Chapter Eighteen: Sweet Potatoes in the Cave

Feng Yisheng now possessed not a trace of spiritual energy within his body, nor could he draw upon the essence scattered in the air; naturally, the storage ring was useless to him. Yet his curiosity toward the items hidden within the ring only grew—this ancient patriarch had lived over five thousand years, so surely the treasures accumulated must be vast.

But the wealth within the Pure Yang Ancestor’s storage ring far exceeded even Feng Yisheng’s wildest imaginings. In the cultivation world, not to mention the storage ring of a Nascent Soul cultivator, even one belonging to a mere Core Formation adept would rival the riches of any great mundane nation. Should such a trove see the light of day, it would surely spark a bloodbath among cultivators.

Feng Yisheng sat cross-legged at the very spot where the Pure Yang Ancestor had passed away, in the midst of the Eight Trigrams Spiritual Gathering Array fashioned by the old patriarch. Though the world of mortals suffered from thin spiritual energy, there were still rare places as lush as any in the cultivation realm—Meiling of Changnan City was one such oasis. Yet, the aura within this cave ran weak, which was why the Pure Yang Ancestor had established the array here to aid his cultivation. Its effects were outstanding, gathering spiritual energy from a full kilometer around—a true treasure in itself.

With eyes half-closed, Feng Yisheng allowed the Pure Yang Codex to surface in his mind. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the codex consisted of nine layers. Presently, he could only see the first; the subsequent eight would unlock only as his cultivation deepened. This restriction—a safeguard left by the Pure Yang Ancestor—was meant to protect Feng Yisheng from recklessly attempting higher techniques beyond his current stage, risking his very foundation.

Feng Yisheng recalled, “The Ancestor once said that should I master the first layer of the Pure Yang Codex, I’d be unrivaled in the mundane world. Whether that’s true or not, I do not know. But to walk sideways—wouldn’t that make me a crab?” At this, he burst into hearty laughter.

He silently vowed, “Zhuang Bi, just you wait. You’ve always bullied me. When I return, I’ll show you the error of your ways.” As for the villainous guardian of the Ancestor, once he reached the divine transformation stage, he’d make sure to teach him a lesson as well.

Zhuang Bi was his classmate—tall and burly, always using his size to bully Feng Yisheng, mocking him with biting sarcasm, treating him as little more than a servant and constantly sending him on errands to the campus store. Feng Yisheng, slight of build, was no match for Zhuang Bi and his two cronies; each time they ganged up on him, he could only swallow his anger, too timid to fight back.

Muttering to himself, Feng Yisheng declared, “When I return, I’ll make them all see me in a new light! Ha! Ha!” He could already picture Zhuang Bi and his lackeys kneeling before him, singing songs of surrender.

After practicing the Pure Yang Codex once through, Feng Yisheng felt his body grow lighter, though he still sensed no spiritual energy within. His stomach, however, began to rumble. Only after reaching the Foundation Establishment stage could a cultivator live without food; until then, hunger remained a constant companion.

He remembered the fruits he’d plucked from a tree outside the cave—they’d all been smashed in his earlier fall and were now inedible. Turning his gaze around the cave, he searched for something else to eat. Sure enough, after a quick survey, he discovered a number of vines growing along the cave wall, each bearing what appeared to be sweet potatoes.

He stood, walked to the vines, and plucked a few of the tubers. Near the Spiritual Gathering Array was a small pool fed by a stream; he washed the sweet potatoes there. Biting into one, he found the taste unlike sweet potato—more akin to ginseng, but with a faint astringency. Under his breath he muttered, “No matter, as long as it’s edible. Let’s hope it isn’t poisonous.”

Back home, it took three bowls of rice to satisfy his growing body, but after just one of these ‘sweet potatoes’ he felt fully sated. He thought little of it.

Replete, Feng Yisheng returned to the center of the Eight Trigrams Array, resolving to run through the first layer of the Pure Yang Codex again and again. Only by quickly succeeding at this stage could he harness spiritual energy to climb out of the cave.

This time, as he circulated his technique, he discovered a wisp of spiritual energy within him—where before there had been none. Quickly, he realized the cause and glanced at the vine on the cave wall. The sweet potato must be the key! But he put that thought aside; if these tubers could grant such benefit, then it wouldn’t be long before he successfully entered the spirit-gathering stage.

A smile broke across his face. Once he succeeded, he would be able to access the Ancestor’s storage ring. Judging by the luminous pearls embedded in the cave walls, the Ancestor was no ordinary figure; who could guess what treasures lay within the ring? Perhaps even a single trinket would bring him immense wealth.

When he returned to Changnan City, he could finally teach that Zhuang Bi a lesson. At last, he’d reach the pinnacle of his life! “Ha ha!” Feng Yisheng laughed heartily in the darkness of the cave.

He marveled at his recent string of bizarre fortunes—what could one do in the face of such luck but accept it with resignation? Indeed, a protagonist’s fate was unique. He fancied himself a child favored by the heavens, attributing his luck to a lifetime of helping old ladies cross the street and winning the universe’s favor.

Eight days later, in the pre-dawn hours of the ninth day, Feng Yisheng sat once more at the center of the Eight Trigrams Array, hands resting on his knees. His breathing was steady, measured, and now and then, fine threads of spiritual energy shimmered over his body, drawing in the aura from the air around him.

By the previous night, he had become a first-layer spirit-gathering cultivator. Now, he was simply consolidating his newfound strength. Still, he grumbled to himself, “Too slow—eight days just to reach the first layer of spirit gathering.”

He did not know that in the cultivation world, succeeding in spirit gathering in only eight days would cause a tremendous stir. Such speed was the mark of a genius, guaranteeing him a place as a prized disciple and drawing the envy of countless cultivators. Most spent their childhoods in ceaseless training, yet even they needed years to achieve what he had in days.

Feng Yisheng’s rapid progress was due in part to the transformation of his body by the Pure Yang Ancestor, who had reforged his flesh and bones into a golden, indomitable constitution—a physical vessel unique and unrivaled in the cultivation world, its benefits multiplying as his cultivation advanced.

Secondly, the Pure Yang Ancestor’s Eight Trigrams Spiritual Gathering Array provided him with the aura necessary to fuel his progress. Even in the mortal world, this array gathered more energy than most, and in the true cultivation world, its power would be even greater.