Chapter Eleven: Little River Village

The next day.
The sky was completely clear, and warm sunlight rose from the distant mountains, awakening all living things.

“Up ahead is Xiaohe Village.”

Chen Xuan rode the bronze horse, swiftly flying several meters above the ground, pointing toward the direction etched in his memory. “We’ll arrive in about an hour.”

Chu Huogun leaned forward to look, but the view remained desolate, with scarcely any beasts in sight, let alone signs of human presence. “Oh, I can’t really tell...”

Chen Xuan thought to himself: This entire Peach Town, barren for hundreds of miles with hardly any inhabitants, is all because of you Qi cultivators.

Legend had it that the Peach Blossom Land appeared once every twenty years.

At that time, not only would Qi cultivators gather in great numbers, all vying for their future fortunes, but even the Mountain Gods would open the gates of the Southern Wilderness, allowing countless spirits, demons, and monsters to surge forth.

“A pandemonium of demons.”

Chen Xuan tugged at the corner of his mouth.

This was a grand feast for the Qi cultivation world—a daily battleground where innocent bystanders suffered, leaving ordinary people on the surface with no room to survive.

Wherever they came, nothing grew.

Within a hundred-mile radius of Peach Town, the remaining human settlements were few.

Xiaohe Village was the southernmost among them.

It wasn’t that people were unwilling to leave, but because it lay on the southern edge of Peach Town, the path to exile was too far.

Xiaohe Village was also the birthplace of Chen Xuan’s current body.

Back then, the village elders urged him, young and strong with no family burdens, to venture out into the world—outside was better, no need to come back.

Later, Chen Xuan traveled alone across hundreds of miles of wilderness, journeying for over half a month before arriving at Liuzhen to learn martial arts.

After three years of training, he laid a solid foundation, waiting for the right moment.

“Master Chu, I saw your Qi cultivation tricks during yesterday’s fight—they were quite impressive.”

Chen Xuan asked Chu Huogun about these “tricks.”

Chu Huogun explained that once the human body produces immortal Qi, one can cultivate these tricks, transforming the primordial Qi into twelve different kinds of divine immortal Qi.

“My cultivated method is the ‘Little Firebird Trick,’ which can transform the Fire Virtue Red Qi.”

Chu Huogun told Chen Xuan that the Red Qi could preserve his three thoughts from fading; even if only his head remained, he wouldn’t die immediately and might have the chance for a “phoenix-like rebirth through fire.”

Yet these tricks were exceedingly rare. Even Chu’s own family had struggled for generations in Red Crow City to obtain this trick, treating it as a treasured family heirloom, rarely shared.

“If you have no tricks to cultivate, when we return to Red Crow City, I can help you.”

Chu Huogun, knowing Chen Xuan was a wild cultivator from the mountains and swamps, suggested, “Your talent isn’t low. If a noblewoman from one of the true aristocratic families in Red Crow City were to take a husband… I could speak on your behalf. The chance is quite good.”

“A son-in-law by marriage?”

“Yes. Other than that, you have no better path. These tricks are too precious and rarely circulate on the market.”

“That doesn’t sound too good...”

“You’re not bad looking—well-proportioned, handsome, with some of the bearing and grace I had in my youth. If you were ugly and deformed, I wouldn’t suggest this. Those noble ladies have very high standards; even if they accept a son-in-law, they won’t settle for just anyone...”

Chen Xuan scratched the back of his head, glancing sideways at the earnest Chu Huogun, thinking this was a terrible idea. He hadn’t sunk so low to take such a shortcut yet!

Then he thought of Wang Chan and his “Yellow Millet Dream”: “He definitely won’t lack those things.”

---

“I come from humble origins, with no family or sect to support me. My foundation lies in the ‘Heart Abode.’”

Chen Xuan murmured to himself, recalling the mysterious cat goddess from the small underworld.

The Qi breathing technique had come from her.

Perhaps the next immortal Qi tricks to cultivate would also relate to her.

Chen Xuan immediately asked Chu Huogun about the small underworld.

“The small underworld? It’s ethereal and elusive, said to be far more mysterious than the Peach Blossom Land, but in reality, it doesn’t exist,” Chu Huogun declared firmly.

According to legend, when a Qi cultivator dies, the small underworld descends to draw away their past memories, fate, and destiny.

But this was not absolute.

The descent of the small underworld always meant a Qi cultivator had died.

Yet not every Qi cultivator’s death would attract the small underworld. There were deeper explanations.

Chen Xuan pressed for more details, but Chu Huogun admitted he couldn’t explain further.

Though experienced and knowledgeable, he clearly wasn’t qualified to access such high-level information.

“We need to find a way to see the small underworld again... but only when a Qi cultivator dies.”

