Bu Wei

A thin, sharp sword flew over the emerald forest waves, startling a large flock of birds.

Ning Buwei stood on the sword, with wind whistling past his ears. The wine’s fragrance was faint, making him feel slightly tipsy. He took out the pear blossom wine jar from his sleeve again and took a few drinks in the wind, feeling refreshed and comfortable.

However, he seemed to have forgotten something.

Ning Buwei, being blown by the cold wind, circled around on his sword twice. Around him, except for bird calls and beast howls, there was no one.

He looked around with a confused gaze, finally remembering he was missing someone.

A streak of light darted chaotically through the air for a while before wobbling down to the ground. Ning Buwei sighed, as the wine was getting to his head, making his mind extremely sluggish. He now just wanted to find a place to sleep soundly.

After wandering for a while, he finally found a seemingly safe tree fork. Just as he jumped up and laid down, closing his eyes, he heard an anxious female voice.

“Lingzhu, hide quickly! Don’t make a sound!” An anxious female voice came from nearby, followed by stumbling footsteps.

Ning Buwei frowned and turned over while holding his sword.

But the child’s crying sound kept appearing and disappearing, disturbing his peace. After a moment, he finally opened his eyes impatiently.

Below the tree, a female cultivator was trying to push a child into a tree hollow. The child shook her head, refusing to go in, saying stubbornly, “Martial Aunt, let’s hide together, you’ll die.”

The female cultivator patted her head, “Be good, you are Medical Immortal Valley’s only hope. Remember, you must survive.”

However, before she could hide the child properly, six cultivators arrived on their swords. They all wore indigo Daoist robes. The leader, with thick eyebrows and imposing eyes, spoke in a harsh, unpleasant voice, “Yang Qianrou! What difference does it make even if you run into the Floating Sky Realm? I’ve already planted the love bug in your body. If you’re sensible, come back to Hanyan Sect with me obediently!”

“Bah!” Yang Qianrou held her sword horizontally in front, shielding Yang Lingzhu behind her, and shouted angrily, “Si Huachun, despite being Hanyan Sect’s head disciple, how can you act so despicably!”

“Everyone in your Medical Immortal Valley is dead now. I’m being kind enough to take you in, yet you’re still ungrateful!” Si Huachun sneered, “If not for your excellent medical skills and decent looks, do you think I would have kept you until now?”

“That’s right, it’s your blessing to be noticed by our Senior Brother!” the disciples behind Si Huachun jeered.

Another person laughed and said, “Fairy Maiden Qianrou, you haven’t experienced the pleasure of dual cultivation yet. You won’t be able to resist this love bug. If you dual cultivate with our Senior Brother, you’ll surely be crying and begging not to leave!”

Yang Qianrou trembled with anger and shouted. “You bunch of shameless scoundrels!”

“Hahaha, this little girl behind you, in two years we can also teach her the methods of dual cultivation. We guarantee both master and disciple won’t want to leave— Ah!” That person suddenly clutched his eyes and fell to the ground in pain, “My eyes! My eyes!!”

Yang Lingzhu coldly stared at that person, with a red snake coiled around her finger, hissing and flicking its tongue.

“Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit!” Si Huachun’s face darkened as he slashed his sword at Yang Lingzhu, but was blocked by Yang Qianrou.

Si Huachun stepped forward, his spiritual power surging, directly breaking her sword. Just as his blade was about to split Yang Lingzhu’s head, she hugged her little red snake and closed her eyes.

However, when she felt no pain after a long while, Yang Lingzhu opened her eyes to see Si Huachun’s sword being broken into sections by someone from afar.

Si Huachun was greatly shocked and quickly retreated several steps, vigilantly looking around, “Who’s there!?”

A lazy chuckle came from the tree.

As the concealment barrier lifted, a man in black clothes was seen leaning against the tree, holding a wine jar, looking down at them condescendingly.

Though his appearance and cultivation level seemed ordinary, he somehow gave off a dangerous aura.

Si Huachun watched him warily and said displeasingly, “I advise this fellow cultivator to mind your own business, lest you lose your life!”

Ning Buwei bent one leg and rested his arm on it, giving an arrogant smile, his mind still dizzy with heat, “Today, this grandfather will definitely mind this business.”

He tapped the wine jar on the tree branch and sat steadily on the branch that was only two fingers wide, then leaped down from the tree.

As his sword unsheathed, blood light filled the air, and screams echoed continuously.

Yang Lingzhu, hugging her little red snake, watched as Si Huachun’s head rolled to her feet, his eyes still wide open in disbelief, unable to rest in peace.

Yang Qianrou quickly covered Yang Lingzhu’s eyes, her hands trembling slightly.

The warm smell of blood mixed with wine was nauseating. Ning Buwei kicked away the headless corpse stuck on his sword, cast the Great Cleaning Spell three times to barely suppress his nausea, sheathed his sword and walked forward, not forgetting to grab the half jar of pear blossom wine.

“Wait, benefactor!” Yang Qianrou pulled Yang Lingzhu forward and made a deep bow to Ning Buwei, “Thank you for saving us. Please tell us your name and sect so we can repay your great kindness in the future!”

Ning Buwei paused, his gaze sweeping across Yang Lingzhu’s small face, finding it somewhat familiar, but his dizzy mind couldn’t recall. Even Yang Qianrou’s voice seemed to fade in and out.

“No need—” Ning Buwei felt the ground swaying before him, “My family’s girl is about her age, just helping those in need… where’s my knife?”

Yang Qianrou and Yang Lingzhu looked at each other bewildered. After the man staggered away, Yang Lingzhu finally spoke, “Martial Aunt, the benefactor smells strongly of wine, is he drunk?”

Yang Qianrou said, “True masters often hide their abilities.”

