Helping Lord Xingde escape left Liu Xiaolou with a rush of exhilaration; an almost overwhelming sense of clarity and freedom. It felt amazing. The feeling spread from his mind through his meridians, guiding the flow of true qi with ease and power. He couldn't wait to return to the mountain and throw himself back into cultivation.

He picked up his pace and made his way back to the outskirts of the Taoyuan Mountains, where he had buried his spirit stones, formation disk, sect tokens, manuals, and silver coins. Once he dug them up, he immediately started heading home. This time, though, he was carrying more valuables than before, so cutting straight through the Wuling Mountains was out of the question. That area was crawling with bandits and spirit beasts, and there was no need to take unnecessary risks. Instead, he looped southward, adding over a hundred extra li to his journey, following the banks of the Wuchao River upstream until he finally returned to Wulong Mountain. His home that he hadn’t seen in more than three months.

He lingered at the base of Qianzhu Ridge for half a day, had a meal of coarse rice at Uncle Tian’s house, and handed out a few silver bits to some familiar villagers. Then, with everything in order, he headed up the mountain in earnest.

Uncle Tian had told him that back in the first lunar month, Ah Zhen had come home for a visit and even planned to hike up the mountain to see Liu Xiaolou. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been there at the time. She’d been cultivating for a year under Fairy Jingzhen in Xiushan and had already reached the first layer of Qi Refinement; a pretty impressive pace. Back when he started at eight years old, it had taken him until he was ten to get that far. He couldn’t help but feel a little overshadowed.

If that little girl ended up surpassing him, that’d be seriously embarrassing.

With that thought, Liu Xiaolou didn’t even bother clearing out the weeds in the yard or brushing away the cobwebs in the rafters. He dove straight into cultivation.

He had already opened the three major acupoints on the Hand Faint Yin Meridian—Tianchi, Tianquan, and Quze. Next up was the Ximen acupoint.

The Ximen acupoint is located on the palm side of the forearm. Once it's fully opened, symptoms like heart palpitations and chest tightness become much less likely to occur. That’s not just because the meridian is unblocked, but because true essence, once it starts accumulating in the primordial pool of the acupoint, nourishes the body from within. True qi is what spiritual energy becomes after adapting to the human body. When enough of it gathers, it warms and nurtures key acupoints. This is one of the biggest reasons why cultivation can prolong life.

A steady stream of spiritual energy was being drawn from the spirit stone in Liu Xiaolou’s palm. With each breath in and out, it was slowly transformed into true qi, which then made its way toward the Ximen acupoint. Liu Xiaolou had repeated this process over and over again since he was eight years old, for eleven straight years. That’s what made cultivation so monotonous. But the rush of clarity and comfort each time a meridian broke through? That feeling was impossible to describe. And that’s what made it all so rewarding.

The days passed one by one, until one day, Big White suddenly came back. Like a child trying to make up for something, it cautiously cleared away weeds and cobwebs. By the time Liu Xiaolou opened his eyes, the courtyard had come back to life.

Fourteen days later, the spirit stone he was using was drained dry, so he swapped in a new one and continued cultivating.

When the first spring rain of the year drifted gently down over Wulong Mountain, Liu Xiaolou finally broke through the Ximen acupoint. True qi poured happily into the primordial pool, sending little ripples splashing out.

He’d originally planned to keep going and push through the fifth acupoint, but a foul, rotting stench jolted him out of his focus. He had no choice but to end his session early. Glancing over at the pile of fat fish, wild rabbits, and mountain pheasants stacked beside the stove, he couldn’t help but let out a wry smile.

This goose was getting more and more obsessed with cooked food. If Liu Xiaolou happened to be away from the mountain, it made do. But the moment he returned, Big White would rush out to bring back fresh game, then sit there staring at him, waiting for him to light the fire and cook.

"Alright, fine. Let’s make a meal," Liu Xiaolou muttered to himself. "I’ve been living off dry rations for a month; time to eat something decent."

But as he looked over the pile of wild game, he frowned. A good chunk of it had already started to rot, especially the fish. The smell was unbearable.

Just as he was about to get up, Big White came flapping back from outside, bursting through the courtyard with two fresh, fat fish in its beak. It hadn’t noticed that Liu Xiaolou had finished cultivating. After dropping the fish by the stove, it waddled around in a couple of excited circles, then suddenly stuck its beak under the stove and dragged out a piece of firewood.