Chen Xuan pondered this as he rode the bronze horse toward the distant land.

In the distance, smoke curled from an ancient village at the edge of the earth.

...

Xiaohe Village was small, with only dozens of households. A small river ran through its entrance, giving the village its name.

A bit further south lay the mountains of the Southern Wilderness.

Years ago, Chen Xuan had heard stories in the village and tried to head south to find the lost Peach Blossom Land.

Finding no trace, he gave up and went north instead.

Recently, the twenty years of peace in Xiaohe Village had been shattered by Qi cultivators arriving from all directions, imposing their dominance in a straightforward and overbearing manner.

Some large families with elderly members had already opened their doors willingly to accept seemingly kind cultivators.

But some less prudent households had their doors forcibly broken down by hot-tempered cultivators, after which suppressed sobbing from female family members could be heard inside...

Chen Xuan let the bronze horse graze on a nearby hill and carried Chu Huogun’s staff as he entered Xiaohe Village.

At the village entrance, small groups of cultivators gathered, exchanging news.

“The Qi cultivators of the Li family from Red Crow City have entered the Southern Wilderness mountains again.”

“They didn’t find the Peach Blossom Land on Green Deer Mountain, but last night, they fought fiercely in the mountains to seize the upper hand, taking half a piece of a terrestrial treasure herb... I heard they picked up a new powerful disciple on the way.”

“Old Master Chu was taken away by bandits; his two young ones are crying everywhere, pleading for help...”

“To the east of the village, a mortal family died—Zheng Tu’s group... foolish, all wiped out. Who’s left to boil water and cook for us?”

...

Villagers shut their doors tightly, their eyes filled with fear as they peered through the windows at the outsiders.

“New cultivators arrived today. Hey? What’s that he’s carrying? A human head!”

A cultivator, seeing Chu Huogun’s staff in Chen Xuan’s hand, was shocked but did not approach hastily.

This scene was too bizarre— even they, suddenly seeing a young man openly carrying a bloody human head down the main road, would avert their gaze and feel a chill down their spine.

“I’ll help you find your family first.”

Chen Xuan said to Old Chu. He had overheard cultivators talking about Chu’s two young wards currently in Xiaohe Village.

Soon, they found the unfortunate siblings in a large household.

“Grandpa Huogun...”

A girl named Chu Qingling, with almond-shaped eyes, saw the miserable state of her elder and burst into tears, her eyes swollen and her voice hoarse from crying.

Her cousin, a sickly young man from the Chu family, was calmer as he recounted their recent tragic ordeal:

“My cousin and I fled desperately, following the map to get here... but the elders of the Li family made excuses and refused to help.”

Like the Chu family, the Li family was a Qi cultivation lineage from Red Crow City, with a history of acquaintance.

Though neither was a top-tier cultivation family, both had produced cultivators for several generations and possessed solid foundations.

“The old man of the Li family gained achievements in the Southern Wilderness in his youth, which led to their rise. Now he dreams of advancing further, attempting a second transcendence.”

Old Chu comforted the two children, explaining that help was a favor and refusal could not be faulted. Once in the Southern Wilderness, everyone was a competitor; they should not harbor grudges.

Then he extended an invitation to Chen Xuan:

“Xiao Wang, why not live with us? It’d be good to look out for each other.”

He held great hopes for Chen Xuan’s talent, believing he would one day rival those who had transcended, wielding power close to six thousand jins. Such a genius should mingle widely before his rise.

“I have my own arrangements.”

Chen Xuan shook his head, refusing. He had his own courtyard in Xiaohe Village and saw no need to stay elsewhere.

He then learned some recent news from the Chu siblings before taking his leave.

Chen Xuan did not head straight to the small courtyard he remembered but began strolling slowly through the village, observing his surroundings.

Along the way, he encountered some cultivators, exchanging glances and nodding greetings.

He also met some villagers, two of whom seemed to recognize his face and looked twice.

Three years ago, a boy in the village had fallen into the water and undergone a personality change, plunging headlong into hundreds of miles of wilderness... Everyone thought the boy was reckless and had died in the boundless wilds.

But they soon realized Chen Xuan could interact with cultivators, dispelling their absurd doubts. From a distance, they knelt in fear, their expressions trembling.

Fear of immortals surpassed even fear of tigers.

Many events had unfolded here in recent days.

“Things have changed; people are no longer the same.”

Chen Xuan also felt the villagers had changed greatly; some elders were unrecognizable, the passage of time merciless. He was now eighteen.

Yet no villager truly recognized him.

After about fifteen minutes, he had walked through the entire village.

From afar, Chen Xuan assessed a dozen or so cultivators, later spotting several from the Li family of Red Crow City, their bodies stained with blood and faces gloomy as they returned from the south.

In his heart, he weighed the caliber of all these people.