s Origin, Beginning to End Method as a full chapter in the manual.

Excellent. Powerful. The Sanxuan Sect’s heritage was now richer than ever.

On the second tier, he arranged all his magical artifacts: the Abyssal Blackstone Formation Disk, the Three-Mystery Sword, the Bone Flute, and the Jade Pendant Concealment. He no longer needed to keep the Bewildering Fragrance Tendon wrapped around his arm all day either. That was the beauty of the Qiankun Pouch. With just a thought, he could summon anything he needed instantly.

He also added his trusty dueling gear—a bamboo hat and a black scarf. Those two were indispensable, so he stored both of his spare sets in the bag as well.

The Mysterious True Cord refused to go back into the bag. It had already merged beneath the skin of his left arm, turning into a faint blue vein. Funny enough, that made it even more effective than when it was stored in the Qiankun pouch.

On the very top layer of the pouch sat over fifty spirit stones and more than a hundred taels of silver. The foundation of his cultivation.

Once everything was packed up, Liu Xiaolou tied the Qiankun pouch securely to his waist with a bit of string. A wave of reassurance washed over him. Wherever he went from now on, he wouldn’t have to worry about his belongings anymore.

After that, with no more visits from Zuo Gaofeng or Tan Bajhang, both Liu Xiaolou and Fang Bu’ai went into seclusion to cultivate. Even Big White and Little Black seemed to understand the quiet mood. No more “quacks” or “meows.” Suddenly, Qianzhu Ridge fell into a peaceful silence. And in that silence, spring arrived.

Light spring rain pattered down, tapping gently on a golden ring beehive clinging to the cliffside. The commotion woke one of the bees. It poked its head out, antennae twitching before it crawled fully out and took off buzzing into the drizzle.

After a short flight beyond the bamboo grove, the bee reached the small courtyard and landed delicately on a freshly bloomed wildflower near the terrace. Just as its head dipped into the blossom, a flash of yellow darted down like lightning. It was Big White, striking in an instant.

But Big White didn’t manage to catch the bee. Before he could, Liu Xiaolou grabbed it by its long neck and lifted him right off the ground, tossing it a good distance away.

“You stupid bird! How many times have I told you, that’s a Golden Ring Bee, not some random wild bee! Look carefully before you go pecking! Do you still want honey or not? Spiritual honey, at that!”

After the scolding, Big White folded its wings miserably and strutted off in small, sulky steps.

Liu Xiaolou turned his attention back to the bee. He watched closely as it gathered nectar, fluttered its wings, and flew off into the drizzle. His heart swelled with joy. Give it a few months, and he’d finally get to taste golden ring honey. Just thinking about it made his mouth water.

But even more exciting than the honey was his recent breakthrough. After two months of cultivation and burning through five spirit stones, he had finally opened his Zuqiaoyin acupoint. His cultivation had risen another layer.

Qi Refinement, Seventh Layer!

He’d finally caught up to Tan Bajhang. Next target, Wei Hongqing!

This breakthrough came just in time. Right before Big White lunged. And it was close. He’d almost lost that golden ringed bee.

Qi Refinement, seventh layer: the last layer of mid-Qi Refinement. Even putting everything else aside, with the strength of his true qi alone, he could already count himself among the stronger cultivators in Wulong Mountain. If another hero’s summons came, he’d be part of the backbone.

He shifted his spirit, pulled the Three-Mystery Sword from the Qiankun pouch, and fed true qi into it. A sword-light sprang from the tip and lengthened a few inches. Nearly two feet in all.

The two-foot sword-light rippled in the rain like a vine: soft but tough. At the tip it even seemed slightly split, like it was sipping up the raindrops.

Huh? Split?

Liu Xiaolou frowned and leaned closer to inspect. Left, right... yeah, it really was forked. What on earth? Since when does a sword-light split like that?

After thinking it over from every angle and still getting nowhere, Liu Xiaolou finally decided to let the mystery go. Whatever was going on, that flexible, whip-like sword-light was actually pretty handy once he got used to it. Especially now that it had grown longer. In real combat, it moved with an eerie unpredictability, sometimes even wrapping around an opponent’s vital spots mid-swing. A single downward pull and...

…yeah, best not to picture that too vividly.

Besides the longer sword-light, his leaps now carried him three feet higher, his speed had noticeably improved, and his senses and true qi both felt sharper and more enduring. All these gains would take time to fully explore and master.

Now that he’d reached the seventh layer of Qi Refinement, it was time to cultivate the Hand Lesser Yin Meridian. This meridian had only nine acupoints. Far fewer than the Foot Lesser Yang Meridian of the sixth layer. Eight running along the palm side of the arm, and one tucked in the armpit. Their names echoed in his mind: Jiquan, Qingling, Shaohai, Lingdao, Tongli, Yinxi, Shenmen, Shaofu, Shaochong.

Fewer acupoints didn’t mean easier, though. Each one was a major acupoint with its own primordial pool. This was a sign that the road ahead would only grow steeper.