It stared at the wood from one side, then the other, and after a moment of inspection, started pecking at it.

Liu Xiaolou had no idea what it was trying to do, but decided to be patient and watch.

The goose pecked faster and faster, woodchips flying everywhere. Before long, it had drilled a round hole in the log, one you could clearly see with the naked eye.

Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help but laugh. What is this thing doing? Trying to be a woodpecker now?

But as he kept watching, his smile slowly froze on his face. From that round hole, wisps of smoke began to rise.

The goose saw the smoke, grabbed a few dry leaves from nearby, and tossed them on top of the hole. The leaves caught fire almost immediately. Liu Xiaolou stared in disbelief.

Unfortunately, the spring rain suddenly picked up. The drizzle turned into a steady shower, several times heavier than before, and the tiny flame was quickly snuffed out.

Frustrated, Big White goose stomped its feet where it stood and let out two loud "honk honk" cries toward the sky, as if scolding the heavens for ruining its hard work.

It was only then that Liu Xiaolou snapped out of it.

"Big White!" he called out.

The goose flapped its wings and rushed over to him. One wing drooped dramatically as it pointed toward the charred remains of the wood, honking non-stop, clearly complaining.

Liu Xiaolou hesitated for a while, then finally pulled out a spirit stone, placed it in his palm, and held it out to the goose’s beak. Compared to last year, this creature seemed noticeably more intelligent. Could it actually have potential to be raised properly? Times weren’t as hard as they had been; he had plenty of spirit stones on hand now. Wasting one wasn’t a big deal.

Big White froze for a second, then looked at Liu Xiaolou, then at the spirit stone in his hand. Back and forth it went, eyeing both with suspicion. Step by step, it crept forward, then suddenly darted in, snatched the spirit stone right out of Liu Xiaolou’s palm, turned around, and bolted out of the courtyard, straight into the bamboo grove.

Liu Xiaolou chuckled and stood up. He walked over to the spot where the goose had been hanging around and pulled aside a patch of dry grass. Underneath, he found a small gold ingot and a golden hairpin. The ingot was maybe half a tael; not very heavy, but finely made. The hairpin was carved with an openwork butterfly design, delicate and elegant.

Another wealthy household had met with misfortune?

As he was still thinking it over, a village boy came running breathlessly up the mountain path, clinging to the fence and calling out, “Little Immortal Master! You should hide! A big sect’s coming to raid Wulong Mountain!”

“Niuya, who sent you?” asked Liu Xiaolou.

“Uncle Tian. He said scouts were already seen near the base of the mountain. They’re from Dongting Lake, something called the Qingyu Sect. Anyway, Little Immortal Master, I have to go tell the people at Qizhang Ridge too!”

Liu Xiaolou frowned, deep in thought. 

The Qingyu Sect? Why would they suddenly come all the way out to Wulong Mountain to root out bandits? Were they here for him? Did they somehow know he was the one who helped Lord Xingde and Zhou Qiniang escape?

Impossible.

This had to be about what happened at the end of last year; when Boss Wang rallied a group of heroes to storm the Zhou family estate. Maybe too many people from Wulong Mountain had responded to the hero’s post back then, and someone had traced it back to them?

If the Qingyu Sect was launching a full-scale purge of Wulong Mountain, did that mean they’d lifted the blockade on Taoyuan? Then again, maybe they were strong enough to handle two fronts at once.

Either way, running was the only option. Ever since he’d come up the mountain, he’d had to flee more times than he could count. Once or twice a year, it was basically expected.

He quickly packed a bundle with everything he needed to take, including all the shiny gold, silver, and jewels that  Big White had scrounged up,  and then called out toward the bamboo grove:

“Big White...”

Sure enough, the beast came flapping out, wings spread wide. The spirit stone was probably already sitting in its belly.

Liu Xiaolou slung the bundle over his shoulder, put on his straw hat, pulled on a rain cape, and headed down the mountain in the soft patter of spring rain.

This time, he didn’t dare hide in his usual secret spot. He was planning to leave Wulong Mountain altogether. He’d seen what the Qingyu Sect was capable of; shape absorbing technique, spirit-tracking technique, even so-called mountain god's manifestation. Staying hidden somewhere in the mountain wasn’t necessarily safe anymore. Better to get out while he could.