Ning Buwei hadn’t expected the Immortal Wine to have such a strong delayed effect. At first, he was just tipsy, but after using his spiritual power to kill those people, his entire head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, as if weighed down by a thousand pounds, making him top-heavy and stumbling as he walked.

He looked up at the steep cliff, patted his hands, tucked his front hem into his belt, and began climbing up nimbly. Halfway up, the wind suddenly grew stronger, nearly blowing him off, but fortunately, he managed to stabilize himself by stepping on a protruding rock nearby.

Ning Buwei looked down, feeling even more dizzy. After several leaps, he finally found a secluded and quiet place to sleep. He squinted with satisfaction, set up seven or eight barriers, then tilted his head to sleep.

He didn’t believe anyone could disturb him now.

Half an incense stick’s time later, Ning Buwei’s divine consciousness was forcefully awakened in his sea of consciousness.

Ning Buwei’s knife moved before his eyes opened, stabbing toward the divine consciousness bold enough to invade his sea of consciousness, coldly saying, “Which bastard tired of living dares to invade this grandfather’s sea of consciousness?”

“Chengfeng.” Chu Jun caught the knife, looking at the nearly red divine consciousness before him, speaking helplessly, “Where are you now?”

Ning Buwei drunkenly glanced at him, hugged his knife back, snorted coldly, turned a corner behind the broken wall and fell silent.

Chu Jun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, following him to the wall.

Ning Buwei sat cross-legged on the ground, hugging his knife tightly, silently turned in another direction with his back to him.

Chu Jun had to walk in front of him and squat down, holding his shoulders and speaking gently, “Let’s form a temporary spiritual contract, so I can find you, alright?”

Ning Buwei’s mind was nothing but mush, with chaotic memories drowning him like a tide. He squinted at Chu Jun for a while before slowly speaking, “You’re not angry anymore?”

Chu Jun felt both helpless and amused, “What would I be angry about?”

Ning Buwei uncomfortably shifted his gaze, his voice somewhat muffled, “You waited for me at Xiaoqiu Mountain for a year, and I… didn’t come find you.”

Chu Jun was stunned briefly, then laughed, sitting down across from him like he had, “I’m not angry.”

Ning Buwei hung his head, frowning, “I didn’t mean to not find you.”

“I know.” Chu Jun reached out and patted his head.

Ning Buwei swatted his hand away fiercely, “No touching.”

Chu Jun lowered his hand, smiling, “Alright, no touching.”

Ning Buwei imperiously grabbed his hand, checked it wasn’t red from his swat, sighed in relief, then disgustedly threw it aside.

Chu Jun helplessly handed him the drawn spiritual contract, “Stay where you are, I’ll come find you.”

Ning Buwei looked at the contract with disdain, “Tch.”

Seeing his divine consciousness almost completely flushed, Chu Jun worried and suggested, “Should I help you expel the wine’s effect with spiritual power first?”

Ning Buwei, feeling dizzy and uncomfortable, frowned at him for a while before nodding.

However, moments later, not only had Ning Buwei’s drunkenness not subsided, but the wine’s effect grew stronger. Chu Jun touched his forehead – it was burning hot.

Seeing him about to steam, Chu Jun had no choice but to hurriedly leave his sea of consciousness, planning to find him in person first.

Ning Buwei squinted at the spiritual contract in his hand, bit his finger, and added a few flourishing strokes to it. After carefully examining it for a while, he satisfiedly tucked it into his clothes.

As his divine consciousness returned, Ning Buwei irritably tugged at his collar and opened his eyes. Now he wasn’t just not sleepy, he even wanted to find someone for a good fight.

Just then, a small mushroom growing in the corner suddenly moved. Ning Buwei casually leaned against the stone wall, but kept his peripheral vision fixed on that mushroom.

Legend said that in ancient times, there was a spiritual item called the treasure-seeking mushroom, similar to today’s treasure-seeking rats, helping cultivators find treasures. The difference was that treasure-seeking mushrooms usually found extraordinary treasures, often guarded by ancient divine beasts. However, these mushrooms had no intelligence and were extremely timid – even slight frights could kill them, which led to their extinction in the seventeen states.

Ning Buwei’s whole body was burning up, but he still barely remembered he was in the Floating Sky Realm – a place abundant with ancient treasures.

He stealthily followed the oblivious treasure-seeking mushroom from the cliff to a deep gorge. Looking down, it was full of rolling lava.

Already feeling hot, Ning Buwei’s head became even more muddled. He carried his Suzaku Knife and followed the seemingly not-so-smart treasure-seeking mushroom down.

Sure enough, the rolling lava was just a realistic illusion. Below it was a vast grassland full of bird songs and fragrant flowers. In the center stood a nearly transparent ice hairpin, surrounded by countless tempting spiritual items. The treasure-seeking mushroom dug a hole at a moderate distance, planted itself, and greedily absorbed the spiritual energy emitted by the stone.

Ning Buwei roughly scanned the nearly man-high ice hairpin, his mind filled only with the word ‘beautiful’.

This clear, lustrous, and ice-cold temperament strongly resembled a certain equally “beautiful” person.

Just as he was about to dig out the hairpin with his knife, a sharp claw slammed into the ground beside his face with a “bang”, scattering all the surrounding spiritual items that had been competing to absorb spiritual power.

Ning Buwei leaped back several zhang, and saw a massive snow wolf standing before the ice hairpin, letting out sky-shaking roars at him.

Compared to the snow wolf, the ice hairpin was only the size of one of its fingers.

Ning Buwei’s eyes brightened.

This snow-white fluffy wolf fur, if made into a brush for drawing talismans – his mind couldn’t help but picture Chu Jun’s hand holding such a wolf-hair brush that would perfectly suit his taste. He licked his teeth hard.